Trash Bash: Celebrating (and Berating) Stinky

 

In the spirit of revisiting the nostalgia and wisdom of TV shows from my childhood, I finally took a gander at The Pursuit of Grouchiness: Oscar the Grouch's Guide to Life, which is a gift book I got last Christmas.  Now, there are only three other famous Oscars that I can think of: Oscar from The Office, Oscar Mayer, and that gold statue that everyone in Hollywood covets come award season.  Needless to say, this book isn't about any of them, but the not-so-loveable character who lives on the seamier side of Sesame Street.  Everyone knows that Oscar the Grouch is a misanthrope in Muppet's clothing, a naysayer of the first order who's probably been kicked by life even more than his trash can.  

This would probably be a good time to reveal that I've spent most of my life as a pessimist -- in other words, a better-smelling Oscar, but an Oscar all the same.  These last few years, though, I've turned a corner into optimist territory, and I'll be the first to admit that it's a much brighter, more beautiful, and all around easier place to live.  Nevertheless, the snarky ghost of Tracy past couldn't help cracking a smile at some of Oscar's less-than-sunny-sentiments.  Here are some of my (her?) favorite parts.  Even if one is the about the author page.  

"We're grouches, we can only be happy when it rains."

Whoa.  A garbage can dweller who's only happy when it rains?!  Is it me, or was Garbage front woman Shirley Manson inspired to name her band and first hit single after the original Dumpster diver?   

"Morning people annoy me.  So do all other people."

I think this one speaks for itself.

"Oscar the Grouch doesn't need to explain himself to you.  

He lives in a trash can on Sesame Street."

I like this one because I still struggle to not explain myself.  

And finally, here's the incongruously upbeat bookmark I used to mark the aforementioned Oscar and friends (enemies? frenemies?) page.  Tricked out with the neon peace sign, yin yang, and happy face that were the poster child trio of '60s-turned-'90s pop culture, it stands for pretty much everything that Oscar doesn't. 

That said, the, ahem, Oscar (Emmy?  No, just go with the bit) goes to . . .

. . . Oscar the Grouch for his portrayal of a curmudgeon on Sesame Street! 

 Because anyone who expends that much enthusiasm for being miserable is, deep down, loving life.  

Oscar the Pouch: The Envelope, Please

Cross My Heart Necklace 

Festival Flair Envelope Bag

Pink top: Decree, JCPenney

Maroon blouse: Kohl's

Skirt: Bubblegum, Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Belt: Marshalls

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Garden Party Envelope Bag

Top: Marshalls

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Payless

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's 

Fruit Bowl Envelope Bag

Top: Marshalls

Skirt (a dress!): Modcloth

Shoes: Chinese Laundry, DSW

Belt: Marshalls

Sunglasses: JCPenney

I almost called this post "Oscar the Slouch," but catchy though that was, it didn't make much sense.  Another contender was "Oscar the Couch," as that's where I (and probably you) am glued tonight, watching Kimmel crack jokes as Hollywood's finest compete for little gold men.  (So far, my favorite part is when Kimmel made it rain Red Vines and Junior Mints from the ceiling.)  But it was "Oscar the Pouch" that, ahem, took the title.  Because I'm writing about receptacles, damn it.  And also, I like kangaroos.  

It's not every crafter that would embellish Oscar-themed clutches with pompoms and felt, but then, I'm not every crafter.  Or, for that matter, every Oscars viewer, having seen exactly one of the films nominated (Florence Foster Jenkins), my cinematic speed being more Sesame Street than serious.  Which is just one of the reasons I'm giving a shout-out to everyone's favorite garbage can-dwelling Muppet.    

These shoulder bag-slash-clutches, although not exactly an example of "from trash to treasure" (they're brand spanking new, thank you very much), reflect a kind of artfully messy kitchen sink (that garbage can of the plumbing world) aesthetic.  Taking their cues from festivals to gardens to fruit bowls near you, they let you carry -- and communicate -- a little bit of what's imperfect and exceptional about the everyday (not unlike -- funny connection -- movies).  After all, what better way to send a style message than in a good, old-fashioned envelope?    

I like to think that Oscar would give his stamp of approval.      

Book Report: I Hate Everyone . . . Starting With Me and Murder at the Academy Awards (both) by Joan Rivers

Joan Rivers is one crazy bitch.  Of course, as a "Fashion Police" devotee, I've always known this.  But it wasn't until I got between the pages of her latest book, I Hate Everyone . . . Starting With Me, that I realized the full extent of her relentlessly raucous wrath.  A polarizing figure if ever there was one, Rivers doesn't hold back, aiming her trademark snark at everyone from children to the elderly to voice the things that most of us are thinking but never say.  This doesn't mean that there aren't plenty of cringe-worthy, crossing-the-line passages.  But I decided to dismiss them, focusing instead on Rivers's take-no-prisoners tone and side-splitting humor.  Another reason I liked this book is that I frequently say that I "hate" things, even if to the tune of the fiance's mock-censorious, "Now, hate is a very strong word."  But like any self-respecting woman of extremes, I find it the best one with which to describe traffic, inclement weather, craft mishaps, unexpected prime time reruns, marred clothing, housework, slugs, technology, exercise, expired coupons, expired food, boring people, overbearing people, and people who hurt my feelings.  Needless to say, I gulped down Rivers's 242-page diatribe in a single sitting.

