The ABCs of Accessories

 Pastel Stellar Speller Necklace

Top: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Skirt: Decree, JCPenney

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

 Pink and Green Stellar Speller Necklace

Blouse: Merona, Target

Sweater: DKNY, Macy's

Skirt: Candie's, Kohl's

Shoes: Unlisted, Marshalls

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Cloud Nine, Ocean City 

 Rainbow Stellar Speller Necklaces

Dress: Macy's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Journeys

Belt: Marshalls

Sunglasses: Cloud Nine, Ocean City

Scarf: Express

Black and White Stellar Speller Necklace

Dress: Eric and Lani, Macy's

Shoes: Venus

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Belt: B Fabulous

I stumbled upon these plastic alphabet beads and couldn't help but get all nostalgic.  If kiddie couture is the heart of kawaii, then letters are Lolita's linchpins.  Or something.  So I thought it would be fun to list accessories' greatest hits, the ABCs of accessories, if you will, acrostic-style, as told by the Tote Trove.

A is for adhesive.  Or, to be more precise, permanent adhesive glue.  I use oodles of it now that I'm doing things right and going the nontoxic route.  The less bad stuff in your glue, the less chance you have of a lasting bond.   Which is, interestingly, the opposite of the way things work in real relationships (hey, they don't call it toxic togetherness syndrome for nothing). 

C is for clothes, a. k. a. accessories' second-fiddle canvas.

C is for cabochons.  Because they're pretty and sound pretty cool.

E is for escape, the kind you make when blissfully beading, not listening to that unfortunate (yet still catchy) Rupert Holmes song.

S is for the sitcoms I watch while I make things.  This weekend it was eight back-to-back episodes of "Garfunkel & Oates."  And right now it's a rerun of "Modern Family" in which Phil, coincidentally, spouts off an acrostic poem about real estate.

S is for supplies, supplies, and more supplies.  And also for snacks.

O is for outlandish.  'Nuff said.

R is for rhinestones . . . and reruns (see S).

I is for island motifs worn in winter.

E is for embellishment, that essential element of style and (sometimes) story-telling.

S is for sequins.  Don't listen to what people say; they make everything better (although not as much as rhinestones).

So, accessories are pretty powerful.  So much so that I found myself maybe kind of wanting to buy a mixed lot of Bakelite jewelry as I read Susan Gloss's debut novel, Vintage.  Partly because you can't get bedbugs from plastic, but also because of the power.  As you know, I regularly commit hipster sacrilege by admitting that I don't really "get" vintage (on account of the "used" factor, not the style factor.  The style is usually tops.  And thankfully is often able to be replicated by your nearest big box store in never-before-worn polyester for less than it costs to fill your gas tank).  So it might seem a little odd that I picked up this book during a toilet paper run at Target.  But I liked the cover, which features a red-accessorized wedding dress, and I've never been one to pass up a tale about retail (as my many Shopaholic series references attest), no matter how gently used.   

Vintage is the story of Violet Turner, a vintage-worshiping, rockabilly style-rocking ex-waitress who flees her one-horse town and hard-drinking husband to fulfill her lifelong dream of opening a vintage boutique.  The cleverly coined Hourglass Vintage presides over a picturesque street in freewheeling Madison, Wisconsin, a city which is, apparently, the Portland-meets-Austin of the Midwest.  Violet is a vixen not to be messed with, and she has the phoenix tattoo to prove it.  So when she unexpectedly gets evicted, she immediately hatches a plan -- even if it means accepting the help of accidental intern and teen mom-to-be April and unhappy housewife and budding designer Amithi. Running away from your problems to start a store is a premise that probably appeals to most women.  It's plucky and gutsy and a little bit crazy, flirting fast and loose with "Why not?"  Still, if its irresistibility is what makes it fantastic, then it's the friendships between the three women that match its style with a little substance (sorry, but that one was bound to rear its well-coiffed head sooner or later).  Which is to say that they aren't instant book club buddies.  Their relationships grow more gradually, involving a good deal of guardedness on each other's part, never really (and I don't believe that I'm about to say this) blossoming even at the end.  April, for example, is incredibly pushy in trying to convince Violet to computerize her inventory instead of scribbling transactions in her beloved notebook.  Pregnant or not, I found her overbearing -- until Gloss explained that her controlling personality is a defense mechanism for dealing with her chaotic life (the unplanned pregnancy, as it turns out, is just one spoke in her wheelhouse of woe).  Violet eventually realizes this too, her soft-hearted nature emerging from beneath her tough outer shell.  

