The Christmas Before Last Christmas . . .

. . . I took a selfie with the Abominable Snowman at Kohl's.  This year I took one with this $600 sloth.  Other shoppers were making the most of the photo op, too.  One girl said, "If I had this sloth, I would never need a boyfriend again!"  Maybe the good people at Kohl's made this sign with her in mind -- to protect the sloth's safety, not hers. 

Anyway, it's hard to believe that this gentle giant started life looking like the little critter below.  Or that he costs six Benjamins. 

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's
Necklace: The Tote Trove

In other Black Friday news, I finally went to see Last Christmas.  I'd wanted to since it came out in the beginning of November (because who can resist a holiday rom com?) but abstained until after Turkey Day became a leftover (respect to the harvest).  In it, Emilia Clarke plays Katarina "Kate," a year-round Christmas shop elf haunted by some dark, albeit very un-Daenerys-like, demons.  She's a struggling singer and is borderline homeless, and she doesn't get along with her mom (Emma Thompson).  She also drinks too much despite a recent health scare, and her self-destructive ways are alienating her from her friends.  Thankfully, a handsome stranger (Henry Golding) turns up on a bicycle-as-white-steed to help.  Fun fact: Last Christmas and Golding's last movie, A Simple Favor, were directed by Paul Feig (indeed, both reflect his dark whimsy like black sweaters embroidered with silver).  Also, Golding's mom in Crazy Rich Asians (Michelle Yeoh), shows up as Kate's no-nonsense boss, Santa (or at least as no-nonsense as one can be while assuming that name and pushing holiday gibbon knickknacks).  All of which I so enjoyed, because who doesn't love a pop culture connection?  Here's another (the best ones come in threes).  Last Christmas is a love letter to George Michael (Emma Thompson's words, not mine), who passed away on Christmas in 2016.  His songs are beautifully woven into the scenes, offering hope as Kate tries to figure it all out.  (Even at rock bottom, she's witty and charming, and her zingers let us know she'll survive.)  Michael's eponymous "Last Christmas" holds the secret to the story and offers us a timeless message.  So move over Zoolander and Keanu.  In comparison, your tributes are limericks.

From the backdrops of lights and color and Christmas magic to the cast names scrawled in pink and blue '80s neon signaling, hey kids, this is gonna be fun, Last Christmas is a delight.  It's got miracles, second chances, reunited families, and yes, a little romance.  It's deep but light, sending you off with the kind of good old-fashioned, feel-good glow that makes you want to help someone.  Or, at the very least, help yourself to hot chocolate.

Or to some beads to make a festive necklace.  (I like to think that I redeemed myself by buying some Barbies for the donation box, too.  You didn't expect a chemistry set from someone who blogs about chick flicks, did you?)

 

Sweater: Poof, Marshalls
Skirt: Vanilla Star, Macy's
Shoes: Worthington, J. C. Penney's
Purse: Macy's
Yellow bangle: B Fabulous
Orange bangle: Mixit J. C. Penney's
Barrette: The Tote Trove

Merry Kitschmas Charm Necklace

I made this one from miniature Christmas tree ornaments.  Which wasn't a stretch because whenever the holiday decorations come out, my first thought is always that it'd made great jewelry.  Well, some of it.  I mean, I wouldn't want to weigh down anyone's neck with a heavy gumball machine ornament or an overzealous length of bright, crocheted garland (although the specificity of these examples reveals that I've tried).  But these candies and toy solider are nice, light clay, which makes them fair game for a necklace.  Santa, if you're real (and this goes for the legend and/or the shop owner), then this wreath of wreaths is for you.    

Finally, Zoolander, I didn't mean what I said earlier.  "Wake Me Up" was and is the ideal way to set the scene for that orange mocha frappuccino-fueled freak gasoline fight accident.  

I guess limericks can be love letters, too.