If I Dreamed a Desert . . .

 If I Dreamed a Desert Barrette Brooch

Glamp Fire Girl Necklace

Rustic Rose Earrings

Top: Marshalls

Skirt: H&M

Shoes: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Red/orange striped bangle: Target

Mint bangle: Decree, JCPenney

Rainbow striped bangle: ZAD, Zulily

Red bangle: B Fabulous

Pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily

Orange Bangles: B Fabulous

 . . . then it would look like this:  

Bold, bright, and sunny.  And with a Coca Cola waterfall cascading just out of range.  (No, your eyes aren't deceiving you; there's no waterfall here.  Just think of it as a mirage).  As you know, I'm fascinated by deserts.  Well, by the way they look, anyway.  Not by the way they are or feel or weigh on your skin and soul (see above for my need for ready liquids.)  I think it all began with my parents' desert-themed bedroom.  This was in the early '80s, so we're talking dark and a little foreboding, not at all like the airy pastels of today's succulent-studded decor.  I had a sort of love-hate relationship with the bedspread and matching curtains (not the brown corduroy boyfriend pillow; I straight up hated that).  Even now I can see those brownish-green saguaros standing so stalwartly -- and, yes, a little menacingly -- against the backdrop of blistering sunset.

Thinking about my childhood makes me think about bedtimes and how I never had one.  My mom used to joke that "round here we stay up very, very, very, very late."  You know, like in the Counting Crows song (yes, we've now fast-forwarded to the '90s).  Which is funny because Adam Duritz was certainly singing about something more chilling than snubbing sleep to watch more Nick at Nite.  What's more, that song mentions the ocean, so there isn't a desert in sight.  Still, it has a desert kind of feel.

When I was looking for a song to sell this post, maybe I should've gone for "A Horse With No Name."  It too is a little creepy.  But at least it has a desert.  And a horse.

Anyway, I wanted this barrette brooch (technically, it's a barrette because it's a clip, but even I know it's probably way too much of a wide load to wear in one's hair) to be as memorable as that bedspread.  Although on the flip side of "love," instead of "hate," I'd rather have "makes you laugh so hard that limeade comes out of your nose."  The limeade thing happened to me yesterday, so it's fresh in my mind (and nostrils).  I teamed it (the barrette brooch, not the limeade) with more timid accessories to really let it shine.  Kind of like how you serve spicy meatballs with unseasoned rice and Brussels sprouts.  Not that I eat Brussels sprouts.  Or spicy meatballs.  Rice is okay; I like to think of it as the Coca Cola of starches. 

In case you're wondering, pasta is the root beer.