When the Spice Girls were a thing, I was TOTALLY in to them. Embarrasingly so. Zigga-Zig-Aah all the way. I always imagined myself to be Posh, since she was, well, Posh. Realistically? I was probably an unfortunate combo of Ginger obnoxiousness and Scary frizziness. Regardless, I have continued to regard Posh as a bit of a personal fashion hero. Bitch wore heels throughout all of her pregnancies AND managed to look fierce the whole time. Pregnant Me? I was a bloated, unfashionable whale who never wears khakis (EVER) and the ONE time I wore them out of 9-month pregnant desperation, my f-ing water broke and I looked like a fatty gravy-drinking loser who didn't make it to the porta-potty in time at a low grade wine festival when the blessed event commenced.
Where was I? Oh, right. THIS.
Presh little kitten prints? On a baggy tunic, dress abomination? No thanks. I'll take a Union Jack camel toe and leopardy 'fro any day of the week over this nonsense.
PS-Big smacky kisses and sparkley love to my friend K.O. and her obviously hip co-worker for bringing this disaster to my attention. xoxo
but my Grand-Mama called and would like her fancy, violet, doily/tablecloth back that she uses as the centerpiece for her "Parisian Bordello" room. Please have it cleaned and returned to her post haste.
SERIOUSLY, you guys? Seriously.
You are dating one of the most delicious men in the history of all men and you wear a sheer hooker tablecloth to a major event with him? One that allows everyone in the free world to see your black booty shorts underneath??!! You've been papped enough times by now that SOME designer other than Frederick's of Hollywood MUST be sending you something more stylish than what I could find in the "teen dorm room" curtains section of Bed, Bath, & Beyond.
While my quest for the perfect leopard hasn't been entirely suspended, it has definitely become less of a priority recently. Life got a little cray-zay, and the weather has left me feeling uninspired. Too warm for tights and boots, too cold for skirts and no stockings. I'm a mess.
And then. Oh, and then....
Last week, while feeling the need for a little retail therapy, I stopped by Nordy's to have a pair of jeans altered (Hudson Baby Boots-LOVE!) and saw a mirage. An amazing Calvin Klein, leopard print sheath dress with an adorable double wrap belt. Just waiting to jump on my body and finally fulfill all of my leopard needs....
WHY is this a mirage, you might ask?
Because it's gone. Like it never f-ing existed. Not only can I not find it online ANYWHERE, but it's no longer in the actual store. WTF happened? Am I so desperate for a leopard fix that I IMAGINED this perfect dress? Apparently. And apparently I am need of help and/or an animal print intervention. I don't want to be the Lindsey Lohan of fashion, friends. Please send help. Or just help me find that GD dress so I can finally move on to other obesssions. Because I have a long list of things worthy of my brand of sparkly adoration and even I'M getting weary of this one.
My dear friend, Smashy, just sent me a guest blogger post. And since I am both tipsy and exhausted from a dinner playdate for mini-SD and have absolutely no desire to be entertaining... Enjoy!
From my dear friend, Smashy:
Dear darlings,
The word "hate" was banned in my home as a child. Yes, a literal four-letter word, punished as strongly as popular culture's four-letter words. The soap in the mouth. The smack on the lips. The whole 9 yards and then some. The Janney felt very strongly that one should only use the word "hate" when one felt strongly.
She pontificated that to casually throw "hate" around like so much Carpet Magic deodorizer was lazy and irresponsible. One should be able to articulate dislike or displeasure with more sophistication than the four-letter word could portray. Par example, one doesn't hate broccoli. One dislikes the flavor or one prefers carrots to broccoli or one is displeased by the unpleasant after-effects of digesting said green vegetable. Broccoli certainly has done nothing so awful to justify one's hate. It hasn't started wars, denied refugees asylum or scammed innocent people out of their retirement savings.
In our house, "hate" carried the same weight as the F-word. Using the F-word as the "everything and the kitchen sink" adjective was unacceptable. Are you so unintelligent that you can think of no other word to describe how you are feeling? Are you so stunted in your lexiconical development that you can't think of ANY other word?
So, when I tell you that I Hate Legos, you know I ain't kiddin' around. I effing hate Legos.
Happy Birthday to my dear old friend, Ms. Kate. (and by "old" I mean we've been friends long enough to have shared a fair number of crazy stupid, totally fun moments together back in the day. But Mama K is NOT old)
Here's hoping you had a sparkly day with bottles done by the hubs, a fantastic glass of wine (or two!), and lots of love thrown your way! Thinking of you tonight, old friend.
Sparkle bebes! Walking home from a much needed ladies vino night and something even more sparkle-tastic is occurring. I'm no meteorologist, but I do declare that autumn is happening on my tipsy jaunt home! (jaunt=walk). Hello hot sweater dresses and leather boots! See you soon! Xoxo, SD
Bonjour, sparkle babies! I wish I was posting more than once a week (my original goal was at least 2-3 times a week), but alas, life is a little cray-cray right now. Which makes my current state a bit of a mystery. So I woke up this morning with a MAJOR league case of the "mehs". Do you know about the "mehs"? No? Let me elaborate...
