My Fair Ladies: From Headgear to Hat Head

Fabulous Felt Brooch Beauties

Jacket: Mossimo, Target

Skirt: XOXO, Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Nordstrom

Sunglasses: JCPenney

I'm not saying that these felt fashionistas were sporting orthodontic metal messes before I thoughtfully bequeathed them with elegant hats.  That would be silly.  Because they were being at one with my felt pile, an amorphous beast so big that I sometimes wonder if other, smaller beasts make their home in its considerable and cozy folds (I'm talking to you, garter snake).  I'm just saying that it's inspiring when someone or something goes from being icky to it-girl, especially when the it-girl side isn't too cool to reveal a little icky.  Teen nightmare-slash-Eliza-Doolittle-comparisons aside, there's something proper and polished about these pretties, even the tie-dyed hippie grandmas with their you-don't-own-me,-establishment silver tresses.  But as usual, I strive to tone down the pretentious.  Which is why I chucked this post's working title -- My Fair Ladies: A Milliner's Muse.  

I'm excited to finally unveil these brooches, partly because they took so long to finish.  In the spirit of speed (and sanity, photography sometimes being the opposite of therapeutic), I refrained from snapping twenty-seven outfit shots, instead settling on just this one: Tammy and her Amazing Technicolor Meme Coat (the meme being that both fur and felt have a face.  Drop in next week to see what I do with a 1940s muskrat stole!  Not to mention assorted other critters.  That felt pile beast may get its big break yet. . . ).  Making these brooches was truly a pleasure.  I loved mixing colors and patterns, tying everything together with glam cat's eye sunglasses and pouty red lips.  I also got a kick out of naming each lady, choosing just the right two-syllable moniker to portray the kind of flesh-and-blood woman she might represent.  I imagine that shoe company copywriters feel the same when they call pumps and sandals things like Kendall and Kelsey and Kendra.  Laugh if you must, but I've always thought that giving shoes such feminine names is a genius sales technique.  How many orthotic-clad Myrtles have warily picked up a pair of strappy stilettos only to glance at the side of the box and think, "Roxanne, huh?  Screw the ladies' auxiliary banquet, I'm wearing these babies to church!"    

Yes, we salute you, hats, coats, and other assorted outerwear.  As the mercury plummets this winter, we'll need you more than ever.  Not just your toasty if itchy wool, but the panache that you so cleverly ooze even as you camouflage our well-thought-out outfits.  Because if there's anything a clotheshorse hates more than frostbite, it's facing the world bundled up like Aunt Myrtle.  

An Eraser Chaser and a Story With Heart

 Sweet Snack Star Necklace

Top: Hollister, Marshalls

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Scarf: Express

 Strawberry Snack Star Necklace

Tank: Candie's, Kohl's

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt: H&M

Shoes: Betseyville, JCPenney

Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's

Cherry scarf: A.C. Moore

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Polka dot scarf: Wet Seal

Super Size Snack Star Necklace

Jacket: Material Girl, Macy's

Tank: Mossimo, Target

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Marshalls

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

They say there's nothing new under the sun, and once in a while, they're right.  Years ago, I noticed fellow Etsians selling jewelry made from those kooky Japanese puzzle erasers.  Frilly desserts, fast food, fruits, and more dangled from necklaces and winked from rings, and I, for one, was charmed. Having amassed my own collection of the offbeat office supplies, I started making my own jewelry.  But because I hadn't come up with the idea, I didn't feel right about selling the pieces.  I was so staunch in this view that I even blogged about it.  Then last month I was trolling through my supplies, dedicated to my new-found mission of using up what I had, when I discovered a whole box of the things.  "I should start making stuff with these again," I thought. I picked out the cutest ones and got to work gluing the puzzle pieces together, coating them with clear nail polish, and spearing each with an eye pin and jump ring. The process was tedious but satisfying, and I felt nearly giddy as I transformed the formerly dead weight into wearable whimsy (because really, if whimsy isn't wearable, then what good is it?).  Stringing them up with star-shaped pony beads only ignited my infatuation, and when I finished I wondered if it would really be so bad if I posted them in my shop.  After all, plenty of Etsians made eraser jewelry, just as plenty of Etsians strung beads.  Talking myself out of doing the same suddenly seemed kind of silly.  So up they went, right alongside my felt and collages and everyday beads, just another curiosity in my everything-but-the-kitchen-sink setup.

