Red Letter, Yellow Leather: Summer in Stages

Skirt: A New Day, Target

Necklace: INC, Macy's; Strawberry clip: Kate Spade New York for Target

Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's

Top: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Shoes: Jessica Simpson Collection, DSW

Dress: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, DSW

Bag: Kate Spade New York for Target

Top: New York & Company

Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Shoes: Nine West, Amazon

Dress: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bag: Kenneth Cole Reaction, Gifted

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

This post isn't about public speaking prep.  Nor am I wearing leather.  But I am wearing red and yellow and layers, which in summer amounts to around the same thing.

Of course, now that it's officially summer, we're that much closer to summer fits on The Tote Trove timeline.  

Because with all the schlepping and shopping and, yes, oversharing, things move a little more slowly here. 😏

If These Corns Could Talk . . .

Top row: Anne Michelle, J. C. Penney's; Mix No. 6, DSW; Mix No. 6, DSW; Betsey Johnson, Macy's; Impo, DSW; Jessica Simpson, DSW

Middle row: Qupid, Ami Clubwear; Bucco, Kohl's; Impo, DSW; Mix No. 6, DSW; Kenneth Cole Reaction, Marshalls; Two Lips Too, J. C. Penney's

Bottom row: Shoe Republica, Ami Clubwear; Nine West, Kohl's; Naughty Monkey, Zulily; Mix No. 6., DSW; Breckelle's, Ami Clubwear

. . . then I'd be all ears.  And by corns I mean the ones on your toes that you get from wearing stilettos.  (By the way, if you're wondering what corns would say, I think it'd be something like, "Thanks for being vain and giving me life!  Don't ever switch to Easy Spirits!)  I've never met a heel that I didn't like, but this quarantine has changed my favored footwear to slippers.  Also, flip flops when I take out the trash.  Yet in a strange way, not wearing my shoes makes me appreciate them even more.  Instead of being (albeit beautiful) necessities to get me from point A to point B, they've been elevated to works of art above the indignities of dirt and toe sweat.  Wearing them seems like blasphemy.  After all, parking lots are minefields of old gum, lugees, and cigarette butts.  And those are the nice ones.

Before the pandemic, I wouldn't think twice about putting on a pair of skyscrapers and traipsing all over Target.  (To be fair, I'd usually been to work first, but still, wearing heels never stopped me from shopping.)  Sometimes people (usually old ladies) would stop me and say, "How can you walk in those things?!"  I'd smile and say that I was used to it, then go on my merry way, praying that I wouldn't fall on my face.  But on the inside I was always annoyed.  Now that the most uncomfortable thing to pierce my sole is a tread-studded slipper sock, I've gained a different perspective.  Because those shoes were painful.  Maybe those ladies weren't so much catty as concerned about my arch support.

That having been said, here are some of my most striking clodhoppers for your (and, okay, my) viewing pleasure.  I love how snug they look in their happy box beds, all arranged like tarted-up tessellations.  It's tough to pick a favorite, but if pressed I'd have to go with the Impo red rainbow wedges.  Which is ironic because they're completely canvas.  I usually avoid buying sandals with any kind of fabric inside because I hate that mark your skin leaves on them (toe sweat strikes again!).  But this summer I knew I'd be wearing them for a few minutes at most just to take pictures and thought, why not?  Thanks, COVID-19! 

I've yammered on about heels enough for one post.  But am I any closer to deciding if wearing them can be rationalized away with a glib, too-glam-to-give-a damn, insert hair toss, "Beauty is pain"?  Or, is this so-called fashion statement as barbaric as foot binding in ancient China?  As much as I love giving my bunions a break, a picture's worth a thousand words.  Or, as is the case with this picture, steps.  Which is my way of saying all hail the heel.

So, here's to having your corns and eating them too.

Look out ladies of Target.  It's on.

For the Love of Lincoln . . .

 Rainbow Rectangles Necklace

Tee: Gifted

Skirt: L'Amour by Nanette Lepore for JCPenney

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Guess

Scarf: Express

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 I Heart Rainbows Necklace

Top: Material Girl, Macy's

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Loop, Toilet Water, Ocean City

Belt: Wet Seal

 Black and Blue Bow Necklace

Top: Lily White, Target

Dress: XOXO, Macy's

Shoes: Venus

Bag: Kenneth Cole Reaction

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

. . . is an intro no doubt tempting more than one blogger this Valentine's-Day-slash-Presidents'-Day-weekend.  Washington, while not given billing, is paid tribute by the white top on display in outfit number two.  (Well, at least his hair is.)  My faithful Modcloth skirt is included for similar reasons.  Because nothing says you love the USA like a unicorn.

And now, because it would be inappropriate to expound upon presidential passions, we'll move on to the hearts and flowers portion of our program, which will be told through pictures of, well, hearts. And a Little Golden Book.

Here are some valentines I made for my family.  The husband's, I must confess, was store-bought.  (Because when it comes to romance, it's Target or bust.)

Yes, that is Little Golden Books all-star The Poky Little Puppy peeking out of that heart nestled in that lady's hair.

Some nice, old-timey storybook pictures.  I'm especially partial to the prince's blond flip.  

Before I pack it in, I found another nugget for team Washington (something more bankable than unicorns, chances being slim that Washington was a Brony) in the form of this Books-a-Million desk calendar quote:

"Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence."

Wise words, Washington.  I'll never laugh at your teeth again.

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.

Supper Served Up Soft (and Also, Some Rainbows)

 Fabulous Felt Steak Supper Necklace

Dress: JCPenney

Shrug: The Limited, Marshalls

Shoes: Alloy

Bag: DSW

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

 Fabulous Felt Ham it Up Necklace

Top: Bisou, Bisou, JCPenney

Skirt: Bar III, Macy's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Marshalls

 Sedate Sparkler Necklace

Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Skirt: Marilyn Monroe, Macy's

Shoes: Betseyville

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Belt: Izod

 Fabulous Felt Shooting Stars Barrette

Top: Victoria's Secret

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Kenneth Cole Reaction

Jacket: Vanilla Star, Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Shooting Stars Necklace

Dress: Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Marshalls

Wallet: Betsey Johnson

Scarf: Boscov's

Sad is the day when all of your meat and potatoes merch disappears from your web site.  Oh, sure.  It's nice to know that someone out there is rocking your flavorful felt rendition of a 1950s-style square meal around her neck or in her side part.  But it's also a bummer to not be able to log on to your humble corner of Etsy and see said supper waiting to serve as some clotheshorse's main course.  So, for all those kooky carnivores out there (but mostly, as I said, for me), I crafted more crazy collars.  As the good people at Hillshire Farms would've said during their last ad campaign, "Go meat!"

Naturally, I made a daintier, bead-bedecked version of my erstwhile Fabulous Felt Steak Dinner Necklace. But I also made the Fabulous Felt Ham it Up Necklace.  I'm not ashamed to admit that this portrait of pork was inspired by none other than my healing hand wound.  Round and pink, it had a reddish, slightly off-center circle that made me think of a cartoon Christmas ham.  If that's not an example of art emerging from adversity, then I don't know what is.