Ladies First Curse: Getting Ahead but Flirting With Dead

Cami: Mudd, Kohl's; Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's; Boots: Simply Vera, Kohl's; Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's; Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Hairpins, Rite Aid

Midnight Magic Necklace

One of the reasons I love blogging is that it gives me a chance to play with outfits I like but would never wear (for yes, there are some, even for me).  Just like watching TV gives me a glimpse of exciting but dangerous things I'd never do.  Enter today's Goth club kid ensemble and NBC's Good Girls. 

If you've seen Good Girls (or even a commercial), then you know that the dark dramedy, which is in its fourth season, is about three ordinary women who turn to crime when faced with financial hardships.  Set in a suburb of Detroit, it straddles the no woman's land between the mean city streets and the cul-de-sac.  Ringleader Beth Boland (Christina Hendricks) is a domestic diva and mother of four married to her high school sweetheart (Matthew Lillard of Scream fame).  Yet when she finds out that her dear Dean's serial philandering and financial mismanagement have landed them face to face with foreclosure, she's forced to expand her repertoire from baking to burglary.  Beth convinces her sister Annie (Mae Whitman), a wisecracking supermarket cashier, and their lifelong friend Ruby (Retta), a happily married but struggling waitress, to join her in her crime spree crusade.  But no sooner do they commit their first felony than they learn that they've trespassed upon the turf of career criminal Rio (Manny Montana).  Like it or not, "gang friend," as Ruby calls him, soon becomes a fixture in their lives.  Yet as Beth plunges deeper into Detroit's underworld, she discovers that illicit entrepreneurship is the road to not only financial freedom but the kind of fulfillment that she can't get from the PTA.   

Good Girls isn't all back door deals and social commentary, though.  It's also funny.  Annie slings some first-class zingers, and the situations in which the "girls" find themselves are often so ludicrous that you can't help but laugh.  Even the background music is French noir cute reminiscent of A Simple Favor.  Finally, there are more than a few Cloud Nine references, which are an Easter egg of a reminder that the dearly departed Superstore is a fellow Midwestern star in the NBC universe.   

Layered and nuanced, Good Girls is masterfully crafted to make you think twice about everything.  Like this unabashedly badass outfit, it starts off as starkly black and white but eventually reveals shades of gray.  And it's the gray that urges you to question the difference between right and wrong, to wonder what you would do if you too were caught in a catastrophic cashflow catch-22.  Just as it's the gray that makes this sensational story not only entertaining but familiar, becoming the silver lining we seek. 

Still, whenever Rio pops out from the shadows, I can't help but think that baking -- which I usually loathe -- looks pretty good.

Pretty, Gritty, Wily, and Witty: A Damsel With Finesse

"You shouldn't wear such lovely outfits.  You make yourself a target."

"I don't change my style for anyone."  

So goes the exchange between Miss Meadows's neighbor and Miss Meadows in the Amazon original movie called -- what else? -- Miss Meadows.  The neighbor (Mary Kay Place) is concerned about Miss Meadows's (Katie Holmes) safety in their questionable neighborhood.  It's a pivotal scene, and it struck a chord with me, both in the context of the movie and in real life.  

Miss Meadows is an upbeat, beribboned substitute teacher who believes in good grammar and manners.  An unusual combination of sophisticated and childlike, she dresses like a doll and keeps an impeccable yard.  Instead of saying "good-bye" or "catch you later," she trills, "toot-a-loo."  She reads poetry while she walks down the street.  She takes her responsibility as an educator seriously, imparting to her students her passionate belief in treating others with kindness and respect.  Yet her love of fair play reaches much farther than her classroom door.  You see, Miss Meadows has a secret.  And that secret is that she's a vigilante.  (Vigilante, by the way, is one of my favorite words, both for the way it sounds and for what it means.  I like it so much that I used it in my last post to describe my lint trap.)  Intent on ridding the world of evil, Miss Meadows eliminates child molesters and murderers as if they're weeds in her garden.  The only person who knows about her alter ego is her mother, a prim woman (Jean Smart) who calmly advises her to rid her dresses of bloodstains with equal parts lemon juice and cold water.  Miss Meadows keeps to herself, so her secret seems safe.  That is, until she's stopped by the handsome town sheriff (James Badge Dale) while holding up traffic to rescue a frog.  The relationship that develops between them is offbeat, intense, and sweet, causing Miss Meadows's mask of mysteriousness to slowly melt.           

One of the reasons I like this movie is that it has a cute noir vibe not unlike the one in A Simple Favor.  It's playful yet subversive, like a bouncy castle in a cemetery.  Furthermore, it's thought-provoking, raising countless questions: Is Miss Meadows a vigilante because she wants everything to be clean?  Or, does she want everything to be clean to absolve herself from what she does when she's a vigilante?  Is she a hero?  Or is she a villain?  Is hers a case of two wrongs not making a right?  Or a case of breaking the rules to do the right thing?  Does Miss Meadows's secret threaten what she has with the sheriff?  Or, are her demons -- and his -- the thing that draws them together?  And last but certainly not least, can a thirtysomething woman pull off Mary Janes?  

