Beyond Brisket: Hair Flair from the Heartland

It's no secret that I love a celebrity fashion brand.  Lauren Conrad, Jessica Simpson, and Katy Perry claim a considerable portion of my wardrobe, and once upon a time, I even had a pair of Paris Hilton shoes.  (Harry Styles, if you want to bust out a line of sequin jumpsuits, then I'm here for it.)  And now I can add Ree Drummond to that illustrious list!  That's right, the Pioneer Woman is cooking up more than casseroles, expanding her Walmart offerings from kitchen accoutrements to apparel.  So I was delighted when my mom gifted me with these lovely Pioneer Woman scrunchies and headband, both of which I adore.  Each one is, as Ree says herself, "as useful as it is gorgeous!" 

Way to pretty up pioneering, Ree.  Willa Cather would approve.

Only Book Club With People You Love

So you joined a book club.  And it's your turn to pick.  Your ideal title?  One that's not too serious but not too light, right in the sweet spot of what you'd enjoy and what you think others would enjoy too.  You search and search, but it isn't easy.  You've read this one, the others wouldn't like that one, and this one is about aliens.  Wait, what's this?  A New York Times bestseller and, oh look, the 2021 book club pick of the summer!  Plus, it's by an author you already know and love.  You click Add to Cart, feeling virtuous and even a little smug about what a good choice you've made.  But then again, you know books.  You've been a reader all your life.  You brought books to the playground, you majored in English.  You've got this.

And then one of the other book club members starts reading the book and tells you that there's something in it that'll upset another member.  And you're suddenly feeling all of the things, none of them good.  Your confidence in your ability to recognize quality literature has been shaken.  What's more, now you know how the others felt when you were so put off by The Guest List that you couldn't even finish it.  

Obviously, the "you" in this story is me, and the person who couldn't read my book was my mom or sister.  I'm not going to tell you which, nor will I reveal the title of my bad apple pick.  Partly because I don't want to open that door, but mostly because I protect the privacy of my nearest and dearest better than my own.  When I told the husband what happened, he said that 1) (without any prompting) I know good books (I knew I married him for a reason!), and 2) unless all we read is comics, this is going to keep happening.  He is, of course, right.  As was I when I said that reading is a very personal thing in last year's hard-hitting My Book Club, My Boyfriend.  

Nevertheless, this experience has forced me to grow.  There was a time when I'd cringe even after picking a movie that the other person didn't like.  So if nothing else, then being in a book club has ripped the Band-Aid right off that nonsense.  It also reminds me that other people have nonnegotiables and triggers too, and that we all need to be sensitive to each other's needs.  Still, I don't think I could be in a book club with anyone who isn't family.  Because although my mom and sister and I may sometimes disagree, there's no malice under it.  They're a safe space because they're my people.  And if I'm going to discuss books -- and all the baggage and emotions that come with that -- then I want to do it with people I love.        

That said, I'll still read my slush pile selection.  

I'll just keep it between me, myself, and I -- a.k.a. my book club of one.    

Sugar Skull Bits and Halloween Fits

There are costumes, and then there are costumes.  When it comes to Halloween, the husband has always been more of a DIY than a costume-in-a-bag kind of guy.  So over the years for my parents' Halloween party, he's devised the following disguises:

- Guy Fieri & The Pioneer Woman (not implying they're a couple!)

- Bob Ross & his Happy Little Tree

- Johnny Atkins & Carla from The Goldbergs

- The Brawny Man & the Sparkles Fairy

- Mr. Clean & a '50s Housewife

  

But this year, the husband didn't have time to come up with something homegrown, so we went on Amazon and found these Day of the Dead getups.  Although we've never gone for something scary, I admit that these edgy and -- this part is very important -- not at all gory, dark side ensembles helped me get into the Halloween spirit.  On a lighter note, I loved the rainbow bows bisecting my ribcage.  

Hair comb and choker: Ella & Elly, Zulily

That said, here are my Halloween-themed "regular" outfits.  Or, in other words, my everyday costumes:

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Belt: Marshalls

Silver Spider Necklace

Top: Wet Seal

Alien Admirer Barrette Brooch

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Jelly bracelets: Target; Spike and orange bracelets: Amrita Singh, Zulily; Yellow bangles: B Fabulous; Black and white bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney; Ring: PinkBopp, Etsy; Skirt: Wild Fable, Target; Bag: Cat & Jack, Target

 

Tights: Isadora, Zulily

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Shoes: Sam Edelman, Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Halloween Candy Barrette

Jumbo Jack-O-Lantern Necklace (sold just before Halloween!)

Orange bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Lime bangle and orange bangles: B Fabulous; Purple bracelet: Etsy

Top: Just Poly, Macy's

Lime top: SHEIN

And that's it!  Whatever your plans or apparel, make the most of this year's witching hour.  Have a very safe and happy Halloween! 🎃

Boots Blues and Other Shoes: Patent Leather to Leather-like Plastic

 Blooming Boot Necklace

Sweater: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Hollister, Marshalls

Boots: 2 Lips Too, Zulily

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Barrette: The Tote Trove

From top, clockwise: Apt. 9, Kohl's; Union Bay, Kohl's; Simply Vera, Kohl's; Apt. 9, Kohl's

From top, clockwise: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney; 2 Lips Too, Zulily; Penny Loves Kenny, Amazon; Penney Loves Kenny, Amazon

If you've been reading this blog long enough, then you know that I don't like winter.  That said . . . I love boots.  I love them with skirts, denim and otherwise, and I love them with dresses and jeans.  And not just because they're comfy and hide my gnarly, unpainted toenails.  There's just something irreverent (ironic?) and fun about making a fashion statement with something that was originally intended to block out the snow and muck out horse stalls.  Lately, I'm into ones that are western.  And because I'm a contemplative, avid collector kind of girl, I decided to photograph two groups of my favorite boots -- one featuring four pairs of citified kicks and another showing four pairs for camping out -- or should I say glamping out? -- at the ranch.

