Plaid? For Spring? Groundbreaking.

Coat: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Shoes: Jessica Simpson Collection, DSW

Sweater: Forever and Ever, Kohl's

Skirt: Dickie's, Dolls Kill

Bag: Kate Spade New York for Target

Top: So, Kohl's

Bag: Amazon

Orange Blossom and Bow Necklace

Pants: Almost Famous: Macy's

Sunglasses and flower clips: Wild Fable, Target

Shoes: Jessica Simpson Collection, Amazon

Skirt: Vanilla Star, Macy's; Shoes: Jessica Simpson Collection, Amazon

Bag: Olivia Miller, Amazon

Tee: GAP

Coat: BCX, Macy's

Sometimes I don’t know what gets into me.  I complain about winter, then when it’s finally spring, I pull out, not florals, but plaids.  I guess like Mary, I’m quite contrary. 

So all hail spring fashion in its many forms.  And gardens that grow the way you do.

Cape May Getaway

Sometimes you just have to get away.  At least that's what the husband and I decided when we realized that we hadn't been on a trip, just the two of us, in almost a decade.  We didn't want to go too far away, and we didn't want to go anywhere new in case we didn't like it.  So the husband said,  "What about Cape May?"  Victorian houses, quaint shops, and seafood?  I was there.  I booked us a room at Congress Hall and marked it on our calendar.  

Yet this past Wednesday, when it was time to set off for New Jersey's southernmost point, I began to have second thoughts.  It was cold and rainy, more like March than May.  Still, I swapped out my packed clothes for warmer ones and ordered myself to have fun.  Usually, when I order myself to do stuff, it's dishes and jumping jacks, so my chances for success seemed pretty good.  

When we rolled onto Washington Street, it was raining even harder.  "What do you want to do?" the husband asked.  That, at least, was a no-brainer.  "Cape May Fish Market," I said.  In no time, we were devouring our go-to, butter-drenched seafood rolls: shrimp, lobster, and crab for me, and scallops for him.  It's one of the best things I've ever eaten.  

That lunch set the tone for the next two days.  Being on vacation in the middle of the week, during the off-season, while it rained off and on, seemed like a decadent adventure.   

For once I wore (mostly) comfy clothes, focusing on my favorite color, yellow.  I got a kick out of how I matched Congress Hall.  

We took nature walks, which is the husband's thing, but once upon a time, it was my thing too.  I make jokes about being indoorsy, but even now there's something exciting and fairy-tale-esque about discovering a path in the forest.  And we wouldn't have been able to enjoy it if it were warmer, what with UV rays and mosquitos.  

We climbed the lighthouse.  If I look grim, then it's probably because I got a little weirded out on the deck.  It was very windy, and I was grateful to be back on solid ground.  

We even found not one but two places to spread our photography wings:

And finally, we shopped and ate more seafood!  

My favorite shop was the West End Garage, a trove of vintage and handmade treasures.  I couldn't believe how cool it was, or that in all the times I'd been to Cape May, I'd never been there.  Stall after stall of unusual décor, furniture, clothes, jewelry, and anything else you could imagine wound before us, not unlike those forest paths.  Here's a stall featuring vintage toys.  

I almost went for the set of lemon and orange bobbleheads but instead got a gorgeous brooch made of ribbons and charms (more on that later).  The husband chose something from the same artisan, a bowtie made of red and tan feathers.

So all in all, we had a wonderful time, full of fun and relaxation.  Cape May, we give you two arms up! 

         

Dying of Dysentery and Laughter: Finally Found My Rodeo Clown

Exactly one week ago (because I'm nothing if not consistent when it comes to being untimely), the husband and I went to the farm stand and the secondhand store, in that order.  But I had to post the pic of the clown first!  Because circus folk always get top billing.  Also (as many of you know), I'm drawn to clowns.  This one is from the 1970s and cost $795!  So yeah, I was good with just the picture.  

This was also the first day I wore my new Wrangler tee, which I ordered from (where else?) Kohl's for just $5.  I was geekily excited about it.  It made me think of the Old West, which made me think about a book about The Oregon Trail I read years ago.  (I may also have recently seen something Trail-related in my Instagram feed.)  If you were around in the '80s and '90s, then you know all about this popular -- and morbid! -- 8-bit computer game.  If not, then here's the premise: In the mid-1800s, your family sets out from Independence, Missouri in hopes of making it to Oregon.  I say "hopes" because more often than not, each person is killed off by cholera, typhoid, or some other deadly disease before glimpsing the Emerald City that is the Willamette Valley.  My family played The Oregon Trail a lot, and we were always so sad when one of us died and had our name typed across a tombstone.  It made me super grateful that I was born when I was and not fording some river only to then tumble in and die of dysentery.  

Speaking of which, the book (because yep, that's what we were talking about!) is called And Then You Die of Dysentery: Lessons in Adulting from The Oregon Trail, by Lauren Reeves.  I use the word "book" loosely, because this is a "gift book" as opposed to a tome on the history of the game.  I say this only so you don't think I'm trying to pass myself off as the kind of person who reads super serious books and wants you to know it.  Not because it's not brilliant.  Because it is.  Hats (bonnets?) off to you, Lauren Reeves. 

On that note, Reeves has a lot to snarkily say about the not-so-old-timey, tough love lessons imparted by the Trail.  But my favorite part comes from the intro:

"I must've logged ten thousand hours on this thing, making me one of the world's leading Oregon Trail experts.  I didn't just play the Oregon Trail, no . . . I studied it.  And now I want to share some of the important lessons I learned and applied to my everyday life.  Like how watching the pioneers migrate from Missouri to Oregon for a better life motivated me to move from Alaska to New York City.   . . . Hell, it even taught me that dying builds character, especially when you do it over and over and in so many different ways.  And I bet it taught you something, too.

If this book teaches you just one thing, it's that the Oregon Trail didn't just show you how to die.  It also taught you how to live.  And I hope that inspires you to upgrade your life from a lowly Greenhorn to an Adventurer.  Swipe this page left to continue along the trail." 

Sigh.  I'm a sucker for sentimentality, especially when it masquerades as satire.  Which makes me eager to crush my own outdoorsy challenge:

Keep these flowers alive.

Spring Fling: No Small Feat

Skirt: Amazon; Bag: Francesca's 

Hearts and Cherries Necklace

Top: So, Kohl's

Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Skirt: Forever 21

Top: New York & Company

Shoes: Jessica Simpson Collection, DSW

Candy Gram Slam Necklace

Top: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Zulily; Socks: Amazon

Jacket: Candie's, Kohl's

Bag: Dolls Kill

Spring is the best.  There are few things more uplifting than seeing the first daffodil after the snow or the first day you realize that you can wear short sleeves and sandals.  They're magical, those firsts, because they mean that the world's waking up.  But the thing about that is that sometimes waking up's hard to do.

Every spring, I drag my feet about giving myself a pedicure.  I put it off as long as I can, covering my unsightly toes in flats or cowboy boots on those rare days when I venture out to run errands.  Maybe you're thinking, come on, your feet can't be that bad.  But they are.  I've been wearing heels for more than twenty-five years, and all that abuse takes a toll.  That said, the thing that puts a stop to my procrastination is my annual dermatologist visit.  If I don't want to look at my untamed tootsies, then I certainly don't want my doc looking at them, because really, isn't her job hard enough?  So soon it'll be pumice and polish time, my cuticles camouflaged by a thick coat of crimson, a.k.a. Cherries in the Snow.  And once I'm done, I'll think not too bad, and wonder what all the fuss was about.

So thanks, Revlon, for taking the bummer -- if not the bunions -- out of summer.