Insects Appeal Served up Spot: Spring Has (Sort of) Strung

 Fabulous Felt Foliage Barrettes

Elegant Arachnid Necklace

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Tank: Worthington, JCPenney

Shoes: Delicious, Zulily

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

High Tea Helen Necklace

Top: Decree, JCPenney
Skirt: Modcloth
Shoes: BCBG, Macy's
Bag: Glamour Damaged, Etsy
Sunglasses: Party City
Barrette: The Tote Trove

Springtime means spiders.  (Sure, Halloween means spiders too, but this isn't about that, so stop back in October.)  Even if on this year the first day of spring found creepy crawlers crushed under a snowbank.  Luckily (Wait, luckily?  Am I really lamenting that spiders and their ilk will be fashionably late this season?  No.  What I'm really, ahem, ticked about is the delay in sunshine and warm weather, not the stalled appearance of eight-legged losers.  Because I find insects only one rung below ice on the season-related nuisance ladder.).  Luckily But (there we go) spring also means things that are ladylike.  Like flowers and bows and tea parties.  

So, I've got a rep from each camp here in Elegant Arachnid and High Tea Helen.  (There's Fabulous Felt Foliage, too -- but she's just an interloper.)  Despite my aforementioned disgust, there's something beautiful about the anatomical design of those we more often than not stomp with our Skechers.  That's why I was so taken with the silver- and gold-tone bee, spider, fly, and beetle in the brilliant bib of Elegant Arachnid.  (It's not braggy for me to say it's brilliant because I didn't carve these critters from metal my own self; that honor goes to whomever supplied them to Hobby Lobby.)  It was so detailed and gorgeous that I felt compelled to surround it with botanical blue-green beads, showcasing each insect as a magical mistress of her own enchanted forest.  You know, as opposed to bathroom floor roadkill.             

Then there's Helen.  I can see her now in her floral dress, white gloves, and beribboned hat, delicately sipping Earl Grey from bone china at her aunt's garden party.  Trying not to fall asleep as Mitzy McNeal yammers on yet again about her sciatica, she feels something whisper-soft on her arm.  She looks down, expecting to see an errant daisy petal or maybe even a runaway strand of her own auburn hair.  But instead there's a tiny spider, black and agile as it darts with precision across her pristine white skin.  She opens her mouth to squeal, but no sound comes out.  She looks at Mitzy, but her companion is oblivious to her plight, prattling on about how she can't even water her prize roses anymore, the pain is so agoniiiiizing.  Helen picks up her napkin, poised to cover the intrepid trespasser, and is about to go in for the kill when she pauses.  Because there's something appealing, regal even, about the arachnid.  Maybe she's read Charlotte's Web one time too many, but Helen is struck that this spider might be more than just another web-spinning sucker.  Maybe it has hopes and dreams, or little bitty baby spiders at home.  Gently, she sets the napkin back on the table.  Then she brushes the spider from her arm, watching as it falls past the wrought-iron tabletop down to the lush carpet of green grass below.  

Tea time, free time, no parlor for this fly.  

Boys Don't Make Passes at Girls Who Wear Glasses . . .

 Fabulous Felt Shannon Brooch

 Fabulous Felt Erin Brooch

Fabulous Felt Patty Brooch

Top (a dress!): Modcloth
Skirt (also a dress!): Modcloth
Shoes: Payless
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Boscov's
Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

. . . unless those glasses are filled with Guinness.  Which I realize sounds, ahem, shady because eyewear can't hold liquid let alone the Emerald Isle's signature stout.  But then again, all manner of magical madness is on tap on St. Patrick's Day.

At least that's what these leprechaun-loving ladies are thinking.  (And no, when I say leprechaun, I don't mean the horror movie starring a young Jennifer Aniston.)  Meet Shannon, Erin, and Patty, the newest members of the Tote Trove hat ladies guild.  Which, believe you me, ain't no book club.  They're off to paint the town green, starting at the local pub for a rousing round of Irish-themed trivia and pin-the-tail-on-the-Mother-Superior before indulging in a pint or two -- and then, just maybe, some pint-sized men.  Festive to a fault, they're decked out in holiday hats and sunglasses, reading glasses' less-than-well-behaved second cousin.  Because nothing says single and ready to mingle like a pair of I-can-see-you-but-you-can't-see-me cat's eye lenses.

