A Passion for Fashion and Family

You know that I loved Jennifer Weiner's novels Big Summer and That Summer.  So of course I was looking forward to the third installment in this not-quite-a-trilogy tribute to the most wonderful time of the year (sorry not sorry, Andy Williams).  Even if some of the things that happen are more sun-streaked sad than beach read.  This last book, The Summer Place, is no different, a bittersweet family drama about the road not taken.  Each of Weiner's characters comes to a crossroads, forced to choose and then wonder what might have been.  Their destinies are intertwined in peculiar yet believable ways, creating the kind of irresistible suspense that makes this novel such a page turner.  Yet it's a passage about almost-concert-pianist-turned-music-teacher Sarah's love for -- what else? -- clothes that I find most captivating:

"Sarah's job at the music school had no dress code.  If she'd wanted to, she could have worn jeans and blouses, or even T-shirts and sneakers to work.  But Sarah loved clothes.  She loved finding new boutiques and discovering new designers; she loved the feeling of buying the perfect azure-blue necklace to wear with a new navy-blue dress, and a pair of vintage leather riding boots to pull the look together.  Even the clothes she didn't wear made her happy.  She'd brush the sleeve of the pale-pink cashmere sweater she'd worn on her second date with Eli and feel, again, the first flush of infatuation; she'd flick past the black gown she'd worn for her last recital and feel a bittersweet pang.  She loved the challenge of putting together an outfit, searching out each individual piece, shopping her closet, combining old and new.  Getting dressed was its own kind of creativity, and it satisfied her in the same primal way she imagined gathering a perfect sheaf of wheat or an unblemished handful of berries might have delighted her hunting and gathering forebearers." (121)   

Weiner gets this exactly right, elevating Sarah's -- and women's -- passion for fashion to an artform.  It's as reverent as it is whimsical and sentimental.  The setup (which really, I should've started with) is that Sarah's husband Eli, who drives her crazy during quarantine, goes on a decluttering kick that involves tossing some of her most prized possessions, the things that make her feel like her.  Knowing this makes Sarah's wardrobe seem even more -- not to get all Narnia on you -- magical.    

Speaking of which, it's the magic of being true to oneself that ties the tie-dyed ribbons of The Summer Place together.  Even when, especially when, following one's heart leads to family conflicts.  Weiner shows us that having it all isn't possible -- but that having something, even it if it's just one thing -- that we truly love always is.    

Sleigh, Winter

Nice Cream Cupcake Necklace 

Sweater: Cara Santana for Apt. 9, Kohl's

Skirt: H&M

Shoes: 2 Lips Too

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Silver and pink sequin bangles: Target

Blue cut-out bangle: B Fabulous

Pink wavy bangle: Mixit, J. C. Penney's

Blue beaded bracelet: Cloud Nine

 Blue Bell Spell Necklace

Tee: Macy's

Turtleneck: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Dollhouse, Macy's

Shoes: First Love by Penny Loves Kenny, J. C. Penney's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Amazon

Belt: Marshalls

Socks: Gifted

Indigo Glow Necklace

Top: Merona, Target

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Michael Antonio, JCPenney

Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman, Kohl's

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Grape purse charm: Charming Charlie

Celestial purse charms: Macy's

Not too long ago, I started my car to go to work and heard that sad non-sound that can mean only one thing -- my battery was dead.  Luckily, the husband was still home and went to Advance Auto Parts to get me a new one.  Now, I was grateful.  Obvi.  But when I started my car again, I was dismayed to find that I had no clock or radio.  So, I set off for the first of many journeys in what I called "the quiet car where time stands still."  I told myself that the lack of tunes and timekeeping didn't matter, that I was just stoked to have working wheels.  It made me think back to when I was a kid and my sister and I were on one of our many errand odysseys with our mother.  It had been a long day of slogging through Jamesway (remember that?) and Acme and who knows where else, and we got into an argument because she wanted to listen to music, and I wanted to listen to nothing, or, as I so eloquently put it, "the road."  My mom got so frustrated that she, in a cliche of cliches, stopped the car.  The only explanation I have for my lame stance was that I needed a break from the incessant bleating of Hall and Oats.  Although I've since cringed at my diva behavior, when trapped in my quiet, compromised car, I tried to channel my old childhood logic and tell myself that silence was golden.  That it was just me and my thoughts and the open road, like in "Night Rider" minus KITT.  What more could a modern woman -- and driver -- want?