Her murder mystery, Murder at the Academy Awards, co-written by Jerrilyn Farmer, took two weeks longer to digest.  The best things about it are 1) the caricatures of Joan and her daughter Melissa on the cover, and 2) Rivers's snappy afterward, which was so amusing that it made me rethink my long-standing preference for fiction.  Still, despite this whodunit's slow start and boilerplate plot, it's fun to read because its stylish sleuth is Rivers's alter-ego, the fabulous and lunches-openly-with-her-plastic-surgeon Maxine Taylor.  Killers, paparazzi, and undercover rehab stints don't scare her, yet the sight of a slain starlet clad in a TJ Maxx knockoff sends her screaming.

Her E! network cohorts would be proud.

Etsy Favorites: Rock 'til You Drop

 Record Earring Holder, Retro Grandma

 Let the Music Play Digital Collage Sheet, Digital Perfection

 Hot Pink Music Note Bandage Skirt, Coyote Peyote

 Flight of the Conchords Hand-painted Shoes, Bacon Factory

 Toy Xylophone iPhone Case, iCase Sera Sera

 Carbon Fiber Treble Clef Pendant Charm, Hybrid Thread

Colorful Cleft Abstract Wall Sculpture, Diva Art

 DJ Painting, Universe's Apprentice

 Music Man Fleecie, Stuff by Kate

Clarinet Frog Print, Frog Fun

It's the rare person who doesn't love music.  Whether it's rock or reggae, classical or country, or metal or mainstream, chances are, there's a tune that sends your toes tapping.  So this week I'm featuring some of Etsy's greatest hits.  With a playlist of punky piano keys, trendy treble clefs, and even an Oscar-winning Conchord (that's you, Mr. Bret McKenzie), you're sure to find something to make your heart sing.

Etsy Favorites: Movie Magic

 Candy and Popcorn Necklace, Pretty Thingz

 The Notebook Charm Necklace, Holy Sheep

 Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Necklace, Sarah Crumpler's CH Gallery

 Dear Vincent Brooch, Tramps and Glams

 35 mm Film Earrings, Happy Factory

 Pirates of the Caribbean Decoupage Bangle, Ericosmicgirl

 Movie Time Resin Necklace, Girlybe

 Marilyn Brooch, Chaachi and Chaachi

 Mean Girls Regina George Earrings, Blue Velvet Heart

Vintage Movie Poster Bangle, Gorgeous Georgia

With the Oscars airing tomorrow night, I thought, why not center this week's Etsy Favorites around the silver screen?  I love watching the Oscars, although I seldom see most of the nominated movies, which tend to be of a dark and serious bent and therefore not on my radar.  But the drama and the dresses more than make up for that, and it was in their spirit that I unearthed these ten light-hearted (yes, even you, villainous Vincent), camera-ready pieces of jewelry.  Whether they celebrate concession stand favorites or iconic characters, they're sure to sprinkle a little star power your way.   

Movie Moment: The Fighter

Last Saturday the bf and I landed at the movies after having been out all day. We hadn't checked the show times beforehand (a circumstance alien to my unspontaneous soul) and were at the mercy of whatever was playing. We turned out to be just in time for The Fighter, which we were both interested in seeing. (The bf breathed a sigh of relief when I announced that we were an hour too early for No Strings Attached.)

You probably know all about the plot of The Fighter because it's been out a while and is nominated for several Academy Awards. America loves an underdog, and this based-on-a-true-story account of Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg), a working class down-on-his-luck boxer weighed down by his overbearing manager mother (Melissa Leo), once-legendary-boxer-turned crack-addict brother (Christian Bale), and his own perceived limitations, delivers. Enter the love of a good woman (Amy Adams), and Micky's world explodes, forcing him to question his family and himself, ultimately reconciling what's best about each to triumph over his most fearsome opponents.

The movie was dark and gritty, qualities that usually put me ill at ease. This time was no different, and at first I didn't like it. But by the second half, I'd changed my mind. It's a hard-hearted viewer who doesn't end up rooting for Micky.

Given my preference for lighter fare, I don't see too many Oscar-nominated movies and end up feeling left out watching the big ceremony. So, I was glad to have witnessed Melissa Leo's and Christian Bale's performances. (They're favored to win for Best Supporting Actress and Best Supporting Actor, respectively.) Both were outstanding, Melissa Leo as a chain-smoking, hard-bitten lioness viciously protective of her cubs, and Christian Bale as a tortured, talented, and desperate fallen hero.

Maybe I should watch gritty movies more often.