Sugar Rush Gush: Props for Pops

Fabulous Felt All Sorts of Sweet Barrette

Top: Material Girl, Macy's

Camisole; So, Kohl's

Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's

Shoes: Venus

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Sunglasses: Michaels

There are all sorts of fathers out there, and song lyrics are rife with rhymes about bad dads.  Madonna's "Papa Don't Preach," Everclear's "Father of Mine," and Harry Chapin's "Cats in the Cradle" spin stories of subpar patriarchs -- not to mention anything by Papa Roach or Puff Daddy.  That's why it's nice when you have a dad worth singing (a good song) about.  Fortunate to be among this number, I'm celebrating Father's Day with my father's favorite candy in this Fabulous Felt All Sorts of Sweet Barrette.  Speckled with bright stripes and circles, it's bursting with good times and the spirit of summer -- even if the black bits symbolize the dreaded (to me) licorice.  Which makes it just the right dad's day dessert, all the colors of the confectionery masking the unpleasantness.  So, to every dad who ever helped make an algebra test, playground meanie, or just plain bad day go away, enjoy the treat of your choice, safe in the knowledge that you are the rainbow.

That having been said, I can't be held responsible for runs on Lucky Charms, rainbow sherbet, or old-timey lollipops.           

Throwback Thursday on a Tuesday: Still Charmed by the 1980s

Eye on Kawaii Charm Necklace

Dress: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Bag: Fred Flare

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop

Eighties Explosion Charm Necklace

Dress: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Betsey Johnson, ROSS

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Summer Stunner Purse Charm

Dress: O'Neill, Macy's

Top: Bongo, Sears

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, DSW

Bag: Bueno, Marshalls

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop

Just about every post I write is, on some level, a love letter to the decade of Bubble Tape, fanny packs, and Weird Al Yankovic.  But this week's post pays homage to a very specific piece of 1980s nostalgia.  And that piece is a bunch of little pieces collectively and fondly known as Flash Charms.  If you grew up in the 1980s or raised kids in the 1980s, then chances are you're familiar with these colorful miniatures of everyday items such as cars, soda bottles, daisies, whistles, hair dryers, and even trash cans.  And if you've visited Michaels since December, then you know that they're back!  I did a double take when I saw them, my heart beating faster at the sight of all those cheerful charms from my childhood.  For the grammar school set, receiving them was a right of passage; once you had graduated from (the inexplicably more dangerous) pop beads to Flash Charms, you knew that you'd made it (and also, that you could be trusted with Play-Doh).  Because gosh darn it all, they were mesmerizing.  An ode to the era of excess, theirs was (and is) an aesthetic evocative of Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Rainbow Brite all rolled into one.  Thirty years later, they've eclipsed other eighties accessories, outranking scrunchies, slap bracelets, and bowlers to prove that they're much more than just a flash in the pan -- the fried egg in the red skillet charm in necklace two notwithstanding.  Indeed, they've earned their place in the retro revival fashion canon, right beside back-in-the-day darlings Strawberry Shortcake and My Little Pony.  If toys had high school reunions, then Cake and Pony would be the lipo'ed and Botoxed former prom queens to Flash's still fresh-faced and wide-eyed girl next door (admittedly, a girl next door perpetually dressed for Halloween, but a girl next door nonetheless).  Still, even Flash has evolved a little, namely in the form of the googly eyes that peer so playfully out of her food-themed personas (I'm looking at you, necklace one).  Which is to say that time has only improved her weird beauty, allowing her to age gracefully and goofily, no eye lift necessary.  

I, for one, am game to go to this shindig (or reunion or child's birthday party or whatever it is), name tag firmly slapped against my pink polyester leopard-print blouse.  Because grown up or not, I can't resist the craftopia that is the Flash Charms endcap display, especially as it shamelessly courts my collector's craving.  Taking home an absurdly pink potty (and a turquoise elephant and a yellow umbrella . . . ) puts a spring in my step more powerful than any new pair of pumps.  At $1.99 each, Flash Charms are blissfully affordable, making them the ideal pick-me-up on a gray day.  After all, what says "hang in there" more loudly than a passel of dangling, fluorescent plastic?  Almost five months in, my spoils speak for themselves.