Um, Andy Williams.  Because it isn't Christmas until Andy comes out.  That said, I was over the moon when the husband was able to rectify the situation just in time for me to sing along with Andy all the way to Cape May for the holiday house tour.  Because there's nothing quite like Christmas carols.  

Until you play them one time too many.

So, here's a seasonal but non-holiday song perfect for today, the winter solstice.  Yes, it's that earworm "Dear Winter."  AJR's latest is seemingly everywhere, so much so that people (okay, DJs) are predicting that it will inspire many a new mom to name her baby boy or girl for this brutal, teeth-chattering time of year.  It's basically a letter from a guy to his unborn (i.e. imaginary) son.  This is the last verse:

"Dear Winter, I'm looking for your mom

I gotta find a girl that doesn't mind that I'm inside my head a lot

Winter, it won't be too long

First, I just gotta find your mom."

I can't decide if this is the poetic musing of a misunderstood, sensitive guy who just wants a kid already, or the narcissistic rant of a misogynist hell-bent on making some chick his baby mama.  Either way, though, I still like it.  For one thing, it beats listening to tires against gravel.  (Or tires against a raccoon.)  For another, it makes for a clean segue to this week's necklaces.  Because they're weird.  Just like Winter and his daddy.  If I were listing them, I'd say that they were a "true blue treat," the "ice-ing on the cupcake," and, of course, that corny catchall, "a whirlwind of winter whimsy."  But I'm not, so I won't.  I'll just wear them in good health and strangeness as I tool around in my car, singing badly along to Andy and AJR and lots of other stuff except for Phil Collins.

I hate Phil Collins.  

Maybe he was what was playing that day instead of those scapegoats Hall and Oats.      

Christmas Carol Playlist Extended

This time of year, radio stations that have been blasting Rudolph and Andy Williams since Thanksgiving return to their regularly scheduled programs.  Which is as it should be.  Because you can take only so much of the "Twelve Days of Christmas," especially the versions with those weird lyrics about bringing just four colored lights for the tree.  (I'm looking at you, Andy.)  But as for the rest of the holiday hoopla, I feel like I'm just getting started.  Maybe that's because I finished decorating the day before Christmas Eve and plan to leave everything up until Martin Luther King Day.  Some people may think that's strange, but to me, when all the excitement/merriment/chocolate mint of the big day is over, it's finally time to sit back, cinnamon tea in hand, and enjoy all those festive garlands and scary Santas.  It's also the best time to score bargains.  Especially on decorations.

Years of experience have taught me not to burst into Target or Macy's expecting mountains of discounted, glittery loot to fall at my snow boots, though.  The post-game shopping game requires more strategy.  Instead of expecting a garden of goods, I hunt for delicate dandelions and violets curling up from the sidewalk crack crannies of shelves and clearance bins.  This pay dirt is often half-hidden by the moss and weeds of stuff that's broken or just plain ugly (and yes, I know that most people consider dandelions to be weeds, but to this horticultural hoarder, they're the belles of the Christmas ball).  Like so much of life, post-holiday shopping is all about managing expectations.  So although I didn't unearth as much as I would've liked during my expeditions, I was pretty pleased to find this wreath for 70% off at Michaels (just $18!) and this trio of LC Lauren Conrad pastel pine trees for 70% at Kohl's (just $2.12 thanks to $10 in Kohl's cash!).

Here's some other stuff that less holiday hustle and bustle gave me the chance to do:

1) Wear (and photograph) this Pretty Pompom Presents Barrette.  I've always wanted to make an accessory out of those tiny shiny packages they sell with the mini tree decorations in craft stores, and now I have!  I think the mini pompoms add that certain something.