Let's face it, St. Pat's isn't the most sentimental of holidays (unless you count caterwauling "Danny Boy" at last call).  There's no animated Peanuts special, no heart-warming kids' book called Seamus Shares a Shamrock or something.  It's all about shillelaghs and shenanigans, green beer and lime JELL-O shots, and trying to outrun the cops.

Or so I hear.  I'm usually curled up with a Shamrock Shake and a dog-eared Maeve Binchy by midnight.  

So much for mocking book clubs.

Baubles for the Birds: Beaks and Geeks

 Toucan Samantha Necklace

Chevron top: XOXO, Macy's

Striped tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: Bubblegum, Macy's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

 Fiery Feather Barrettes

 Bright Bird Necklaces

Top: a new day, Target
Skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's
Shoes: a.n.a., JCPenney
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's
Belt: Marshalls
Sunglasses: JCPenney

Back in the day, a geek was someone who bit the heads off of chickens.  Now it's just someone who is an outcast for less horrendous yet still socially unacceptable reasons, such as speaking Klingon or wearing high-water jeans or being on a reality show spawned by Ashton Kutcher.  In other words, a geek is still someone who hovers beyond the periphery of what's considered normal.

But more often than not, normal is for the birds.  And birds of a feather frock together -- which is why Mr. Owl, Mr. Swallow, Ms. Toucan, and the feathers that let them all fly have come to roost at The Tote Trove.  No doubt about it -- avians are amazing, paradoxically delicate and strong despite their feather-light bones.  It's one of the reasons I love them (well, that and their traffic-stopping plumage).  So here are some birds from my nest -- flamingos, to be exact, which are unlike any of the winged ones pictured here.  But then that's Pinky, the perennial plucky gatecrasher.

I got this wall art from Hobby Lobby, the home of endlessly whimsical home decor and craft supplies.  It's where I found Ms. Toucan, too.  But not, sadly, her two clearanced sisters, who were snapped up faster than a cheeseburger at a tofu buffet.  I guess it's like they say: the early bird gets the worm.  Also, the geeks will get their revenge.  No, wait, that's the nerds -- the non-chicken abusers among the uncool.

You're welcome, ASPCA.

Sun Ripe Stripes and Other Hype: Hey, How's it Hanging, New Earrings?

Red/white stripe tee: Hollister, Marshalls
Navy/yellow stripe tee: Merona, Target
Serape stripe cowl neck: Chaps, Kohl's

Flirty Fruit Earrings 

Fiona Fox Earrings

Ice Cream Dream Earrings 

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears . . . so that I may bedazzle them good and proper. (Because it doesn't get much more proper than Shakespeare, despite what you might've heard.)  That's right; I've made a fresh batch of bo danglers, one to represent each Tote Trove kitsch kingdom: Carnival Candy, Rustic Romance, and Twee Party.  Each pair is tiny but mighty -- meaning that it was a challenge for this bigger-is-better-and-gaudy-is-good proponent to keep them dainty.  But far be it from me to contribute to the over-stretched earlobe epidemic.  

Speaking of challenges, it took forever to steam the three striped tops in these pictures.  It was worth it, though, because they turned out nice and smooth instead of more wrinkled than when they started -- which is what usually happens when I'm wielding an iron.  This was especially exciting because -- bonus of bonuses -- it means that I get to wear them.  Tomorrow's supposed to be windy, so I'm looking at you, weird serape-inspired, wannabe-athletic cowl neck.  

There's something trendy yet timeless about a horizon of hip horizonals (also, about the group Vertical Horizon, but that's only because I've been listening to my Now That's What I Call 1990s Pop Alternative Edition CD).  To prove it, here's a list of (some of) the old-school fools who have rocked them:

Jailbirds

Mimes

Sailors

Where's Waldo (one week later, I'm still searching for him)

The Cat in the Hat

Piglet

The Hamburglar (not to be confused with the aforementioned jailbird)

Freddy Krueger (whom I despise but feel honor-bound to include because the husband swears that I sometimes wear his sweater)

Whether nautical or southwestern or a crazy mashup somewhere in between, stripes put the all-American (and all-Parisienne; see mime above) in jeans and jean skirts.  Neither of which are pictured here, but I can spend only so much time steaming.  And screaming.  

Which is my way of saying see you later.