So when you go to an allegedly fabulous restaurant and order something that should be dish delish and replace all other culinary favorites you've ever had but it's just okay.... Or you go to the movie or read the book that everyone raves about and you a left feeling a shade underwhelmed? THAT'S the "mehs". And even more than feeling "dark and stormy", the "mehs" really chap my ass. It's the emotional equivalent of taupe. Just "meh". At least with "dark and stormy" one can be a little broody and mysterious and listen to moody music. Me? I like Sara B., Dido, Adele, and Tori Amos on "dark and stormy" days. Esthero has a song called "Melancholy Melody" that is perfect for days like that. And of course Nina Simone. She's like the DEFINITION of "dark and stormy"
"Meh" is just "meh". There's no soundtrack for "meh". And I am the kind of girl that NEEDS a soundtrack in my daily life.
I think it's the shift in the seasons that is doing it. We just finished a super awesome, Indian Summer type week here and suddenly I woke up today and it was gone. And not turned to Fall in that crisp, sunny, the air smells like apples and pumpkins sort of way. (although, to be fair, autumn never REALLY smells the way Yankee Candle Co. tells you it should). I woke up and it was just "meh". Not cold enough for new sweaters and leather boots. Just damp enough for hair to be a hot mess and cold enough for me to be freezing my ass off in a dress (with sleeves!). I literally stood paralyzed in front of my closet for almost 15 minutes this morning, trying to decide my strategy. I HATE wasting time I don't have to begin with on trying to decide what to wear. This in-between weather is f-ing with my fashion mojo.
So where am I going with this never-ending story? (How great was THAT movie, back in the day?!) Where I'm going is that the only thing I usually have to look forward to on Tuesdays is that it's "new music day" on iTunes. Well-in the music world in general. For me, that means iTunes. Every Tuesday morning, before I go for my run at the ass-crack of dawn, I check iTunes to see what auditory deliciousness I can add to my playlist before I go. Sometimes it's a cornucopia of delight. Like the time I didn't even KNOW Prince was coming out with a new album and then one Tuesday-POOF! There is was. (don't judge. even Jehovah's witness Prince is better than a lot of shiz out there) Other days it's a trough full of awful. Like nothing but complaint rock, hillbilly country, or Nicki Minaj. AW-FUL.
So this morning, I open up iTunes and see a screen full of....MEH. All of the new releases, while not totally offensive to my musical tastes, are nothing I can get excited about. Britney B Sides.... for a minute yes, until I took a listen and realized they make me feel seizure-y just listening to the 30-second clips!! Not a healthy way to start my day. Seriously. Go listen to one of them. The Benny Benassi mix of "Womanizer" is particularly migraine inducing. And I LOVE me some Britney, y'all. (editors note: I don't actually SAY "ya'll". It's just a big up to my favorite country train wreck, Brit Brit).
Then on my way to work, something magical happens. Inspiration from my favorite XM station, 90's on 9. (my pre-adolescence through early adulthood summed up on one station?! Yes, please!!) Maybe it's because I was so desperate for something to snap me out of the taupish hell I was in that it affected me? Maybe it was the lack of caffeine in my system (it was before my first cup of coffee). Whatever. It came to me like a gift in my ear and MADE MY DAY. Or at least my morning. And when you are suffering from a nasty case of the "mehs", every little bit helps! Example:
"Rush, Rush" by Paula Abdul!? You GUYS. How could I have forgotten about this song? And more importantly, THIS VIDEO?? Who knew that this would snap me out of my "mehs"!!! I'd totally forgotten this little "Rebel Without a Cause" delight, starring a pre-hobo Keanu Reeves!!! She was so old-school glamour (to an 11 year old) and he was all angsty and mopey. I remember being a wee sparkle darling, waiting for this to come on MTV and thinking it was the SHIZ!!
So thank you, pre-crazy Paula Abdul, for making me feel sparkly again. Thank you.
Apparently, along with animal prints and menswear detailing, horses are a fall fashion trend. F-ing HORSES? You guys, come ON. Seriously, I have seen two celeb photos TODAY with semi-celebs decked out in items with horse graphics on them. Is this a THING? If so, I would like to stage some sort of peaceful protest. Maybe one that involves some bubbly drinks and disco? Honestly. This just isn't attractive unless you're like 8 years old and are obsessed with equestrian things and wear leather bracelets with your horses name on them. And even THEN, your friends are probably calling you the "weird horsey girl" behind your back.
Just STOP with this. Stop.
Just like "fetch", it's not going to happen. At least not for this girl!
Just STOP with this. Stop.