All in all, Vintage is a pretty pillbox hat of a story.  Gloss describes the Hourglass Vintage merchandise with equal parts nostalgia and glamour, charming even this staunch secondhand goods detractor.  Furthermore, she establishes the self-contained Violet as a formerly misunderstood teen queen instead of the usual high school outsider, making her quest for authenticity even more interesting.  

In addition to penning novels, Gloss also runs an Etsy vintage shop and writes a blog, making her a modern-day triple threat, hipster style.  Oh, and she's also a lawyer, a fact that comes across loud and clear in the sections about Violet's legal issues.  

That having been said, I'm off to troll Etsy for Bakelite.

Springing Back into Summer and Falling for Fall TV

 Great White Necklace

Tunic: Miken, Marshalls

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Olsenboye, JCPenney

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Uniquely Different, Etsy

Belt: JCPenney

Scarf: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Mister Mustache Necklace

Tunic: Miken, Marshalls

Bra top: Boscov's

Skirt: L'Amour by Nanette Lepore for JCPenney

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Nordstrom

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Fruits and Flowers Necklace

Tunic: Miken, Marshalls

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt (a dress!): Monteau, Marshalls

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Nine West, Boscov's

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

The first summery thing about this post is the two scenic pictures.  They're both of the north end of Brigantine, and I took them during a recent bicycle ride with the husband.  As you know, I normally refrain from outdoorsy activities.  But I was glad that I came along this time, as I'd never been to this part of the island in the six plus years I've lived here.  It's beautiful, kind of wild and hidden and marshy.  I can see why people like it, despite it bearing the brunt of most hurricanes' wrath.

The second summery thing about this post is the hot pink lace cover-up.  I know; I too was surprised to find that that's what it was when I found it at Marshalls some three years ago.  Somehow, it seems too fancy to toss over a bikini.  That's probably one of the reasons why I've never worn it.  But I wanted to change that, or at least do the next best thing by having Tammy (the Torso, that is, for those of you scratching your heads) wear it.  So I challenged myself to use it in three outfits.  The middle one is my favorite, even if it does kind of scream fashion don't at the VMAs.  

And now on to the good part, which is to say, the TV.  I don't know about you, but once Labor Day hits, I'm as excited about fall premier week as a cat in a yarn store.  There's nothing to beat fall's sneaky chill like the cozy glow that is the TV screen.  I like to think of it as the modern-day fireplace.  Or maybe I should say campfire, as that's the one with the stories.  Anyway, there's a lot of programming to choose from, so I'll just give (admittedly specious) shout-outs to the lineups I follow.  I'm something of a line-up lemming, tolerating shows that I'd otherwise skip simply because they're surrounded by some of my favorites.  Still, at the end of the day (or should I say week?) I end up enjoying them all on some level, taking the same even-when-it's-bad-it's-good approach to sitcoms that people take to pizza.  Hey, whether it's entertainment or eats, the more cheese the better.    

That having been said, Fox came out of the gate running the second week in September with the ever edgy "New Girl" and "The Mindy Project."  Family-friendly ABC reclaimed its Wednesday night reign, regaling us with old favorites like "The Middle" and "Modern Family," now bookending sophomore sitcom "The Goldbergs" and wrapping up with the brand-new "Blackish," all contriving to create a downy cushion for the last-act drama of "Nashville"(which is not a sitcom, but pretty soft as dramas go, making it a-okay in my [song] book.)  Then the following Tuesday ABC introduced "Selfie" and "Manhattan Love Story," serving up stories for singles.  In the CBS camp, "The Big Bang Theory" found its way once again back to Mondays, at least until late October when it joins two of Chuck Lorre's other offspring, "Two and a Half Men" and "Mom" ("Mike and Molly" will return mid-season).  But it's NBC that remains the most barren, with the final season of "Parks and Recreation" yet to debut while newbies "Bad Judge" and "A to Z" play out as sweetly acerbic appetizers.      

Whew, that was more than a mouthful.  Which means that there's just enough room to cram in some eating (cheddar choked or whole grain healthy?  I'll never tell) before tonight's two-hour sitcom block begins.