To say that Miss Meadows is fresh is an understatement.  It celebrates femininity in all of its frills even as it challenges the stereotype that femininity equals weakness.  It's dark -- I watched it alone, in the wee hours of the night, and I won't deny that some parts gave me the willies -- but it has a vulnerability mixed in with its steel, much like the roses and thorns that coexist in Miss Meadows's garden.  Yet it's the steel that prevails.  As Miss Meadows says to that well-meaning but clueless neighbor, she's not willing to change her appearance -- or, more importantly, who she is -- for anyone (not even a pedophile who snarls, "No offense, Miss Meadows, but you do tend to over accessorize.").  And that's something that I, and I think many women, understand.

That said, here I am in my yard in my girly best despite the possible dangers. 

Until next time . . . toot-a-loo.

The Christmas Before Last Christmas . . .

. . . I took a selfie with the Abominable Snowman at Kohl's.  This year I took one with this $600 sloth.  Other shoppers were making the most of the photo op, too.  One girl said, "If I had this sloth, I would never need a boyfriend again!"  Maybe the good people at Kohl's made this sign with her in mind -- to protect the sloth's safety, not hers. 

Anyway, it's hard to believe that this gentle giant started life looking like the little critter below.  Or that he costs six Benjamins. 

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's
Necklace: The Tote Trove

In other Black Friday news, I finally went to see Last Christmas.  I'd wanted to since it came out in the beginning of November (because who can resist a holiday rom com?) but abstained until after Turkey Day became a leftover (respect to the harvest).  In it, Emilia Clarke plays Katarina "Kate," a year-round Christmas shop elf haunted by some dark, albeit very un-Daenerys-like, demons.  She's a struggling singer and is borderline homeless, and she doesn't get along with her mom (Emma Thompson).  She also drinks too much despite a recent health scare, and her self-destructive ways are alienating her from her friends.  Thankfully, a handsome stranger (Henry Golding) turns up on a bicycle-as-white-steed to help.  Fun fact: Last Christmas and Golding's last movie, A Simple Favor, were directed by Paul Feig (indeed, both reflect his dark whimsy like black sweaters embroidered with silver).  Also, Golding's mom in Crazy Rich Asians (Michelle Yeoh), shows up as Kate's no-nonsense boss, Santa (or at least as no-nonsense as one can be while assuming that name and pushing holiday gibbon knickknacks).  All of which I so enjoyed, because who doesn't love a pop culture connection?  Here's another (the best ones come in threes).  Last Christmas is a love letter to George Michael (Emma Thompson's words, not mine), who passed away on Christmas in 2016.  His songs are beautifully woven into the scenes, offering hope as Kate tries to figure it all out.  (Even at rock bottom, she's witty and charming, and her zingers let us know she'll survive.)  Michael's eponymous "Last Christmas" holds the secret to the story and offers us a timeless message.  So move over Zoolander and Keanu.  In comparison, your tributes are limericks.

From the backdrops of lights and color and Christmas magic to the cast names scrawled in pink and blue '80s neon signaling, hey kids, this is gonna be fun, Last Christmas is a delight.  It's got miracles, second chances, reunited families, and yes, a little romance.  It's deep but light, sending you off with the kind of good old-fashioned, feel-good glow that makes you want to help someone.  Or, at the very least, help yourself to hot chocolate.

Or to some beads to make a festive necklace.  (I like to think that I redeemed myself by buying some Barbies for the donation box, too.  You didn't expect a chemistry set from someone who blogs about chick flicks, did you?)

 

Sweater: Poof, Marshalls
Skirt: Vanilla Star, Macy's
Shoes: Worthington, J. C. Penney's
Purse: Macy's
Yellow bangle: B Fabulous
Orange bangle: Mixit J. C. Penney's
Barrette: The Tote Trove

Merry Kitschmas Charm Necklace

I made this one from miniature Christmas tree ornaments.  Which wasn't a stretch because whenever the holiday decorations come out, my first thought is always that it'd made great jewelry.  Well, some of it.  I mean, I wouldn't want to weigh down anyone's neck with a heavy gumball machine ornament or an overzealous length of bright, crocheted garland (although the specificity of these examples reveals that I've tried).  But these candies and toy solider are nice, light clay, which makes them fair game for a necklace.  Santa, if you're real (and this goes for the legend and/or the shop owner), then this wreath of wreaths is for you.    

Finally, Zoolander, I didn't mean what I said earlier.  "Wake Me Up" was and is the ideal way to set the scene for that orange mocha frappuccino-fueled freak gasoline fight accident.  

I guess limericks can be love letters, too.

Black and White and Dead All Over: The Flavor of Fare Far from Simple

 Woven Wisdom Charm Necklace

Top: POPSUGAR, Kohl's

Skirt: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Delicious, Zulily

Bag: J. C. Penney's

Belt: B Fabulous

Barrettes: The Tote Trove

Hi, bloggers!

