Limited Edition Magician

Dress: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Shoes: Naughty Monkey, Zulily; Bag: T-Shirt & Jeans, Zulily 

Okay, so maybe I can't pull a rabbit out of a hat or guess that your card was the king of clubs as you drink your slot machine win in the form of your umpteenth martini.  But I can turn an old necklace into something at least half as interesting as a limitless row of rainbow scarves.  I recently went through an old box of costume jewelry that my sister gave me.  And one of the things in it was this super long, super '90s necklace of our mom's from The Limited.  Even back then, I thought the name of that store was pretentious.  Limited what, exactly?  Overpriced, pleat-front khakis?  Anyway, I remember this necklace very clearly -- as clearly, some may say, as the acrylic emeralds dangling so artistically from its industrial chain.  I'd always thought it was super glam, but looking at it all these years later turned out to be anticlimactic.  For instance, where was the color?  Had decades of outfit curating and crafting desensitized me to the wonders of a vintage, albeit earth-tone bauble from an iconic-yet-now-defunct chain store?  Had I finally become -- gasp -- too pretentious for The Limited? 

Maybe.  In that ironic, hipster way of thinking that my own craft supply stash was superior to a business that once turned a profit.  Nevertheless, it was to that very supply stash I turned.  And what I found was this neon pink satin-by-which-of-course-I-mean-polyester ribbon.  It was just the thing to set off the neutral bronze, smoke, and champagne of those honkin' faux emeralds.  Because ribbons, it seems, are the way to rev any kind of dying engine.  

Maybe someday my niece will sort through a box of my old stuff, fish out a necklace, and find it wanting.  Maybe she'll think it's too colorful and proceed to hack away miles of candy-colored ribbon.  The point is that she'll be jazzed to make it her own.  As well as be mortified that she's related to someone who says things like "jazzed."  And that's great because -- brace yourself for an inspirational poster moment -- the real magic of any style/art/scavenging enterprise is in the creating. 

Which is lucky because it beats sawing a lady in half.