Rudd Stud: Rhinestone in the Rough

Cardigan: Hearts & Roses London, Zulily; Top: Simply Vera, Kohl's; Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's; Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes; Red bangle: B Fabulous

Beading Rainbow Necklace

Sweater: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Boots: Apt. 9, Kohl's; Bag: Tatty Devine, Modcloth; Headband: Macy's; Coral bangle: Silver Linings, Ocean City; Black and white bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney

Un-Ugly Duckling Necklace

Paul Rudd is the kind of hot, hip, and self-deprecating-slightly-dorky leading man that makes women realize that men don't have to be testosterone-spewing alpha males to be sexy.  Just like sparkly stones don't have to be diamonds to be bedazzling (Rhinestone-encrusted jean jacket?  Yes, please!  Aunt Mitzi's tennis bracelet full of blood diamonds and also, possibly, the blood of Uncle Marve?  No thanks!).  So I was especially stoked to hear that Rudd is People's 2021 Sexiest Man Alive.  I'm so glad that this once-upon-a-time geeky dreamboat is finally getting his due.  Not that joining the Marvel universe as the world's most intrepid insect was too shabby either.  

Of course, true fans know that Rudd has had it going on since Clueless.  Awhile back, I read an article saying that Rudd, who played Alicia Silverstone's stepbrother-turned-love-interest in the iconic '90s flick, was "a wry forty-year-old" even then (his real age in the movie?  A callow twenty-nine.). 

Rudd's turn in Clueless is reason enough for me to pull out the plaid (yes, again!).  I'm particularly taken with these oh-so-'90s skirts.  All they need are a couple of big safety pins.  

Skirt: Almost Famous, Kohl's

Skirt: Almost Famous, Kohl's

What's more, their side-by-side contrasting plaid makes for an aesthetic that's classic-meets-edgy.  Kind of like the gentlemanly yet slightly snarky Rudd himself.  Who, by the way, in response to becoming officially "sexy," quipped that he'll now "have to spend more time on yachts."  

Oh, Paul.  That dry -- excuse me, wry -- sense of humor is why you'll always be the object of our (and Jennifer Aniston's) affections. 

Give 'em the Slip Skirt

From left to right: Vylette, Kohl's; Vylette, Kohl's; Candies, Kohl's

Remember the '90s, when slip skirts and dresses came into style, and people were worried about girls going out in public in their underwear?

Yeah, me neither.

Well, these not-so-slinky styles are back.  To, you know, not cause a stir.  Sometimes, seeing old stuff resurface makes me feel -- well, old.  Like, if I last wore something in high school, then how old does that make me now?!  I say this a lot -- but that's because I feel it a lot, especially as I edge toward forty.  Mind you, it's not that I feel decrepit.  It's just weird that I've been around this long.  That said, getting older isn't all bad, especially because it means getting to be part of history.  And when it comes to fashion, everything old becomes new again, proving that old things are not only still relevant, but sometimes better than new ones.  Kind of like when you find an old jelly bean stuck under your couch cushions and discover that not only has it not lost its flavor, but that time has made it tastier.  So, I snagged a few.  Slip skirts, not jelly beans.  (I don't know about you, but I have no desire to end this trend rebirth train with a trip to the gastroenterologist.)  The skirts that I scored are satin (okay, a satiny polyester), that fabric of fabrics for grunge era wannabe lingerie.  The dress has a sheen, too, although it's more matte.  It was fun shopping (online) for them, like I was in Wet Seal burning up my Fashion Bug paycheck, only not in Wet Seal and with more money to spend.   

Speaking of old vs. new, I had a rager of a time pairing my new old threads with the ones already in my closet.  So, what delightfully mad mix debuts in outfit number one?  Why, it's my new tie dye slip skirt with my beloved old Polaroid tee!  You may remember me wearing it here and here.  What can I say?  This tee was made for pictures.

 Striped bangle: Mixit, J. C. Penney's; Other bangles: B Fabulous; Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Outfit number two is all about this leopard slip dress.  The husband said I look like I'm (angrily) waiting for my prom date to get out of prison.  I disagree, though, because 1) this dress is nowhere near prom level formal and 2) this leopard is more Barbie than Bratz.  Still, it makes a statement.  And that statement is, "Don't mess with me, or I'll hit you will my "kiss my patch" purse."

Bag: Olivia Miller, J.C. Penney's; Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's; Maroon bangle: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's; Pink bracelet: Amrita Singh, Zulily; Other bangles: B Fabulous

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon; Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily 

Finally, outfit number three brings a cold front with an Icee tee.  It was a gift from the husband, and I've had it forever.  When I put it on, I was surprised by how long it was, then I remembered that that was the style circa 2010.  One hair tie later and it cropped up and got with the program, all the better to flatter the red slip skirt.  Rock on, Ronald McDonald color palette!

Bangle: Gifted; Black and white bracelet: Mixit, J. C. Penney's; Choker: Kohl's

And that about does it for this '90s throwback.  It's been real.  Thanks, slip skirts/dresses.  Also, Courtney Love and Cher (of Clueless, not Sonny and Cher) and every other '90s icon who wore you so well. 