Ugly sweater print top: Xhilaration, Target
Mickey & Minnie sweatshirt: Disney, Kohl's

 Pretty Pompom Presents Barrette

2) Take a proper pic of the husband's newest gingerbread creation: a castle!  

This is the first thing the husband built using his own homemade gingerbread instead of graham crackers.  It's been standing for a couple of weeks now and so has proved to be structurally sound.  I assume that it's also delicious -- emphasis on "assume," as half-month-old gingerbread doesn't make for the best eating (or the calmest colon).  Still, I was more than willing to gobble up the consolation prize of leftover gumdrops and Swedish fish.

3) Like most people, I visited with lots of family this week.  And most of them agreed that what everyone wants for Christmas after Christmas is to stay home in their pajamas all day.  There's just something about the go-go-go pace that comes with cranking out cookies, prettying up presents, and smiling like you mean it on demand all the time that makes you want to hibernate with a good book, Netflix account, and/or homemade tattoo kit (hey, I don't know what you're into) until March when Rita's reopens with free water ice.  Yep, the week after Christmas is that sweet spot of you-time (provided that you don't have pets or small children -- or parents -- in diapers) between the 25th and whenever you've agreed to rejoin the rat race. 

And that makes it truly -- sing it with me, Andy -- the most wonderful time of the year.

We Three Rings of Orient Are and Santa Claus is Coming to Clown

Dress: Target
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Bag: Macy's
Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Ring: PinkBopp, Etsy
Necklaces, pins, brooches: The Tote Trove
White bangle: Mixit, JCPenney
Red and lime bangles: B Fabulous
Burgundy bangle: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's
Slender red bangle: Candie's, Kohl's
Lime stretch bracelet: Cloud Nine

Christmas can be a real three-ring circus.  More than three, really, considering all the references to rings in Christmas songs.  There are the five golden rings in "The Twelve Days of Christmas" and "I'll give you my present, a wedding ring, hear me sing!" in Andy Williams's "Christmas Holiday."  Then there are the ring onomatopoeia shout-outs, that is, the sound of ringing in "Silver Bells," "Jingle Bells," and the sophisticated yet haunting "Carol of the Bells."  But the ring I want to sing about now is the one I just bought from fellow blogger and Etsian Samantha over at PinkBopp.  It's so sweet, a little Candyland right on my hand!  Santa, a gingerbread woman, and a mitten spread cheer from a retro-style red plastic cameo in a super adorable collage of Christmas cuteness.  I've been wearing it with red and green outfits all week, and every time I look at it, I feel the magic of the season -- and also, the need to eat gingerbread.  Is that wrong?  If so, my apologies to Hansel and Gretel. 

Merry Christmas Kawaii Statement Ring, Pink Bopp

Speaking of things that ring and sing, I made a fresh batch of lady brooches, this time, like the city in the aforementioned "Silver Bells," all dressed in holiday style.  Then again, their sunglasses say mai tais in Miami.  Mary may have already had one too many, as her hat -- and, indeed, head -- are askew.

 Fabulous Felt Carol Brooch

Fabulous Felt Holly Brooch

 Fabulous Felt Mary Brooch

Finally, although I'm no Oprah or Maria von Trapp, here are a few of my favorite Christmas things:

1) The husband's hand-carved duck decoys decking the halls (okay, our mantle) in festive felt scarves.  Also, Kermit.  To be clear, Kermit was not hand-carved.

2) Norman Rockwell's Christmas Book, which has Christmas music and classic stories accompanied by Norman's iconic art.  I grew up with this book, and my favorite thing in it was always Ogden Nash's "The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus," a wonderfully weird poem about a kid named Jabez Dawes.  He, like me, did not believe in Santa Claus.  Unlike me, he got turned into a jack-in-the-box.  By Santa Claus.  Guess the jolly old elf got the last laugh.

3) And, finally, Christmas shopping.  Here I am at Kohl's on Black Friday with the Abominable Snow Monster from the claymation Rudolph.  It's a rare shot of me and an even rarer shot of the Yeti, but then big bargains call for big guns.

Merry Christmas!  Party hearty and avoid figgy pudding.

