Hope Notes: Bling Around the Collar

Blouses: Candie's from Kohl's except for the chambray one, which is Bongo from Sears.

What do you get when you combine clip-on earrings, colorful chains, and the spirit of speakeasy glam?  (And while I'm asking ridiculous questions, why do I, a teetotaler, make so many references to alcohol on this blog?)  The answer (to the first question; the answer to the second is best found at the bottom of a Dr. Pepper bottle) is collar clips!  Until now I've owned exactly one, a clear rhinestone affair from Hobby Lobby.  But I've long admired these adorable adornments and wanted to grow my collection.  Not quite brooches and not quite necklaces, they're the outliers of the jewelry world dangling, albeit dazzlingly, somewhere in the balance.  Despite my earlier tip of the newsboy cap to the 1920s, they make me think of the 1950s.  Something to do with sweater sets and Peter Pan collars, I guess.

Clip-on earrings, by the way, aren't easy to find.  The black teardrops were my mom's (although I added the crystals), and I stumbled upon the other three pairs on a Kohl's clearance rack.  I considered wearing the new ones as intended for like a minute before remembering that those little metal chompers are murder on the earlobes.  Far better, I decided, for them to grip the unfeeling flesh of a polyester button-down.

At first, I was a little leery that the clips and/or chains wouldn't lay right, but these turned out to be some of the easiest accessories I've ever made.  Also, working on them was kind of addicting.  (So much so that I went ahead and spangled a bargain brooch with Swarovski too.)  I can't help but daydream about finding an estate sale full of '80s earrings in rainbow rhinestones and plastic (bonus points for any with petrified ear wax.  Hey, if that kid in the Cottonelle commercial can say that she feels "as clean as a crystal castle," then I can, ahem, wax poetic about this.)  And who knows?  Maybe some Cyndi Lauper superfan's castoffs will embellish the blouses of today's Panic! at the Disco devotees.  Speaking of which, I feel as sparkly as a sequin serape (Google it, it's a thing.  Sort of.) whenever I hear "High Hopes."  Especially this part:

"Mama said
It's uphill for the oddities
The stranger crusaders
Ain't ever wannabes
The weird and the novelties
Don't ever change
We wanted everything, we wanted everything"

I know I'm preaching to the choir, but this song speaks to me because it says that it's harder to do what you want when you're different.   But that you can't let that stop you, that you have to keep going and hope all the harder.

Which is a lot more get-it-girl (or guy) than that Sandra Bullock-Harry Connick, Jr. romance Hope Floats.  But then, I don't think that this '90s summer snoozefest was meant to be anything more than a fling.  Still, it wasn't Sandra's fault.

As always, I think I'll blame Harry.   