Now, if only the good people of Galoob would bring back Sweet Secrets . . .

Hello, Dolly: Dressing for the Decades

In my world, paper dolls are having a moment.  First there were those holiday horses, and now I have a troop of twentieth (and some twenty-first!) century trendsetters, which I also received as a gift (hey, even I don't buy myself paper dolls).  I have another paper doll book somewhere (it may be international-themed), about which I'll happily blog should it ever surface.  But for now it's all about the styles of the times and -- ahem -- the timeless styles.

Flipping through the glossy pages of Sticker Fashionista Vintage Style, I was hard-pressed to pick my favorite fashion era.  Was I most drawn to the prim and pretty parasols of the early 1900s, or was the structured, starlet-inspired glamour of the 1940s more of my thing?  Then there were the mod and boho silhouettes of the 1960s and the outrageous rock opera opulence of the 1980s.  At first, I was tempted to say, the farther back the better; give me a time when women were women and there was no such thing as too much lace.  Yet as much as I loved the idea of an epoch in which wearing a dress was an everyday occurrence, I couldn't deny that turn-of-the-century style was a little constricting (and I don't just mean the corsets).  Back then, women didn't have a whole lot of wiggle room in terms of colors, patterns, embellishments, and accessories - not to mention footwear (we've all seen pictures of those horrid buckled booties).  And let's not forget that to be too showy was to risk being regarded as (at best) racy and (at worst) as a lady of the night.  This sort of straight and narrow sartorial approach seemed to rule the runways (and walkways) until the 1960s, that shining beacon of anything goes.  That was when things really took off with tie-dye and feathers and psychedelic patterns, go-go and flower child aesthetics running amok in different directions.  Still, my clotheshorse heart belongs to the 1980s, an inevitability I blame on Jem and Madonna and Prince.  The ruffly, one-shouldered, white-and-black polka dot dress pictured above gets my vote for top frock, even if I did dilute its power by teaming it with that Lady Gaga-inspired cherry headband filched from the 2000s section.

Speaking of which, a very cool part of Vintage Style is its last couple of pages, in which you're invited to create the looks of today by mixing and matching pieces from the 100+ years worth on offer in the preceding pages.  I didn't photograph my efforts because they weren't all that great, an outcome that I wholeheartedly attribute to the slim pickings that remained by the time I got to the end of the book (that's my story, and I'm sticking to it).  But the premise got me thinking about how weird it is that you can't pin down the trends of the times when you're actually in them.  When I was a preteen watching everyone run around in sunflower-print slip dresses, denim vests, flannel shirts, and overalls, I didn't think, they're part of a minimalist neo-hippie fashion movement that resulted in response to the excess of the 1980s.  I just thought, those are the cool kids, and that's what they wear.  (I, on the other hand, was still rocking stretch pants and oversized sweaters like the ones favored by the mom on "The Goldbergs," as well as some pretty rad large-and-in-charge hair accessories from Claire's Boutique.  I still think about my old resin strawberry-shaped clip, which was so big that it sometimes fell off my head.  I wish I still had it, in no small part because I have a lot more hair now.)

I wonder which of today's wardrobe staples will have made their mark by the time we're looking at them through the lens of the future.  More importantly, I wonder what we'll be wearing while we're laughing at them. 

