Bohemian Barbie Jumps for Joy

 Funky Feather Bunch Barrette

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Gifted

Scarf: The Tote Trove, repurposed from We Love Colors

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Southwest Sandy Necklace

Sweater: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Jeans: Mudd, Kohl's

Shoes: Madden Girl, Macy's

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Jacket: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Un-mellow Yellow Necklace

Top: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Skirt: Lily Rose, Kohl's

Shoes: City Streets, JCPenney

Bag: Marshalls

Coat: Worthington, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

 Sweet Treats Necklace

Sweater: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Jeans: Mudd, Kohl's

Shoes: Qupid, DSW

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Bohemian Barbie is what I should call about seventy-five percent of my posts.  Aztec and animal prints, feathers, denim, and sun-ripened rainbows strung together by bright beads conspire to look like they tumbled out of the nearest caravan (and I don't mean the one made by Chevy).  Yet despite her plethora of personas, I can't say that I recall Barbie ever embodying this fashion flavor.  Maybe it's not glam enough, or maybe it's too political a style statement.  All I know is, if I were a kid I'd be delighted, right down to the inflatable cactus and tinsel-bright tumbleweed accessories that would accompany the fringed-caftan-draped blonde one camped out in the pink cardboard box.  I have faith in her and think she can rough it (see below, where she takes on the wilderness, albeit red carpet-ready).  Because we girls can do anything, right Barbie?

I like to think that Joy Mangano, the inspiration for David O. Russell's Joy starring Jennifer Lawrence, would agree.  In the beginning of the movie, we see young Joy crafting a white paper fantasy world, talking about her dream of one day making wonderful things for everyone everywhere.  Fast forward some twenty years later to a dead-end job, a divorce, a mortgage, and a crazy extended family living under her roof. To say the least, things haven't turned out the way Joy thought they would.  One day she seems to be at rock bottom, using an old-school mop to clean up some red wine her ex-husband spilled on the precious teak deck of her dad's (Robert de Niro's) girlfriend's (Isabella Rossellini's) sailboat.  She gets shards of glass in her hands -- but she also gets a brainstorm.  What if she'd been able to use a mop that she didn't need to wring out manually?  Now, I know that mops aren't all that exciting.  And I myself almost never use one.  But Joy's been through so much -- she's the poster child for the downtrodden woman -- and her austere yet sincere enthusiasm is nothing short of infectious.  (Besides, her plight did bring me back to the time I had to use a nasty old, non-self-ringing mop during my stint at the local CVS.  And rest assured, it was disgusting.)  So, I was amped for Joy and her revolutionary household helper. Re-energized by her idea, Joy holes up in her daughter's bedroom, using crayons to design the Miracle Mop, an uber-absorbent device made up of a lightweight plastic rod and a detachable head that can be tossed into the washing machine.  She builds a prototype and is off and running.  Sort of.  It becomes clear that Joy's journey will be anything but smooth as she embarks, Cinderella-style, on a fool's errand mission to sell her product despite endless obstacles from rival inventors, QVC executives (most notably a hard-nosed but open-minded Bradley Cooper), lawyers, and her own family.  Throughout it all, the mop emerges as an all-encompassing symbol, coming to mean second chances (getting a clean slate), class mobility (from scrubbing the floors to running the show), feminism (controlling the mop -- and indeed, the domestic messes -- that once controlled you) and yes, a little magic (cue those dancing broomsticks from Fantasia because by this time we're in need of some silly).  As a bonus, Susan Lucci appears as a big-haired fictional soap star seen through only the lens of Joy's mom's TV, and Melissa Rivers is an uncannily convincing Joan Rivers selling jewelry on QVC.  Still, at the heart of this film is the business of wonder, of the fine, intangible, insistent things that work to help you get it done.  It's a classic underdog, American dream kind of story, and Lawrence shines as the heroine who never stops kicking -- even if it means maybe risking her glass slipper.  

Who knows?  Maybe someday Mattel will come up with a Joy Mangano Barbie, complete with snazzy suit and pink -- no, rainbow -- glittery mop.  Put in your bids now, QVC.

Movie Moment: Silver Linings Playbook

I didn't think I was going to like Silver Linings Playbook.  But I always go to the movies on my birthday, and that was the only one out that I hadn't seen (or would consider seeing).  Also, I'd already gotten the idea to photograph my silver clothes and accessories to post with the review, and I wasn't about to abandon that pipe dream.

Football and ballroom dancing, strung together by the threads of grief and mental illness, shouldn't have made for a cohesive story, much less a moving one.  Also, I've never really liked Bradley Cooper on account that I think he's cocky.  Yet despite all of this, I was hooked.

We meet Pat Solitano (Cooper) as he is being sprung from a Baltimore mental institution by his mother.  Although the courts have discouraged the release of the bipolar Pat, who nearly beat his wife's lover to a pulp, they have allowed him to re-enter the world on the condition that he lives with his parents, namely said concerned mother and a just-laid-off Eagles fan fanatic of a father (Robert De Niro) who has plenty of problems of his own.