Jewelry crafts are a little like love stories, which is to say, a dime a dozen yet still singular from each other.  I recently read such a romance, Me Before You, by Jojo Moyes.  This British charmer introduces us to Louisa Clark, an ordinary girl in extraordinary clothing who becomes a caretaker to a quadriplegic, the once powerful and (still) wealthy Will Traynor.  A little bit Beauty and the Beast, a little bit My Fair Lady, and a little bit anything by Nicholas Sparks, Me Before You manages to emerge as a story that stands out from its influences.  At once workaday and full of wonder, it's much like Louisa herself, refreshingly realistic even in the thick of the most trying scenes.  I immediately thought, "Oh, this would make a great movie."  I pictured a gray-skied indie flick sprigged with sweeping countryside and classic British class drama, as gently Gothic and wry as a witty old biddy in a black wedding hat.  Sure enough, when I finished reading, I saw that it was bound for the big screen, in August 2015.  My imagination started reeling, casting James Franco as Will (on account of his snarky smarts and ability to walk the line between deep and douchey) and Zooey Deschanel as Louisa (on account of her unassuming otherness, childlike candor, and quirky clothes), at least until I learned that the cast was entirely British.  Far more sensible, I thought, quickly regrouping, to keep that thread of authenticity throbbing.  I'm not going to say much more about the story, except that it's at the same time predictable and revelatory, true to its contradictions until the last page.  It -- and surely, you must have known that I was going to say something like this -- makes you think about the meaning of life, about the paradox of fate and free will and our part in it all.  That's the thing about books; they force you to hit pause amid life's chaos, trying to teach you something that you can use when you're plunged into the chaos again.

I think all of this will be well worth the price of admission next summer.  Still, it would've been nice to learn life lessons through the lens of James Franco.  Even if he was in Planet of the Apes.

Movie Moment: Crazy Stupid Love

Nine times out of ten, the trailers spoil the movie. Yet when I went to see Crazy Stupid Love I was surprised to find that it offered more story and more layers than the previews had promised. Part romantic comedy, part drama, Crazy Stupid Love centers around Cal Weaver (Steve Carell), a nice-guy insurance salesman who's just been dumped by his wife (Julianne Moore). Depressed and alone, he starts haunting bars and spouting his sad story to anyone who will listen. Enter gorgeous, confident trust fund case Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling). Taking pity on Cal and his lack of game, Jacob revamps Cal's wardrobe, brings him to a salon, and shows him how to chat up women in a My Fair Lady-style transformation. (Well, if My Fair Lady were a bromance.)

But then Jacob meets Hannah (Emma Stone), the "game changer." Just jilted by her dweeby lawyer boyfriend (Josh Grobin), a guy whose only charm was his security, Hannah sets out to do something reckless only to soften Jacob with the allure of her naivete.

Had things ended here, this would've been a different kind of movie. A more surface kind of movie. But Love isn't about easy hookups or black and white relationships that can be saved on the strength of grand gestures. It's about the gray areas and the complications and the parts that get left in between.

If I say too much I'll spoil it, but this cast of characters, which includes Marisa Tomei and Kevin Bacon, is unexpectedly intertwined, creating plot twists that are not only entertaining but that deepen the story. And although the ending is marked by a grand gesture, it's more a culmination of the many false starts that came before it than an out-of-the-blue deus ex machina.

Tender and thought-provoking, Crazy Stupid Love is about all the stuff we have to go through to find and keep our soul mates. Yet it's spiked with just enough humor to prevent it from taking itself too seriously.

