High School Rules and Fools: An Education

It's no surprise that I was drawn to Elyssa Friedland's latest novel, The Most Likely Club, a where-are-they-now look at four friends who graduated high school in 1997.  After all, I was in the class of 2000.  And never quite got over not being voted best dressed (or best anything) senior year.  I even wrote an article for the school newspaper about the ridiculousness of senior superlatives, saying what next, props for the student who can stuff the most hoagies in his mouth? (High school me was a bit of a wiseass.)  

Anyway, although The Most Likely Club's Melissa, Priya, Tara, and Suki did receive such recognition (Most Likely to Win the White House, Cure Cancer, Open a Michelin-Starred Restaurant, and Join the Forbs 400, respectively), at forty-three, they're disappointed that none of it has come to fruition.  (Well, one has, but with a hefty price tag.)  Their twenty-fifth reunion, chaired by not-United-States-but-PTA-president Melissa, brings them back into each other's lives.  As they alternately reminisce and lament, they learn things about each other -- and themselves -- that they never knew.  And somewhere between the tears and tequila, they realize what's truly important.  

The Most Likely Club has all the feels.  Nerds in shining armor, girl power (yes, you can have one with the other!), suspense, humor, and a generous helping of '90s pop culture references (Friends!  Fiona Apple!  Chokers!).  It even has a well-placed Easter egg about Friedland's previous book, Last Summer at the Golden Hotel.  But best of all, it shines a light on how high school dreams and pressures sometimes set unrealistic expectations.  I can't imagine any woman not connecting with it on some level.  

Light-hearted and fun yet layered and real, The Most Likely Club would make a great movie (are you listening, Hollywood?).  

But for now it'll have to settle for being da bomb.  Or, you know, most likely to be read in one sitting.  

Hoop Memes and Football Teams

 Sour Apple Sparkle Necklace

Top: JCPenney

Skirt: Boscov's

Shoes: Bongo, Kohl's

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

 Seahorse of Course Necklace

Red top: Kohl's

Tank top: Marshalls

Skirt: Byer, JCPenney

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Boho Rainbow Necklace

Top: Alloy

Jeans: Bongo, Sears

Shoes: a.n.a, JCPenney

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Today may be Super Bowl Sunday, but here at the Trove, the hoopla is all about the hoops.  And why not?  The brown wooden hoop pendant that serves as the focal point for all three of this week's necklaces is as rustically Midwestern as Hoosiers itself (carved girly floral motif notwithstanding) and boasts a 1970s vibe to boot (or maybe I should say to sneaker).  I gave each one its own personality by doing what I love to do best -- gluing stuff to other stuff -- to turn these bench warmers into first string (er, wire) style stars.  So, channel your inner Jackie Moon (because Semi-Pro was set in the 1970s, and who doesn't love a Will Ferrell reference?) and meet the team!

Sour Apple Sparkle

An apple a day keeps the doldrums away -- especially if it's a Granny Smith doused in glitter.  Fiona here knows how to play to win, even if the music of one Ms. Apple was harvested sometime in the 1990s.  I think that Fiona could probably hold her own in the 1970s, though, what with her super-long hair, boho clothes, and feminist lyrics.  Plus, she could belt out a badass ballad with the best of them, so we'll just let this anachronism slide, slide, slippity slide for the sake of this post, much like (necklace, not songstress) Fiona does across the basketball court.  Even if I just committed another anachronism by quoting a Coolio song from the 1990s.     

Seahorse of Course  

A horse is a horse, of course, of course, and no one can talk to a horse of course that is, of course, unless the horse is the famous  . . . Mrs. Edna.  Sweet and sugary in shades of peach, mint, and buttercream, this seahorse-studded stunner wages a wave of whimsy against the chocolatey earth of her own land-locked hoop.  Yet this pony of a paradox doesn't end there.  Despite her penchant for pastels, Mrs. Edna is no powder puff (I managed to sneak some football in there after all); she's a surf and turf toughie who plays by the rules, her only traveling from the ranch to the beach.

Boho Rainbow

And finally we have a contender that captures all the colors of a Kansas rainbow.  In a sunny salute to the Age of Aquarius, Rainbow knows how to bust a move on the court -- even if it is the mall food court (hey, she's not last in our lineup for nothing).  Fruit salad for her please, and make it a large; Emerald City sister or not, this miss is no munchkin.  More cheerleader than three-pointer powerhouse, Rainbow makes up for her lack of athletic prowess with her tenacious team spirit.  Because a diet of fruit always keeps you going.  Just ask Fiona.    

And that brings us to end of the game.  As they say in sports and accessorizing, go big or go home.  Because the bigger the hoop, the bigger the . .  well, you know.

Here's hoping your bowl was super duper.