Still obsessed with his high school English teacher wife, Pat insists that his mother stop at the library on their way home (Philly, haven of hardasses and Eagles enthusiasts) so he can check out all the books on her syllabus.  Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms tops the list, and Pat devours it only to hurl it out the (closed) window in the middle of the night and storm into his parents' bedroom to rant about the sad ending and the unfairness of life and the refusal of Hemingway and all his ilk to give an already-suffering world just one measly silver lining.  It's an impassioned and funny scene (and one I appreciated, having never been a Hemingway fan) that shows just how much Pat is hurting.  It is this vulnerability, despite his violence, that makes him so sympathetic.

No second chance saga is complete without a love interest, and Pat finds his in Tiffany, a new widow and recovering nymphomaniac.  Not that he readily admits his attraction.  Tiffany gives him a run for his money in the hard words department, and he initially resists her friendship on the grounds that he wants to reconcile with his wife.  But Tiffany ambushes him one time too many on one of his trash-bag-clad (all the better to sweat in) runs, and after several unfiltered, in-your-face exchanges, he finds himself agreeing to be her partner in - of all things - a ballroom dancing competition.

Character-driven and introspective, Silver Linings is about two damaged people trying to make a go of it in this crazy, mixed-up world.  It's honest and unvarnished and makes sense of the idea that we're all just a little bit crazy.  Believe it or not, I left the theater in a much better frame of mind than when the credits rolled for This is 40.  Uplifting, indeed.

Movie Moment: New Year's Eve

Like Valentine's Day, Garry Marshall's other holiday-themed, star-studded extravaganza, New Year's Eve features eight intersecting vignettes about people searching for hope, and yes, in most cases, love. 

Here's the rundown.  (I'm not going to bother using character names; when a movie has as many celebrities as this one, they become sort of superfluous.)  Josh Duhamel is hoping to meet the "extraordinary" woman he met last New Year's Eve by chance at a pizza place.  Michelle Pfeiffer is a bored office worker who hires bike messenger Zac Efron to make her New Year's resolutions come true.  Jessica Biel and Seth Meyers are competing with Sarah Paulson and Til Schweiger for the $25,000 awarded to the first baby born in the new year.  Hilary Swank is orchestrating the Times Square ball drop and encounters technical difficulties that can be solved by only eccentric electrician Hector Elizondo.  Sarah Jessica Parker is a single mom trying to prevent her teenage daughter, Abigail Breslin, from spending midnight in Times Square with a boy.  Wise guy Ashton Kutcher and perky Lea Michele get stuck in an elevator.  High-profile caterer Katherine Heigl, whose sous chef is Sophia Vergara, has her heart broken by rock star Jon Bon Jovi (who, oddly, does not quite play himself).  Robert De Niro is dying in a hospital, and Halle Berry is his nurse.  All of this drama is sprinkled by wise words from Ludacris, who plays a cop and, ostensibly, Hilary Swank's work husband.

Although the plot (or, rather, plots) moved a little slowly at first, New Year's Eve is ultimately fun and frothy, spiked with the kind of gentle twists that you (okay, I) loved in Valentine's Day.  High points included commentary on Sarah Jessica Parker's shoes, Seth Myers's comic timing, Sofia Vergara's silliness, and an appearance by recent "Project Accessory" contestant Shea Curry.  Oh, and the Christmas decorations backlit by the glitz of Times Square.  As always, the flashier the better.       

Movie Moment: Little Fockers

Ah, Little Fockers. A definite holiday season must-see on any avid moviegoer's list. The bf and I saw it last Thursday night in a theater that was a bit more crowded than you'd expect on a weeknight.

It was cute. It was funny. It was considerably better than How Do You Know, which we saw New Year's Day. The bf thought it lacked a strong storyline, and maybe that was true. But to me, it was the logical third installment of a story about the progression of love. Meet the Parents was about the universal awkwardness of meeting a girlfriend's parents for the first time. Meet the Fockers was about getting married, having a baby, and the blending of two unlikely families. Little Fockers is about what happens after the babies come. Still happy and in love, the Fockers muddle through the typical minefields that beset couples their age: moving to a bigger house, child rearing, and the threat of infidelity. Not that that last one is a real land mine. Ever the good guy, Ben Stiller's Greg Focker never really considers bedding beautiful and flirtatious drug rep Andi Garcia (insert laugh here), played by Jessica Alba. Still, Andi's there for a reason, if only to prove the strength of Greg and Pam's relationship.

Serious analysis aside, the movie was definitely entertaining. I think my favorite part was when Kevin (Owen Wilson), Pam's ever-ingratiating ex, performs acrobatics in a white spandex suit at the elaborate circus-themed birthday party he throws for Greg and Pam's twins.