New TV (Otherwise Known as Fall's Consolation Prize)

Last week marked the beginning of the 2011-2012 TV season, and with it my deliverance from the surfeit of sitcom reruns and played-out movies that buzzed on my TV like so much white noise this summer.  As always, my menu of mainstays, including The Middle, Modern Family, Community, and The Office, was sprinkled with fresh new selections.  Just as when I'm presented with an updated restaurant menu, I couldn't help but wonder which newbies would become the new mac and cheese, i.e., flavorful, fulfilling, and always a treat, and which would suffer the fate of concoctions made unpalatable by too many or too few ingredients.  Here's my take on three of the series debuts I sampled (in reverse chronological order):

Show: Pan Am
Network: ABC
Time: Sunday, 10:00 pm EST

Despite the scuttlebutt that it was just a Mad Men knock-off, I had high hopes for Pan Am (pun intended).  Like lots of people, I like a good period piece.  Stories set in iconic eras can't help but be shrouded in romance, and the admittedly fluffy ABC capitalizes on this phenomenon in its drama showcasing stewardesses of the early 1960s.  To be honest, it was slow going at first.  The plot centers around four women -- each a trailblazer of sorts -- which means that there was a bit of back-story to relay.  Even so, Pan Am has all the hallmarks of a best-selling saga and will probably become more engrossing as the season unfolds.

Show: Whitney
Network: NBC
Time: Thursday, 9:30 pm EST

NBC is known for sitcoms that probe beneath life's underbelly.  Whitney, starring comedian Whitney Cummings, fits right in as the story of a cohabiting, thirty-something couple contemplating marriage.  Albeit gentler than the other social commentary-spouting shows in NBC's Thursday night lineup (Community, Parks and Recreation, and The Office), Whitney delivers some trenchant one-liners about love and relationships.  Unfortunately, most of them were in the commercials, which somewhat diluted their appeal.  Nevertheless, pilots are often iffy, so I remain optimistic.

Show: New Girl

Network: FOX

Time: Tuesday, 9:00 pm EST

New Girl is just the sort of off-beat show you'd expect to see on the network that brought us The Simpsons.  Starring queen of quirk Zooey Deschanel, it centers around Jess, a newly single teacher who finds herself living with three guys she met on Craigslist.  Fashion-challenged and in the habit of bursting into song, Jess catapults over Deschanel's resident territory of the unusual headlong into the land of just plain odd.  Indeed, her actions are often cringeworthy, particularly when she's hurling herself at prospective suitors.  Still, her eccentricities are born of a genuineness that render her as endearing and vulnerable.

* * * *

Criticisms aside, I'll continue watching all of these shows.  Sweet, salty, or tangy, stories are my favorite snack.

Movie Moment: Bad Teacher

The premise of Bad Teacher is pretty much encapsulated by its title. It's a story about a (very) bad teacher (Cameron Diaz), Elizabeth Halsey. She shows videos instead of teaching, smokes pot in the school gym and parking lot, dresses provocatively, pelts her students with dodge balls (not cool, coming from a former dodge ball victim), and misappropriates money from the school car wash to use toward her boob job. Exposed as a gold digger by her former fiance, Elizabeth is forced to move into a low-rent apartment with a biker she found on Craig's List ("Modern Family's" Eric Stonestreet). Nevertheless, things seem to be looking up when 1) trust fund-toting substitute teacher Scott Delacorte (Justin Timberlake) joins the staff and 2) her lone friend Lynn ("The Office's" Phyllis Smith) tells her that she can earn a huge cash bonus if her class scores well enough on a state standardized test.

As a person and teacher, Elizabeth is just awful. Even worse than her negligence is her out-and-out meanness. (She tells a student that her mother's cookies suck and initially refuses to date Russell Gettis [Jason Segal] because he's a lowly gym teacher.) And yet, it's difficult to completely hate her. She's so outrageous that she's entertaining. Plus, her arch enemy and fellow teacher Amy Squirrel (Lucy Punch) is such an annoying goody two shoes that rooting for Elizabeth seems almost okay.

At first glance, it seems odd that the writers, the director, whomever, chose to create an educator so over-the-top inappropriate that she gets away with everything and has nearly no redeeming qualities. (I say "nearly" because she does exhibit a few flashes of insight when she administers tough-love advice to a couple of students, an instance that resurfaces with deus ex machina abruptness at the movie's ending.) Yet upon closer inspection, it's clear that the creators aren't slamming the American education system or implying that our schools are rife with Ms. Halsey clones. Rather, Bad Teacher is a satire on education's many critics, a sort of cleverly crafted rebuttal intended to defend teachers. (As in, surely there's no teacher out there as bad as Ms. Halsey!)

