Moving to the Country: Good-bye, Brigantine

Tourist Trap Charm Necklace

Top: Macy's

Shorts: ELLE, Kohl's

Flip flops: So, Kohl's

Bag: Betsy Johnson, Macy's,

Sunglasses: Michaels

Barrettes: The Tote Trove

It's finally happened.  The husband and I bought a house -- and it's on the mainland.  Which means good-bye, Brigantine.  So I thought I'd commemorate the occasion with a little Presidents of the United States-and-Elton John mashup.  And, of course, a new Betsey Johnson handbag.  'Cause there are peaches a-plenty in the country (even if home is now kinda sorta a suburb), and Brigantine is equal parts peaceful and tempestuous.  Or at least its weather is, just like Marilyn/Norma Jean.

I also decided to make myself a souvenir send-off necklace using -- what else? -- key chains from the corner beach shop.  It's funny.  At a time when I was supposed to be getting rid of stuff, I found myself shopping even more, racking up shoes, tees, and cold shoulder dresses as if I were moving to Mars instead of a few towns over.  But the act of acquiring made me feel more armed for the journey ahead.  I guess it's like Cat Stevens sings in "Wild World":

"But if you want to leave, take good care
Hope you have a lot of nice things to wear"

You said (sang) it, Cat.  New clothes have a way of making life's transitions somehow smoother.

At first, I wasn't too sentimental about leaving the island.  Not being able to walk to stores, restaurants, and, of course, the beach would take some getting used to.  But I was too wrapped up in packing and jumping through mortgage hoops to over-think it.  Besides, I was looking ahead, more than eager to vacate a shoe box-sized rental that smelled as mildewy as King Triton's halitosis (maybe that, not Prince Eric, was why Ariel lobbied so hard for legs).  The move had been a long time in coming, and the new casa was roomier, more private, and best of all -- ours.  Also, it was vintage (if you can say that about a building), and I'd always wanted to live in a charming old (albeit restored -- let's not get crazy, now) house.  You know.  Something with more character than cul-de-sac.

So, I was all set to pull up stakes, no looking back.  Then I went to Acme to pick up a few last-minute things and started crying in the cereal aisle.  It suddenly hit me that it'd be the last time I'd ever go there, at least as a resident.  And although I always said it was creepy and overpriced and that the chicken was one step away from salmonella, the realization made me sad.  Partly because it reminded me of when the husband and I were first starting out nine years ago and we'd run to the store for something easy to throw together instead of a week's worth of groceries for grown-up meals.  Partly because there's something bittersweet about something being over, even when you know it's time to move on.  Kind of like the last episode of "Friends" (which also, by the way, made me get weepy).  I could come back to the island any time to walk the beach or eat at The Crab Shack.  But, like watching reruns of the Central Perk gang, which I can do any time, it wouldn't be the same.

Then, this past Friday, on the first day of fall, the husband and I signed on the dotted line(s) and officially became homeowners.  Which was exciting and scary and wonderful and made me realize that we were exactly where we were supposed to be.  And that was before I even started filling my spare room-slash-closet.

So.  If you don't hear from me in a while, then it's because I'm buried in boxes or fighting with Comcast or embellishing an old-timey mirror.  But that only means that bigger, better adventures and all things Tote Trove are just a few weeks away.

Until then, here's the best of Brigantine in pictures.

Locks That Rock: Playing it Up Presidential

Fabulous Felt Lump Clump Barrette

Dress: Modcloth

Blouse: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Nahui Ollin

Sash: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

This President's Day, skip the wonky wigs (I'm looking at you, Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and other assorted Oval Office-dwelling dandies) and stuffed suits for an administration you can really admire: the Presidents of the United States.  This two-hit-wonder alt rock band of the 1990s brought us such delightful ditties as "Peaches" and "Lump", the latter of which is celebrated right here in fabulous felt.  Six colorful little "lumps" peer inquiringly out of kooky googly eyes on the lookout for adventure and mischief.  I paired the barrette with an outfit in a patriotically presidential (and somewhat-Superman-like) palette: red, white, and blue.  And also, a little yellow and funky fresh rainbow.

My heart still thumps for "Lump," and whenever I play it on CD, I hit repeat and say, "Play it again, (Uncle) Sam."

I guess that's my party policy.

Something New and Sparkly: American Orchard

Fabulous Felt Orchard Barrette

Dress: Cloud Nine, Ocean City

Tank: Mossimo, Target

Shoes: Frederick's of Hollywood

Bag: DSW

Necklaces: So, Kohl's

"Millions of peaches/peaches for free/millions of peaches/peaches for me."  So sang the Presidents of the United States of America some fifteen years ago.  Those loopy lyrics stuck with me, my internal soundtrack playing on cue as I crafted this super stylized Fabulous Felt Orchard Barrette.  (That red and yellow splotchy mass on the right is meant to be a nectarine, by the way, followed by the somewhat more recognizable plum and peach.)  That said, I'm not going to plumb the depths of this tune's possible deeper meanings, opting instead to take it at its face value as a celebration of produce.  As for the barrette, I'm as pleased as punch to add it to my bushel of baubles.  Stand by for more farm stand favorites.