Rhinestone Resurrection

 Pink Confetti Necklace

Dress: Modcloth

Cardigan: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Nine West, DSW

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

 Haute Mess Necklace

Sweater: Candie's, Kohl's

Skirt: Forever 21

Shoes: Parade of Shoes

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

 Folksy Fashionista Necklace

Top: Marshalls

Skirt: Marilyn Monroe, Macy's

Shoes: Alloy

Bag: Kenneth Cole Reaction

Jacket: Gap

Belt: Wet Seal

Pastel Party Necklace

Dress: So, Kohl's
Tee: So, Kohl's
Blouse: Candie's, Kohl's
Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney
Bag: XOXO, ROSS Dress for Less
Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

As I've recently mentioned, I've been going through my store-bought and handmade jewelry collections, weeding out the weak links (both literally and figuratively) and repurposing them whenever possible.  I'm sure there isn't a jewelry artist out there who hasn't looked at some early effort, scratched her (or his) head, and thought, "What the hay was I thinking?"  My experience was no different.  Although my most cringe-worthy offense was haphazard (ok, lazy) wire wrapping, I was most struck by just how simple most of the necklaces were.  On more than one occasion I'd been guilty of stringing a single strand of beads around a lone so-so pendant, achieving that newbie-pitfall effect of "why bother?"  Snip went my pliers, releasing a bevy of bits and baubles destined for bolder things.  Take the Haute Mess Necklace in this post.  It contains pendants from six former necklaces (plus one brand-new one).  Although it's more boho than most of the stuff I make, its mixed-up, broken-jewelry-box-bits look exudes the kind of playful  irreverence that I've come to expect from all of my pieces, whether they be glam or earthy or silly.  And as this audience well knows, there's nothing quite as satisfying as breathing new life into an outdated something that was bound for the dust bin.

Speaking of old things, last week I received an invitation in the mail to join AARP.  This would probably be a good place to say that I'm 32, not 52, and that this is the fifth such invitation I've received.  The opening line of the letter said, "Our records show that you haven't yet registered for the valuable benefits of AARP membership, even though you are fully eligible."

There was more.  Something along the lines of "discounts . . .blah blah blah . . . social security . . . blah blah blah . . . free tote bag with membership." But I was stuck on that first part, thinking, "What records?!"  Had my purchases of Andy Williams CDs, cozy murder mysteries, and craft supplies over the years automatically put my name on some over-the-hill people list?  Don't get me wrong.  I heart the elderly.  They wear matchy outfits and eat JELL-O and clip coupons, all things I respect and enjoy.  So instead of being insulted, I've decided to take this incident as a sign that I'm an old soul.  (That is, if that's possible in one who still drinks juice boxes and wears headbands.)  What's more, there's a small part of me that wants to get my hands on that tote bag and attack it with a Bedazzler (something, come to think of it, that the elderly would probably appreciate).  Maybe twenty years from now I'll take AARP up on their offer, sending them a jokey email (or whatever Jetsonian mode of communication is in vogue by then) about being their "oldest" (ha ha, get it?!) member.

Who am I kidding?  I'll probably just take the tote bag and run.  I've never been much of a joiner.

Book Report: Moon River and Me by Andy Williams

I've blogged about my love of Andy Williams's Christmas music and its starring role in my childhood (it's not Christmas until Andy comes out!) many a time.  But it wasn't until I read Williams's autobiography, Moon River and Me, that I met the man (as VH1 would say) behind the music.  For instance, I didn't know that he, along with his three brothers, had been part of one of America's first "boy bands."  Or that after the breakup of said boy band he was so broke that he resorted to eating dog food.  Of course, he was eventually able to upgrade to caviar, and that was when the anecdotes became really interesting.  In addition to launching the Emmy-winning "Andy Williams Show," the "King of Easy Listening" hosted the first televised Golden Globes, the first-ever Grammys (and went on to do so for the next seven years), discovered the Osmonds, owned the record label that released the first Jimmy Buffett album, was a part owner of the Phoenix Suns, was (and still is) an art connoisseur and collector, and topped it all off by returning to his Midwestern roots to build his beloved theater in Branson, Missouri. 