Then again, maybe I'm giving everyone too much credit and it was just meant to be a sensational movie designed to rake in lots of money. (The movie boasts more than a few gross-out moments to vouch for that.)

Heavy issues aside, Bad Teacher is entertaining, largely owing to its cavalcade of teacher's lounge caricatures. John Michael Higgins makes a few appearances as the clueless and dolphin-obsessed Principal Snur, and Phyllis Smith's Lynn is just so . . . Phyllis. (If you watch "The Office," then you know what I mean.) Timberlake's Scott is a preppy dweeb who matches love interest Ms. Squirrel corny catchphrase for corny catchphrase. It's hilarious to watch Russell quietly mock him, which he does at every opportunity in an attempt to win Elizabeth's affections. As for Russell, he loves teaching but shares Elizabeth's irreverence for rules and her disgust for phonies. Therein lies their burgeoning bond.

Heart and Humor Meet in (ABC's) The Middle

Last fall, when the new sitcom The Middle was introduced to ABC's Wednesday night line-up, I didn't like it at all. The show centered around the Hecks, a middle-class, middle American family planted firmly and unpretentiously in Indiana. You had Mike, the straight-talking quarry manager dad (Scrubs's Neil Flynn); Frankie, a frazzled used car saleswoman-slash-supermom (Patricia Heaton, Everybody Loves Raymond); Axl, their popular football playing teenage son; Sue, their awkward preteen daughter who gets cut from every team she tries out for; and Brick, their brilliant but socially hopeless second grader. Weekly plots focused on all the icky little details of work and home life: paying bills on time, shopping for suspect meat at the discount grocery store, getting the kids to do their homework, squeezing in family dinners, shopping for anniversary present carpet remnants, trying not to be late for work, etc. To be honest, it depressed me. So I stopped watching, clicking over to the vapid but more cheerful (and now cancelled) Gary Unmarried on CBS until it was time for the upper middle-class glamor of Modern Family to dazzle me as far away from reality as was possible.

Things went on like this until mid-season last year when I decided to give The Middle another chance. And you know what? I started to feel ashamed of my prematurely snobby dismissal. I started to, well, like it. Because behind all the tedium, the Hecks had something that most sitcom families didn't: heart. Their struggles became more funny than bleak, probably because they rang true. I especially liked Brick, endeared by his kooky, too-cerebral-for-his-own-good differentness and the way he repeated the things he said out loud in whispers. Before long, The Middle had eclipsed Modern Family for the top spot in my Wednesday night TV-viewing affections.

I still watch and enjoy Modern Family. But sometimes its big, perfect houses seem kind of cold compared to the Hecks's lived-in rancher with the unfinished basement and lime green living room. Similarly, "Modern Family's" three couples seem to be strained by tensions that remain unresolved even after plots are sewn up. Although Mike and Frankie Heck squabble over the usual who's-going-to-drive-the-kids-to-practice sort of issues, they never seem to resent each other as lingeringly as Phil and Claire Dunphy. Interestingly, Claire (Julie Bowen) sometimes reminds me of the high-strung stay-at-home mom that Heaton used to play on Raymond. Although considerably poorer and more heavily burdened, Heaton's character on The Middle appears happier and more grounded. Of course, that could just be because her mother-in-law isn't lurking across the street . . .

This and That

I don't know how many of you watch ABC's Modern Family Wednesday nights. I ask because last week's episode included a funny craft-related element. The main family was giving their son a birthday party, and the dad wanted it to be over the top, with a reptile petting zoo, moon bounce, etc., but the mom thought it would be fun to have an arts and crafts station. In particular, she wanted to have the kids make comb cases, like she did at her friend's party as a kid. Everyone kind of laughed at her, making jokes about her being stuck in the 1950s, but he set up her little table anyway -- and end up decorating comb cases by herself. Feeling bad for her, her husband told her that her hair looked nice -- and she said thanks, she'd been combing it all day. Ha ha. As an artist trying to market handmade fashion in a modern world, I found this especially funny. And true.

This has nothing to do with crafting, but on my way home from work yesterday I saw a billboard announcing Air Supply at Bally's on Valentine's Day. Based on their picture alone, I'd heed the Bally employees' strike cry: "Just don't go."