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.