I called upon this corny old joke to talk an itty bitty bit about newspapers and a lot about a book-turned-movie even though I saw the movie first.  Of all the old-timey, misogynistic sayings about women, I think the one about how real ladies appear in the newspaper only twice in their lives, once in their wedding announcement and once in their obituary, is the weirdest and most insulting.  Insert eye roll for anyone who believes that a woman's purpose in existing is snagging a husband -- until she stops existing at all and is shoved six feet under.  It's like saying that women who speak up are shameful, that women's stories don't deserve to be told.  Which is, of course, utter nonsense.  Making our presence known in the world -- whether it be through a tabloid or Twitter feed -- is essential to women's well-being.  Which is something I thought a great deal about while watching/reading A Simple Favor.    

A Simple Favor (by Darcy Bell) is not a feel-good book.  It's kind of a feel-bad book, and I wouldn't have read it at all if I hadn't seen and liked the movie (directed by Paul Feig).  This is the premise:  Uber sophisticated and cool Emily (Blake Lively) befriends quirky cute people-pleaser Stephanie (Anna Kendrick) through their five-year-old sons in their sleepy Connecticut suburb.  Emily is married to a gorgeous British dude (Henry Golding) and does PR for a fashion designer.  She's a seasoned rule-breaker, a Hitchcock blonde who's easily bored and refuses to have her picture taken.  Stephanie is a widow who blogs.  She's a do-gooder supermom who bakes gluten-free cookies and apologizes for everything, a habit that alpha dog Emily insists she break.  If they were characters from The Baby-Sitters Club, then Emily would be Stacey and Stephanie would be Mary Anne.  Their friendship deepens quickly, with each revealing secrets.  Then, one day, Emily doesn't pick up her son from Stephanie's house, and what started as a tongue-in-cheek Peyton Place-type tale veers off into "48 Hours" territory.

Stephanie's blog (vlog in the movie) is, in many ways, the core of the story.  Being a blogger, I found this interesting.  I always like to know why people blog and whom they blog for.  For Stephanie, her blog is her identity, a way for her to showcase her stay-at-home-mommy brand and combat her loneliness.  She shares parenting tips, healthy recipes, and handmade friendship bracelets, beginning every post with a cheery Hi, moms! and signing off with a Love, Stephanie, suggesting that she and her fellow moms are all in this parenting thing together.  Yet despite Stephanie's efforts, she has few followers.  It isn't until Emily vanishes and Stephanie begins investigating Emily's disappearance that her blog becomes popular.  Solidarity, it seems, isn't as intriguing as sordidness.  Stephanie crafts posts that let Emily know that she knows she's out there.  She does so through subtext disguised as earnest grief and soul-searching, her posts becoming an echo of that old Mark Twain chestnut about fiction being the truth inside the lie.  As a result, her blog becomes more honest.  In exposing Emily, she stops apologizing, transforming this story from one of a runaway friend to one about the things we say vs. the things we don't, about the lies we tell each other and the lies we tell ourselves.

As I said, the movie and book are different.  The movie is funny.  It has a ring of mean-girl (and in one case guy) moms who serve as a sort of Greek chorus of Stephanie's torment, providing the all-too-real elements of competitive parents and PTA cliques.  The dialogue is spiked with dark humor that slices the tension, which is handy once things escalate.  The book, although a page turner, is umitigated by mirth of any kind and settles, stone-like, in the psyche.  Sometimes it's a little too creepy.  Also, in the movie Stephanie is likable.  Sure, (SPOILER ALERT!) she has a questionable, Flowers in the Attic past.  But she's kind and vulnerable and well meaning, and I wanted her to come out of this mess okay.  So, when she starts getting wise to Emily's ways and plans to break free, it's satisfying.  In the book she's a lapdog who never gets a clue, an unwitting (albeit willing) pawn in a game beyond her comprehension.  To this end, the most dramatic  difference between the movie and the book is that the movie ends one way and the book ends another.  And as everyone knows, the ending is the most important part of any story because it delivers the message.  In this case, the message is mighty confusing, a kind of Choose Your Own Adventure vortex of forks in the road.  One ending tells us that good triumphs over evil and also that life is pretty hilarious, so why not laugh at it already?  The other says that evil can never be caught, that's there's no escape from -- and no laughing at -- someone who's a sociopath.  I think that the ending you like says a lot about how you see the world.  Or, more to the point, if you see it through the eyes of an Emily or a Stephanie.   

But that's enough heavy stuff for one post.  Thankfully, this Woven Wisdom Charm Necklace lightens even the most somber of moods.  My favorite thing about it is how eclectic it is, the bold striped gumball beads contrasting with the bright tapestry charms and baby owls.  With so much going on, it was tough to find a top that would be a good backdrop, but this red POPSUGAR tee made it, well, pop.  That said, maybe Woven Wisdom isn't as far removed from this post as it seems, being complex and contradictory. 

'Cause what a tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive.

Sorry not sorry.

Love,
Tracy