Throwback Thursday on a Tuesday: Still Charmed by the 1980s

Eye on Kawaii Charm Necklace

Dress: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Bag: Fred Flare

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop

Eighties Explosion Charm Necklace

Dress: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Betsey Johnson, ROSS

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Summer Stunner Purse Charm

Dress: O'Neill, Macy's

Top: Bongo, Sears

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, DSW

Bag: Bueno, Marshalls

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop

Just about every post I write is, on some level, a love letter to the decade of Bubble Tape, fanny packs, and Weird Al Yankovic.  But this week's post pays homage to a very specific piece of 1980s nostalgia.  And that piece is a bunch of little pieces collectively and fondly known as Flash Charms.  If you grew up in the 1980s or raised kids in the 1980s, then chances are you're familiar with these colorful miniatures of everyday items such as cars, soda bottles, daisies, whistles, hair dryers, and even trash cans.  And if you've visited Michaels since December, then you know that they're back!  I did a double take when I saw them, my heart beating faster at the sight of all those cheerful charms from my childhood.  For the grammar school set, receiving them was a right of passage; once you had graduated from (the inexplicably more dangerous) pop beads to Flash Charms, you knew that you'd made it (and also, that you could be trusted with Play-Doh).  Because gosh darn it all, they were mesmerizing.  An ode to the era of excess, theirs was (and is) an aesthetic evocative of Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Rainbow Brite all rolled into one.  Thirty years later, they've eclipsed other eighties accessories, outranking scrunchies, slap bracelets, and bowlers to prove that they're much more than just a flash in the pan -- the fried egg in the red skillet charm in necklace two notwithstanding.  Indeed, they've earned their place in the retro revival fashion canon, right beside back-in-the-day darlings Strawberry Shortcake and My Little Pony.  If toys had high school reunions, then Cake and Pony would be the lipo'ed and Botoxed former prom queens to Flash's still fresh-faced and wide-eyed girl next door (admittedly, a girl next door perpetually dressed for Halloween, but a girl next door nonetheless).  Still, even Flash has evolved a little, namely in the form of the googly eyes that peer so playfully out of her food-themed personas (I'm looking at you, necklace one).  Which is to say that time has only improved her weird beauty, allowing her to age gracefully and goofily, no eye lift necessary.  

I, for one, am game to go to this shindig (or reunion or child's birthday party or whatever it is), name tag firmly slapped against my pink polyester leopard-print blouse.  Because grown up or not, I can't resist the craftopia that is the Flash Charms endcap display, especially as it shamelessly courts my collector's craving.  Taking home an absurdly pink potty (and a turquoise elephant and a yellow umbrella . . . ) puts a spring in my step more powerful than any new pair of pumps.  At $1.99 each, Flash Charms are blissfully affordable, making them the ideal pick-me-up on a gray day.  After all, what says "hang in there" more loudly than a passel of dangling, fluorescent plastic?  Almost five months in, my spoils speak for themselves.

Now, if only the good people of Galoob would bring back Sweet Secrets . . .

Enter to Win a Necklace in The Tote Trove What I Gave Away Giveaway!

We've all been there. You're sorting through your closet, trying to get rid of things to make room for fresh new purchases. At first you're very careful, examining each garment and asking yourself all the crucial questions. "When's the last time I wore this?" "Does it still fit?" "Will that mustard stain ever come out?" But on your thirtieth piece or so, you start to get tired, and before you know it, you're indiscriminately tossing jeans, sweaters, and tees into a pile without a thought. It's weeks or even months later when you realize you desperately want to wear that blouse or belt you so cavalierly donated to the Salvation army.

My own most regrettable fashion castoff was a shiny purple faux leather handbag with a huge bow from Delia's. It was the perfect shade of bright amethyst, positively luminous against black skirts and jeans. I bought it the day I got my first real job. Not that it was expensive -- $25 at the most -- but it marked the advent of frivolous spending after a lean six months of job hunting.

Many of my most cherished erstwhile possessions boasted some degree of sparkle. So, in an admittedly illogical and somewhat gimmicky leap, I thought, why not donate a sparkly Tote Trove necklace to one lucky reader? The bauble in question is this never-before-posted Cool Mint Necklace. (Which, upon closer inspection, isn't all that sparkly. But what it lacks in flash it makes up for with a clean look that will appeal to more people than not. What other prize could be better?)

I created the Cool Mint Necklace by stringing glass beads and a round metal pendant along gold-tone wire. The necklace measures approximately 11.5" and closes with a lobster claw clasp. It makes a great stocking stuffer -- but would also be at home in your own jewelry box!

Entering the giveaway is simple. Just become a follower of this blog and leave a comment (with your email address) letting me know which fashion item you miss most. It can be a pair of loafers you ditched last week, your favorite plaid kilt from junior high, or a Cyndi Lauper wig you wore clubbing in the 1980s. Whatever it is, The Tote Trove wants to know about it! (If you're already a follower of this blog, then that's cool too. Just let me know in your comment.) Don't forget to include your email address, as this is how I'll contact the winner. The giveaway closes December 8 at midnight. I'll choose a winner at random and email him or her the next day.

Thanks for playing and good luck!