Next up, crocheted beanies with matching hacky sacks.  Just kidding.  

Or am I?

Find me on the quad to find out.

Au Revoir to X: Autumn on Target

 Jazzy Jaune Necklace

Jacket: Wild Fable, Target

Top: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Shoes: Delicious, Zulily

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Sunglasses: Wild Fable, Target

Eclectic Emoji Charm Necklace

Top: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's
Belt: Wild Fable

Yellow necklace: Kohl's

I used to think of fall as a time of darkness and death (I'm looking at you, Halloween), but now I see it as a chance for rebirth and beginnings, an opportunity to enjoy something old that's now new again.  Which is very fitting, because this fall, there's a renaissance of '90s fashion.  Remember that irresistible mash-up of grunge and glam?  Well, it's back: corduroy, mock turtlenecks, happy faces, crop tops, faux fur, checkerboard prints, rainbow stripes, plaid, and much more.  Then again, saying that plaid is big for fall is like saying that flowers are big for spring or that ugly sweaters are big for Christmas.  But this isn't any old lumberjack or prep school tartan.  It's Clueless plaid in all of its yellow pleated glory, reigning as the queen bee crown jewel in the tiara of Target's Wild Fable label.  (Hey, that rhymes.)  Surely you'e seen that Target commercial with the Cher, Dionne, and Tai look-a-likes kitted out in revamped versions of the movie's (and decade's) top trends.  Aesop would be rolling over in his grave if he knew that Wild Fable is the name Target gave to the brand replacing its longtime juniors headliner, Xhilaration.  Then again, maybe he's a fan of teen flicks and is doing an, ahem, wild jig.  

Now, at first I wasn't happy about this coup.  I have many an Xhilaration piece in my wardrobe and hated the idea of the beloved brand being edged out by some new kid on the block.  Much like when the Backstreet Boys edged out the actual New Kids on the Block.  Then I remembered that I like the Boys better than the Kids.  I mean, "Everybody" vs. "Hangin' Tough?"  No contest.  And that's when I took a good look at the racks and realized I love Wild Fable.  Its edgy elegance transported me back to the days of Seventeen and Saturday mall crawls in a way that Xhilaration's boho blouses never could.  I was captivated by the studded belts, colorful Lucite-like earrings, and novelty wristlets (although, oddly, not a chain wallet in sight), that made up these punk princess spoils.  But it was the display centerpiece that really transfixed me.  For, arranged on a table like so many treats were -- are you ready for this? -- Caboodles!   

Every '90s girl had one of these confection-colored cosmetics organizers.  I'll never forget when I got my own sky blue case one Christmas.  I was so excited!  It matched my bedroom perfectly, and I couldn't wait to fill it with treasures.  So, you can imagine my indignation when my (male) cousin referred to it as a tackle box.  Stash mackerel-gut slimed lures and rubber worms where my bubblegum Bonnie Bell lip balm should be?  As if!

So, I picked up this lilac Caboodle as well as the other nostalgic pieces in this post.  My favorite is the checkerboard jacket.  They didn't have it in my size at the store, so I went online and ordered it.  It's like Speed Racer and ska all in one.  Cue the trumpets, Mighty Mighty Bosstones!

Still, as thrilling as the return of all this throwback stuff is, some of it should stay in the moldy basements of our memories of retainers and school dance sobfests.  I refer to you, baby backpacks, flannel, and scrunchies.  (The aforementioned Clueless-inspired, yellow plaid separates are, sadly, flannel.  Otherwise, you know they'd be preening in pride of place here.)   I've made a solemn pact not to cave to the likes of these D-list reincarnations.  And that goes double for jumpers.  I tried one on, and it was hideous.  Which sounds about right, because whenever I hear the word "jumper" I think of a big, bulky sweater knitted by dear old Aunt Agnes with puce-colored, pill-prone acrylic instead of a dress worn over a turtleneck.  Thanks, Sophie Kinsella, Marian Keyes, and Maeve Binchy.  Soon I'll be expecting an elevator when someone says that they've called (a) Lyft.

So yeah, there's something to be said for fall fashion . . . and for fall.  For one thing, it marks the end of swamp ass, sunscreen, and mosquitoes.  But it's not the end of everything sunny.  I could go on about the magic of leaves changing from green to gold and the coziness of sweaters and the custardy coolness of Libby's pumpkin pie.  Yet the sign above the register at the breakfast place where the husband and I went this morning sums it up best:

"Everything will be alright in the end.  And if it's not alright, then it's not the end."

I thought that was beautiful.  (Then again, maybe I was still flying high from all the sugar in my super decadent strawberry cheesecake pancakes.)  It's a simple way of saying that no matter what your troubles or fears, the universe has a plan, and that that plan will take care of you.  Which, I realize, goes way beyond any wistfulness that the transition of seasons might bring.  But it's the little things that make a big difference.  And one of the biggest little things you can do is look for signs.

