Showing posts with label Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Confection Connection: Oh, Sugar




Sweater: Merona, Target
Dress: Modcloth
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Bag: DSW
Belt: Candie's, Kohl's
Hat: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's




Top: Kohl's
Skirt: Decree, JCPenney
Shoes: Guess, DSW
Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Belt: Marshalls 



Go, Green! Necklace

Sweater: Merona, Target
Skirt: (a dress!) Modcloth
Shoes: Chinese Laundry, DSW
Bag: Xhilaration, Target
Belt: Candie's, Kohl's
Hat: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Kale craze or not, candy's still king.  In songs, ("Lollipop", "I Want Candy,"), games (Candy Land (back in vintage form at your local Target!), Candy Crush), movies (Candyman, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (each scary in its own way)), and fashion (Candie's, Hard Candy).  And that goes double for holidays.  No self-respecting calendar star gets street cred without sugar.  Valentine's Day, Easter, Halloween, and Christmas all owe at least some of their magic to candy's syrupy goodness; (no Godiva for you, St. Pat's, but then again you've always got Guinness).  

So, it's no stretch to say that this week's necklaces celebrate saccharine style.  I especially love the centerpiece oval pendants, which I found on Etsy's own MK Supplies.  Probably because they're lemony, orangey, and minty, like frosted white chocolate or fruity hard candy.

Let's make that hard candy.  White chocolate is icky.  

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Pipe Dreams for Posterity and a Word form Willy Wonka



 Diamond Drama Necklace

Top: Candie's, Kohl's
Camisole: So, Kohl's
Jeans: City Streets, JCPenney
Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's
Bag: Cloud Nine, Ocean City
Jacket: Xhilaration, Target
Belt: Wet Seal
Scarves: A.C. Moore



 All Sorts of Sweet Necklace

Cardigan: So, Kohl's
Camisole: Wet Seal
Skirt: Ellen Tracy, JCPenney
Shoes: Payless
Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's
Belt: Be Fabulous



 Bow Brigade Necklace

Tee: Target
Pants: Xhilaration, Target
Shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy
Bag: Nahui Ollin
Jacket: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney
Sunglasses: Cloud Nine, Ocean City 



 Day Glo Owls into Night Necklace

Top: Macy's
Jeans: City Streets, JCPenney
Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's
Bag: Worthington, JCPenney
Belt: Izod, Marshalls



Bargain bin Kohl's earrings I upcycled into necklaces (one below, one in my jewelry box).

Rhinestone Reflection Necklace

Top: Boscov's
Skirt: Decree, JCPenney
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Bag: Marshalls

Recent Powerball jackpots have got me wondering what I'd do if I struck it rich (you know, after the humdrum expenditures associated with bills, gifts, a house and car, and several hundred pairs of shoes).  You might think I'd open a (brick and mortar) accessory store.  But if there's anything I've learned after years of craft fairs and Etsy, then it's that most people are more interested in looking at my creations than in wearing them.  That having been said, I'd open a Tote Trove museum.  Kind of like the Museum of Bad Art, but not.  Speaking of which, the husband tried to surprise me with a stop there on the way home from our honeymoon, but when we stepped into one of the three greater Boston area galleries, we found just a sad, empty room.  At first we thought that the art was so bad that the whole operation had to be abandoned.  Then the kindly proprietor of the old-timey movie theater next door informed us that they were merely revamping and would someday reopen.  

But back to the topic at hand, namely my museum.  It would be manned by an army of mannequins (with a place of honor for Tammy, complete with a commemorative plaque!) decked out in my clothes and accessories.  (I wouldn't need the clothes anymore, having upgraded to a super exclusive, celebrity-worthy, all-designer wardrobe.)   Every museum-goer would receive one of those big, swirly lollipops with the price of admission (although eating in the museum would be strictly prohibited, a rule enforced by Oompa Loompa-looking security guards armed with walkie-talkies resembling Hershey bars).  There'd be a dress-up room and a crafting station and a fun house mirror (because come on, why not?), and a lobby wall-papered in Tote Trove tote reproductions.  Kind of like my craft fair tent used to be, but classier, which is to say, without the clothesline.  Like any self-respecting museum, it would have a gift shop situated tourist-trap style at the exit, offering a small selection of Tote Trove originals as well as greeting cards, notepads, journals, bookmarks, magnets, and other assorted trinkets emblazoned with a few treasured Trove designs.  I'd get a courteous but faintly aloof middle-aged woman to run the cash register and passive-aggressively pressure customers into joining the mailing list.  Sometimes I'd show up (incognito, of course), just to check on things, ominously surveying the displays while brandishing truffle oil-drizzled Cheetos (the no eating rule wouldn't apply to me).  But mostly I'd stay home, barricaded in my Candyland castle replica of a mansion, writing my memoirs, also eating truffle oil-drizzled Cheetos.

Needless to say, I'm joking about most of this.  Except for maybe the part about the Oompa Loompas.  They'd be enough to scare off anyone looking to rough up a new lottery winner.