Taking these pics got me thinking about Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, which I read awhile ago.  It's Food Network chef Ree Drummond's autobiography, and in it she describes her transformation from country club princess to home on the range homemaker and the style evolution that came with it.  Before she met her husband, she worked in an office and dressed up every day.  She used to love lining up and polishing her collection of black high-heeled pumps.  (Of course, as a vegetarian, she also used to love pasta primavera, but that's a whole other facet of her transformation tale.)  Then she hooked up with her hubby, who she refers to as the Marlboro Man, and moved out to his isolated cattle ranch, where she morphed into the peasant blouse-wearing, steak-scarfing prairie princess (because I still have to get princess in there) that foodies and philistines alike know and love today.

I could relate because back in the day my own style had a harder edge.  (Also because I live next to an empty lot that kind of looks like a ranch.)  I didn't like wearing anything that looked provincial, and that included all things western.  But sometime between then and now I became more eclectic, and country-fried flair emerged as one of the key elements of my look.  Probably because it's homey and warm and, in the right hands, more crazy colorful than the raddest rave getup.  Also, because felt, which I use a lot in my accessories, has that same soft-yet-crunchy aesthetic.  Anyway, my favorite western accessory is (obvi) boots.  Because they show where you're going, and they show where you've been.  And because when you're on a ranch, literal, figurative, or otherwise, it's important to wear something that shows the cows who's heading the herd.  Even if that something is a pair of boots made of plastic instead of rawhide.

They won't know the difference.  They're cows.

P. S.  I don't know what the "otherwise" is.

Best Western: These Boots Were Made for Squawking

 Willa Western Necklaces

Tee: Kohl's

Skirt: Celebrity Pink, Macy's

Boots: 2 Lips Too, DSW

Scarf: Boscov's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes

Beaded bracelet: Plymouth Plantation Museum

Green ring: Claire's

Orange ring: Gifted

Barrette: The Tote Trove

 Toothy Triumvirate Necklace

Dress: Lula Roe

Shoes: Nine West, Marshalls

Bag: Olivia Miller, JCPenney

Silver belt: Boscov's

Turquoise belt: Mixit, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Royal blue bangle: Kohl's

Turquoise bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Flower bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Barrette: The Tote Trove

Snazzy Steer Necklace

Top: Xhilaration, Target

Skirt (a dress!): Target

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: JCPenney

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's 

Sometimes you want to feel country but not be country . . . which is why they made glamping.  At least that's what it says in Sophie Kinsella's My Not So Perfect Life, a novel about a farmer's daughter masquerading as a city slicker.  Because if there's one thing that books and movies tell us, it's that people always want to be something they're not.  For example, sometimes I dress like a cowgirl even though I've always lived in New Jersey.  I realize that this makes it sound as if I want to be a cowgirl, which I do not, cow patties and stunt riding being a mall parking lot away from my wheelhouse.  But once in a while it's nice to enjoy the trappings -- and the rhinestones.  The result is always a Halloweenish, Hollywood version of what I think a cowgirl should look like.  Kind of like when Ree Drummond (yes, that Ree Drummond, of Pioneer Woman fame), dons her gussied-up version of dressed down to meet her boyfriend's parents for the first time only to find them in old clothes, giving her the once-over.  (In case you're wondering, this vignette isn't from Ree's Food Network show, but rather her memoir-slash-origin-story, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels: A Love Story.)  Ree's experience resonates with me because it makes a strange sort of sense.  Having style is -- despite what the fashion rags say -- defined as the dreaded trying too hard.  Fashion is frivolous.  If you're putting in the time to look a certain way, even if that way is I-couldn't-care-less-and-rolled-out-of-bed-like-this, then the jig is up.

But back to western wear.  Or should I say flair?  Or maybe even square . . . as in, dancing.  No, definitely not that one.  Too many flashbacks to fourth grade music class and the grand drama of being paired up with the class Casanova or the kid who always smelled like old cheese.  So, flair it is!  And I troweled it on when making these necklaces.  Impractical, kitschy, and showy, they're everything that a no-nonsense country girl isn't -- and still somehow capture her essence.  And who knows?  Maybe that girl is sick of wide open spaces and stores that only sell chicken feed.  Maybe she wants to light out for the city and kick up her heels and wear something sparkly, Bessie and her bum udder be damned . . .

Okay, time to rein it in.   Let's peruse a few pics of ranch-friendly stuff in my suburban-New Jersey-estranged-from-Mr.-Ed house, shall we?  I don't know about you, but I think a little frontier flavor makes any house homier.

And hits the spot when you want something western that isn't an omelet.   

 A painting I got for $5 at Kirklands. 

 Cacti and birdies, a.k.a. the "squawkers." 

Sunny side up with sunflowers.