Especially the kind for 50% off on lunchbox purses.

Climbing the Walls With Jericho, a Bear, and a Beetle

Unicorn University Necklace

Tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Chinese Laundry, DSW

Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's

Belt: Kohl's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's 

Wild Wagon Necklace

Tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Nordstrom

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

Bear Flare Necklace

Tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Belt: Kohl's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

I'm kicking off this week's post with a look back at last week's episode of Bob's Burgers (just think of me as the John Oliver of cartoons).  It was about Tina, my favorite Belcher, and her obsession with her imaginary horse, Jericho.  Although not a unicorn (unlike the Unicorn University Necklace shown here, so named in the spirit of upwardly mobile and intellectual equines), Jericho wields his own special magic, his powers of the impossible far more ambitious than those filtered through any mere horn.  Because who needs that useless appendage when you've got the pipes of nice guy dreamboat Paul Rudd?  That's right, Ant Man himself voices Tina's beloved and completely unreal black stallion.  (Is it any wonder that she's besotted?)  In this far-fetched and quirky fairy tale of a Burgers installment, bookworm Tina channels Beauty and the Beast's Belle's bewitching blend of "strange but special" more strongly than ever.  You know, if Belle wore glasses and had the voice of a middle-aged man.  That said, Tina is so entrenched in her fantasy that she convinces dad Bob to enroll her in a local horse camp.  (Come to think of it, Bob is a little like Belle's father, Maurice.  Bob's a kindly if unsuccessful and somewhat ridiculed creator of weird burgers; Maurice is a kindly if unsuccessful and most definitely ridiculed creator of inventions.  Oh, Bob's Burgers writers, is there no end to your Beast parallels?).  The camp is a step down from the exclusive sleep-away version of Tina's dreams, but true to her sweet, grateful nature, she gallops off on the first day all smiles.  Yet as is so often the case with high expectations, the camp proves to be riddled with rules and realities that render it far less fanciful than her Jericho-headlined dreamworld.  To add insult to injury, she's assigned a steed so clumsy and smelly that she comes close to quitting.  Instead, she perseveres in true Tina fashion, entering the ring with, not Old Stinky, but the gentlemanly -- and very invisible -- Jericho.  Laughter - and a poignant lesson - ensue.        

Personally, I don't know what's with girls and horses.  I was never enamored with them, despite (or perhaps because of) having attended horse camp as a preteen.  My sister and I used to walk down the seemingly endless dirt road from the regular camp to the stables, dreaming of greener pastures lousy with horses that sounded, not like Paul Rudd (Clueless still being a figment of  Hollywood's imagination), but Luke Perry or Jonathan Taylor Thomas or whoever the big heartthrob was then.  Take it from me, there's nothing enchanting about manure in August.

Before I hit the dusty trail, here's a shot of a recently repainted Brigantine carwash.  Which doesn't, I realize, have anything to do with horses.  Unless you count that modern horse otherwise known as the car.  Its bright colors all but belt out Tote Trove, and the VW Beetle of the Wild Wagon Necklace fits right in with its punky palette.  

On that note, coming soon: surf shops for unicorns.   

Movie Moment: (Handbag Heaven and Some Thoughts on) Sex and the City 2

This weekend the bf surprised me with two handmade sets of hooks for my handbags. I'd been keeping them in two places: in a heap on the floor in a corner and scrunched into a small free-standing closet. But with the hooks in place I could free up the floor for some of my shoes and rearrange the purses in the closet. Now, if only I could get one of those revolving closets like they had in Clueless. Or even just a walk-in closet. The bf, by the way, says that I'm a nerd for reporting all of this. He's right, of course, but I'm kind of hoping it comes off as charm.

Speaking of fashiony movies, my mom and I saw Sex and the City 2 last Saturday. I'd read that it promised to be "a romp" compared to the first movie, which, quite frankly, I found hugely disappointing. But this was one case in which the sequel surpassed the original. The setting of Abu Dhabi inspired a wardrobe that was even more ornate and over-the-top than usual, which was great fun. But the best part was the movie's willingness to "go there" instead of neatly tying up every dicey romantic situation in pretty bows. So many TV shows and movies take the cut-and-dry happily-ever-after approach to marriage and relationships, which I find kind of insulting. But Sex and the City 2 recognizes that people continue to evolve beyond the "I do's". This is not to say that marriage takes a hit in the movie. On the contrary, it's the characters' willingness to deal with their issues that make their marriages more real and, therefore, stronger.

But enough with the heaviness. Who's your favorite Sex and the City character? Although I've always fought it, I'd have to go with Charlotte. Clearly the goody-two-shoes idealist of the group, she always seemed a little silly to me. To her, every little blip was a crisis, and everything always had to be perfect. She took everything seriously, but no one really took her seriously. Then it dawned on me that I'm a bit of a perfectionist goody-two-shoes who takes things too seriously, much as I hate to admit it. Hmmm. Funny how that works.