As is the case with almost any celebrity autobiography, Moon River and Me has its fair share of scandal.  Williams's first wife was a nineteen-year-old French cancan dancer who, after their divorce, shot and killed her Olympic skier boyfriend.  Williams himself (and it pains me to say this) sometimes comes off as chauvinistic and lecherous, especially upon shacking up with a baton-twirling coed at the age of 50.  A times the writing seems stilted, not so much in narrative style, but in what Williams is willing to reveal.  Yet at others it's surprisingly candid, baudy even, coming from a personality marketed as wholesome.       

After a Google search I learned that Williams is now 84 and battling bladder cancer.  That made me sad.  Not to mention a little sheepish for some of my less complimentary thoughts. 

Overall, I can't deny that Moon River and Me is an illuminating and entertaining read.  There were times when I was laughing out loud (if not always for the right reasons), and I remain bowled over by Williams's perfectionism and unflinching work ethic.  There's no doubt that the classic crooner has led a fascinating life and is deserving of every ounce of his success.  But for me, and perhaps for others, the heart of his legacy remains his timeless holiday hits.  As Williams writes, "To this day people stop me on the street and tell me how much they cherished the Christmas shows and how much it meant to their whole family.  I've always loved Christmas, and for me it really is "the most wonderful time of the year." (155)               

An apt note to end on if ever there was one.

Season's Readings

Here is the "ton of excellent books" that I got for Christmas and made mention of in yesterday's (admittedly catty) book report post.  The collection spans the gamut from mainstream to obscure, including bestsellers such as Nicholas Sparks's latest, The Best of Me (a gift from the bf, who never fails to deliver the newest Sparks saga each December), and token titles like the Mardi Gras murder mystery Frill Kill.  I like to think of it as my new mini library, the perfect companion for a week's staycation.

New Etsy Buys and a Little Surprise

When it was time to scope out Valentine's Day gifts for my family, I returned to Etsy's Ivy Lane Designs, where I'd found the wonderful Andy Williams notebook for my sister the Christmas before last. This time I discovered a notebook featuring another campy crooner, this time for my mom.

When I was a kid, my mom played her Michael Bolton tapes in the car so often that "Soul Provider," "How Can We Be Lovers (If We Can't Be Friends)?," "Said I Loved You But I Lied," and "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?" became the soundtrack of my childhood. (Well, that and Hall and Oates.) She looked a little shocked when she saw Michael's face peering at her from beneath the wrapping paper. (As would anyone.) But I think she was amused.

Here are some of the other goodies I picked up:

I didn't find Uncle Oinker's Gummy Bacon candy on Etsy. A friend of my mom's stumbled upon it at Jack's Country Store and thought it might be a fun gag gift for the bf, because he's such a fan of bacon. I liked the idea so much that I ran with the theme, throwing in the Oscar Mayer notebook pictured above and a card featuring a heart made of -- what else -- bacon. He seemed to get a kick out of it.

I've Said it Before, and I'll Say it Again: It's Not Christmas Until Andy Comes Out

Upcycled Andy Williams Christmas album notebook, Ivy Lane Designs

If you were reading this blog last December, then you already know about my great love and respect for the Christmas music of Andy Williams. But just in case you weren't, I'll recap. Every Christmas season when my sister and I were kids, my mom played one of Andy Williams's holiday tapes, (then later, CDs), for us, a tradition she carried over from her own mother, who started it all with the record. As a result, I've always associated those happy tunes with tree trimming, cookie baking, and shopping (okay, mostly shopping, as the tape was the soundtrack for many a mall pilgrimage). To this day, it just isn't Christmas until I've heard Andy belt out the fabulously kitschy "so hoop-de-do and dickory-dock and don't forget to hang up your sock" of his signature "Happy Holiday/It's the Holiday Season."

For me, Christmas began yesterday. December 9 was admittedly a little late to be getting things started. As if to make up for all those wasted days, I belted out each song with added gusto, all the while naively thinking I had a pretty good voice, as most people probably do when their own untrained chords are masked by the recordings of professionals.