On Mullets and Typewriters

Sure Bet Sherbet Rhinestone Necklace

Tunic: Decree, JCPenney
Bra top: Boscov's
Jeans: Candie's, Kohl's
Shoes: City Streets, JCPenney
Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Strawberry Peach Rhinestone Necklace

Dress: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bra top: Boscov's

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's 

Blouse: Jessica Simpson, Boscov's

Bra top: Delia's

Jeans: Candie's, Kohl's

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Nine West, Boscov's

Raspberry Mint Rhinestone Necklace

Jacket: Bongo, Sears

Camisole: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Marshalls

Shoes: Dolce by Mojo Moxy, Shoe Dept.

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Bead stock-up spree

They're a dynamic duo if ever I saw one - united in the clumsy, cringe-worthy, and clackety (for want of a better last "c" word descriptor) nature of their awfulness.  Nevertheless, I can't take full credit for the connection between these two 1980s (dare I say) icons.  That honor goes to the author of the 1986 romance novel I'm currently reading (or, more appropriately, to her ghostwriter).  Two professional eighties women, clawing their way to the top of the corporate ladder "Working Girl" style with nothing but impossibly inefficient typewriters and smoldering studs to stop them.  (It's a romance novel, people, not a feminist manifesto.)  Here's the line about the mullet:

"She wore it [her hair] long enough in the back to be pinned up in a chignon when she wished, and short enough on the top and sides so that she could style it from fussy to practical as the occasion, and her whim, demanded."

Notice that the word "mullet" is never actually mentioned.  But the telltale business in the front, party in the back description gives this ever-suspect style away.  Given their taste for trends, these corporate cuties may have painted the town in one of the 1980s-inspired looks featured here.  It was an era, after all, that never met a rhinestone or a pairing of pastels and neons that it didn't like.  (I realize that I talk about 1980s style a lot, so much so that I might as well call this blog My Crazy Eighties Dress Up Diary, or, for something snappier, Romancing the Rhinestone.)     

I'd be remiss without addressing the whole visible bra trend that's "working it" in these outfits.  Although it caught on sometime last summer, it wasn't a look that I felt the need to pursue until now.  Not that I would ever sport the plunging tunic and bandeau combo in the first ensemble.  That sort of no-holds-barred raciness is best left to runways and rockers.  But it makes for a nice dramatic visual, as well as a fitting foil for the more demure but still edgy striped dress and bra top team in ensemble number two.  Kind of like Madonna meets Debbie Gibson.  You know.  Before Ms. Gibson  became a girl gone wild.  

Etsy Favorites: Eighties Edge

 I Made You a Mix Tape Tote, Maux Faux

 Bold 1980s Chevorn Earrings, Shop Michelle Rose

 80s Party Legwarmers in Neon Stripes, Mademoiselle Mermaid

 I Heart Eighties Dress, Morose Melon Head

Hot Flash Fabric Belt, Fashionably Lauren

It's colorful.  It's over the top.  It's the age of excess (and of INXS).  It's the 1980s, my favorite fashion decade and the focus of this week's Etsy Favorites post.  I thought I'd find lots of cool stuff to feature in my Etsy search, but the pickings turned out to be slim.  Then again, maybe that's because my criteria were strict, i.e., no shoulder pads please!  So I was especially excited when these party pretties popped out of the otherwise dull handmade stratosphere.  Just looking at them makes me want to blast "Material Girl" and down some Pop Rocks.  Sound like a good time?  Then pile on the bangles and check out what else these designers have in store!

We Are Living in a Material World and I Am a Material Girl

When Madonna and daughter Lourdes launched their Material Girl juniors clothing line to much fanfare at Macy's last August, I thought, oh, now that's silly. Less than a year later my wardrobe has been invaded by the collection, and I take umbrage when I hear Macy's salesgirls surreptitiously snickering about "those tacky Madonna clothes" as I browse. (Just this past Saturday I purchased the hot pink and black lace top [just $7!] from a cashier who eyed it dubiously before deeming it "concert wear".) In addition to being edgy, fun, and inexpensive, the pieces are well-cut and flattering, a must for every clotheshorse with a taste for the 1980s. Makes you want to get into the groove, doesn't it?