Showing posts with label Dr. Pepper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dr. Pepper. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 20, 2022

Candy Cane Lane . . . but Make it Kooky

Once upon a time, candy canes came in only peppermint and sometimes, if you were lucky, cherry (which I loved because of their rainbow stripes).  But nowadays you can get them in almost any flavor, as evidenced during a recent outing when I picked up these:

That's right; you're looking at a soda lover's paradise of 7UP, Dr. Pepper, and A&W as well as -- wait for it -- that American classic, Twinkies!


When I saw these exotic offerings, I couldn't pass them up, even though I still had an unopened box of Hershey's mint candy canes from last year:

Believe it or not, I haven't sampled any yet.  They must remain "mint" in box, safe and secure in my underwear drawer, until December 24.  

Because that's when the Christmas treat train leaves the station . . . 

. . . and goes off the rails until New Year's.    

Sunday, October 25, 2020

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Nervous


Ah, the cinema. So glamorous and exciting and sweet and not just because it sounds like cinnamon. Is there anything quite like settling into a seat with a box of Junior Mints and a costs-only-a-quarter-more tub of Dr. Pepper while watching previews? Yes, I love going to the movies. And pre-pandemic, I went all the time. But now that my options are limited to whatever I can get on TV, I'm finding . . . that they're not so limited after all. There are a lot more movies out there than I ever imagined, some I've never even heard of. Just last weekend, I was scrolling through the Amazon Prime offerings when one such movie, Barefoot, popped up. I saw that Scott Speedman was in it and thought, oh, it's Ben from Felicity! Let's watch that!

Here's the rundown: Jay (Speedman) is a hospital janitor on parole; Daisy (Evan Rachel Wood) is in the psych ward and may or may not have murdered her mother.  Jay's a world-weary, rich kid-turned-gambler; Daisy's a shut-in who's never even eaten marshmallows.  They meet when Jay saves Daisy from a would-be molester.  Struck by his gesture, Daisy follows Jay out of the hospital and begs him to take her with him.  Jay protests but eventually relents, even though he's going to his parents' mansion for his brother's wedding.  Jay is estranged from his parents.  But he soon realizes that passing Daisy off as his new girlfriend may help get him back in their good graces so that they'll fund his new business venture.  Gentle awkwardness ensues as Daisy unsuccessfully navigates civilized society while garbed in bona fide stripper dresses (for some reason, Jay's favorite club seemed like a more sensible place to procure a wardrobe for Daisy than Target).  Nevertheless, Daisy is charming, a kind of fresh-limbed, Little Mermaid fish out of water who means well even as she stumbles.  Jay's mom takes a liking to her, even going so far as to lend her a dress.  But the wedding's only the beginning.  Jay steals his dad's brand-new, state-of-the-art camper, officially making him and Daisy on the run.  Still channeling Ariel, Daisy expresses wonder at everything she sees, proclaiming her day with Jay at a small town carnival to be the best she's ever had.  On the surface, the two seem so different.  But underneath, they're both outcasts trying to find their way in.  And that's how they get close and get through to each other.

One of Daisy's quirks is that she likes to be barefoot.  She never says why, but I think it's safe to assume that after so many years of confinement, she relishes the idea -- and symbolism -- of freeing her feet.  Daisy's backstory is especially interesting in this time of quarantine, when plenty of people are hunkering down in their houses.  Many of them probably feel trapped too.  Not me, of course -- you know I love living la vida solo.  But that's the thing about this crazy virus.  It makes you want to be kinder to everyone, no matter their point of view.  Because we're all human and going through stuff and deserve to have someone understand.

That said, today's crafty tie-in has nothing to do with sheltering in place or feet (I considered making a felt foot barrette but decided to spare you).  Although it is something that a slightly muddled, barefoot hippie might wear.  Yes, it's the Mixed-up Medallion Necklace, an eclectic accessory for the boho runaway in all of us.

Mixed-up Medallion Necklace

In keeping with the foot theme, here's a quote about feet from another movie that reminds us to be better.  Not that the quote is about being better -- it's not; if anything, it's about being mean.  But we're going for feet here.  You get it.

"The worst thing we've done is make Regina George's face smell like a foot."

Oh, Mean Girls.  You never let me down.

Monday, December 4, 2017

Trashy Togs and Kissing Frogs: Rags and Refuse Reimagined


 
Vegas, Maybe Necklace

Cardigan: Hearts & Roses London, Zulily
Top: Merona, Target
Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's
Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's
Sunglasses: So, Kohl's


Purple Circle Necklace

Sweatshirt: H&M
Skirt: Modcloth
Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Modcloth
Bag: Candie's, Kohl's
Barrettes, pin, purse charm, and sunglasses: The Tote Trove 


 Blue Moon Swoon Necklace

Top: Macy's
Skirt: Ellen Tracy, JCPenney
Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney
Bag: JCPenney
Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon
Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's
Bangle: Mixit, JCPenney
Barrette: The Tote Trove

I always thought it would be fun to do a photo shoot of super-glam clothes amid piles of trash.  Not gross trash, like fish heads and tampons, but nice trash, like crushed Dr. Pepper cans and lipstick-smeared tissues.  Maybe this is because I'm messy and am looking for a way to legitimize my lack of Martha Stewart-like organizational zeal.  Or maybe I just really like Dr. Pepper.  Either way, I think it would all make for a lovely landfill.

Two out of three of this week's necklaces were made from trash.  That is, trash as in this-used-to-be-part-of-some-store-bought-jewelry-that-fell-apart-while-I-was-wearing-it . . . after, like fifteen years (far be it from me to malign the marvel that is mass-produced fashion).  The focal point namesake moon in Blue Moon Swoon was once one of those stretchy rings, and the two gem clusters flanking it were segments in an equally stretchy bracelet.  The charms in Purple Circle were from a Gumby-esque bracelet, too.  As for Vegas, Maybe . . . well, she was minted from Michael's and Hobby Lobby -- so, new money, like most of the high rollers crowded around the roulette wheel.  But that's what I love about making things, the blending of the tarnished with the shiny, of the old with the new.

Fingers crossed one day I find that Dumpster.