Movie Moment: Just Go With It

The bf and I finally made it to see Just Go with It last night. Full of color, sunshine (thank you, Hawaii), and Adam Sandler humor, it was the fun, light-hearted romantic comedy I'd expected. I think the bf may have liked it even more than I did, if his bouts of laughter were any indicator.

For those of you who haven't read my other movie reviews, I'm known as a bit of a spoiler. So, SPOILER ALERT. For those of you who already knew that, I apologize for the interruption. Now that that's out of the way:

The movie begins with a flashback of Danny's (Sandler's) wedding day. Big-haired and big-nosed, Danny overhears his bride-to-be cackling about what a loser he is to her bridesmaids. We can only assume that he jilted her because the next scene features Danny, still wearing his tux and wedding ring, sitting alone at a bar when the "it girl" of the night approaches him. He tells her his hard luck story and they leave together, to the horror of all the other guys who've been chasing her. Emboldened by this fluke, Danny continues wearing his wedding ring to lure younger women into one night stands. Despite this sleazy behavior, you can't help but see Danny as a wounded nerd in shark's clothing. (I almost said wounded sheep but thought better of it considering that particular animal's role later in the movie. I won't go into it, leaving you at least one suprise.)

Fast forward to present-day Danny. A wealthy forty-something plastic surgeon, he's shed his enormous nose but not his philandering. The most constant woman in his life is his salt-of-the-earth assistant Katherine (Jennifer Aniston), an unassumingly pretty divorcee with two kids. Smart and no-nonsense, she has no qualms about chiding her boss for his womanizing ways, illustrating the easy camaraderie between them.

But the story doesn't get rolling until Danny meets Palmer (Brooklyn Decker), a blond bombshell schoolteacher who demands to meet his soon-to-be ex-wife before beginning a relationship with him. That's right. Palmer doesn't find out about Danny's fake wedding ring until after they hook up, and unlike the women before her, she's less than charmed. Danny turns to Katherine for advice, and she helps him hatch a scheme in which she plays his future ex-wife. In true My Fair Lady fashion, the glasses come off, the shopping begins, and Katherine shows up for lunch with Danny and Palmer exuding Aniston's easy glamour.

Despite a comedy of errors, the meeting is a success. The farce should end there but doesn't on account of Katherine taking a call from one of her kids. Promoted from soon-to-be-swinging-single to soon-to-be-single-dad, Danny finds himself bound for Hawaii with Palmer, Katherine, the kids, and his odd cousin Eddie (the ever-creepy Nick Swardson) - all because Katherine's son complains that Danny never took him there to swim with the dolphins. I always think movies are better when the characters go on vacation. Well, funny movies in which the hilarity can be heightened by unfamiliar luxury surroundings. (Serious movies not so much. In those, foreign locales are often prime sites for characters to be killed. Or cheat on their spouses. Or have very unfunny life-changing revelations.) Just Go with It is no different, brimming with pina colada-fueled catastrophes. Highlighting the hijinks are Nicole Kidman, who plays Devlin, Katherine's college arch enemy, and Dave Matthews, who serves as her equally annoying husband. Determined to impress Devlin, Katherine introduces herself as Danny's wife instead of his assistant. This, of course, complicates the whole ex-wife story created for Palmer's benefit while solidifying Katherine's relationship with Danny. Simultaneously masquerading as his almost ex-wife and current happily married wife undeniably draws her closer to him, which as any romantic comedy fan knows, is ultimately what she wants. But she doesn't come off as conniving. Katherine's simply known Danny a long time, and they have a comfy rapport that's increasingly shown to be chemistry.

I think you probably know how this one ends up.

The critics were really hard on Just Go with It. But then, aren't they hard on everything? In this case the main targets were bathroom humor, manipulative characters, and lazy scripting. One almost-kind reviewer even went as far as to say "Oscar material it isn't." I think we already knew that. And honestly, who cares? After a week on the clock people don't want to solve life's problems. They want to laugh and see happy endings.