New Wave Rave: Rock Around the Clock of Seagulls

New year, new you is an understatement for Oona Lockhart.  Having a New Year's Day birthday is one thing.  But in 1982, when she turns nineteen, she embarks on a brand-new life.  One minute, she's preparing to jam with her band; the next, she wakes up to find she's fifty-one.  That's right.  By some cosmic hiccup, Oona has become a time traveler.  At the stroke of midnight on each birthday, she "leaps" to another year in her life.  If time is money, than Oona's a pauper -- even though she's a millionaire.  (Time travel may be tough on the soul, but it's gold when playing the stocks.)  Her only guidance comes in the form of the letters she writes herself the year before, although they raise more questions than answers.  Because this is the story of Oona Out of Order, and it's one wild ride.  

Written by Ukrainian-born novelist Margarita Montimore, Oona Out of Order is different from anything I've read, not so much because of the time travel (I see you, The Time Traveler's Wife and The Midnight Library), but because of its vibe.  Although it's women's fiction, it doesn't have that pink gumball chick lit taste, which I appreciate (despite having a palate for said gumball), if only for the novelty.  Instead, it glitters with the grit of New York City's club scene, sex, drugs, and rock and roll ruling the earlier years of Oona's life.  Through it all, she grows and changes, the only constants her mom and music.  Both anchor her through the confusion and heartache that come with hurtling through the space-time continuum.  There's also a bit of a mystery going on, and I could kick myself (as per usual) for not figuring it out.  But I'll be a good little blogger and not breathe a word in case you decide to read this.     

Woven with what-ifs and dark romance, Oona Out of Order haunts you long after you're read the last page.  It would make a great movie, its poignant message intensified by a killer wardrobe and soundtrack.  Beautifully written, it keeps you guessing -- and entertained -- as you join Oona on each new journey to unlock the keys to her life and heart.                    

Cleveland Frocks: The Price is Stripe

"The White Stripes may be a great band, but when it comes to wearing stripes, I'm all about color."

I think that would be a good opener for an infomercial about rainbow-striped sweaters.  The super cheap, super flammable, super acrylic kind that should be stockpiled in the back of a Club Wagon.  The spokesman (for some reason I see a man) is a portly fellow wearing a too-tight Crayola-striped turtleneck.  He has a comb-over and eyes like mothballs.  In the background, there's a silhouette of a guy with Flock of Seagulls hair whaling on air guitar to a jazz cover of "Seven Nation Army."  (When the producers asked Jack White about using the original, he said "hail no".)  The big finish is when Mr. Comb-over screams, "$9.99 are you out of your mind?!" while maniacally tugging at what's left of his hair. 

Now, I'm in no position to razz on cheap sweaters.  Because the one in the first pic was only $12.99.  Which isn't so far from Club Wagon territory -- even if I did buy it from that Club Wagon called Kohl's.  Still, the siren song of satire was too strong for me.

Here are some other stripes that I'm posting just because they look cool:

Maybe what that infomercial needs is a few scarves and pairs of tights draped around Mr. Comb-over's neck  Either that, or replacing Mr. Comb-over with Drew Carey.  And Kathy Kinney, otherwise known as Mimi.  Or, as I like to call her, Big M.

Because Big M. brings the bold.  Also the bullying.  But mostly the bold. 

If she and Jack White got into a fight, I think she could take him.