So, what's my favorite Andy song? I have to go with the aforementioned "Happy Holiday/It's the Holiday Season." But I also enjoy Andy's more well-known "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." (Remember when it was featured in that back-to-school Staples commercial a few years back? The one where the dad is joyfully flinging highlighters and notebooks into a shopping cart while his kids look on glumly?) Fab though the song is though, one line has always perturbed me: "There'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago." What's with the ghost stories? Are they sitting around a campfire or something? In the snow? It's Christmas, not Halloween. (I realize that Andy isn't to blame for this gaffe, as he didn't write the lyrics. That honor goes to Eddie Pola and George Wyla. Or at least it does according to answers.com or whatever search engine I queried.)

Scary ghost stories or not, hearing Andy Williams's Christmas carols again has inspired me to get on with the season already, to hang those last ornaments and buy those last gifts and forget all about life's daily hiccups to embrace the magic of the season.

Thanks, Andy. I know it wasn't easy.

A Very Etsy Christmas

This Christmas, I had the best time searching for gifts on Etsy. My purchases ran the gamut from jewelry to prints. Everyone seemed genuinely pleased upon opening everything. Also, each of these sellers sent everything quickly, so I didn't have to worry about stuff not getting here before the big day. So, without further ado, here's what I bought.

My sister was the easiest person to shop for, as she had helpfully marked several Etsy shops and items as favorites. Here's what I picked:

Andy Williams Christmas Album Notebook, Ivy Lane Designs

Red Sparrow Necklace, Design by Cassandra

Headphones Owl Tee, Gnome Enterprises

Ladder Necklace, Jibby and Juna

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner Magnets, Elloh

Mysterious Butterfly Necklace, Mama's Little Babies

Queen Anne's Lace Jersey Print Scarf, Dwellin Style

Yellow Flower Super Bunny, Murdock Design

My sister liked this Mysterious Butterfly Necklace and Queen Anne's Lace Jersey Print Scarf so much that she put them on right away! And the Yellow Flower Super Bunny was such a hit that she carried it around all day.

Philadelphia Eagles Golf Club Cover, Tracey Knits

Ode to 30 Rock Print, Elloh

At first I thought it would be impossible to find something for Dad on Etsy. But then I interviewed Tracey Rediker of Tracey Knits for my featured artist series. I asked her if she could make a custom Eagles golf club cover, and she obliged in record time! My dad, who is the most diehard Eagles fan out there, got a huge kick out of it. For Dad's next gift, I returned to the tried-and-true Elloh, where I stumbled upon this striking likeness of the 30 Rock crew. 30 Rock being one of Dad's favorite shows, I knew he'd be happy. He was, adding that he had no idea that Etsy offered such personal, unique gifts.

Flirty Brown-eyed Susan Scarf, Babbidge Patch

Mom loves a great accessory, and this Flirty Brown-eyed Susan Scarf screamed her style in brown in gold. She wound it around her neck immediately.

Yoda Star Wars Golf Club Cover, Tracey Knits

AC/DC Vinyl Fine Photograph, Brief Moments

Superhero Fridge Magnets, What's Eating Yin

Looking over my shoulder as I was surfing Etsy one night, the bf spied Yoda and was instantly charmed. "You don't even play golf," I said. "So?" he replied. "You can put him anywhere." I couldn't argue with that, especially because Yoda was so darn adorable. So into the cart he went. The bf started doing a (surprisingly dead-on) Yoda impression upon opening it. 'Nuff said. Yoda now resides on an empty paper towel roll on our bookshelf, on display for all to see. The bf was also excited about the AC/DC Vinyl Fine Photograph (already hanging in our hallway) and Superhero Fridge Magnets. They were my little way of saying, "Here's some masculine décor. Thanks for living in a house overflowing with girly tote bags and shoes."

Nautical Lighthouse Throw Pillow, KelRae Designs

The bf's stepmom loves lighthouses, so when I found this Nautical Lighthouse Throw Pillow, I knew it was perfect.

So there you have it. My first Very Etsy Christmas was a success. I can't wait to see what I find next year!