Stars Above and Last Chance Love: Friends and Lovers and Mothers

It usually takes me two days to read a book, but now that I'm a new mom, it took me two weeks to read The Magic of Found Objects by Maddie Dawson.  You may recall that this is the novel I started reading while in the hospital.  Even then, when my focus was elsewhere, I knew it'd be good.  Yet once I was home, I didn't think I'd have time to get back to it.  Although the husband gallantly took on the night shift with Charlotte, my days were (and are) filled with feedings, diaper changes, and taking pics of our little Char Bar.  (To be fair, the husband's usually right there beside me despite my efforts to get him to nap.)  But gradually, I realized that I could squeeze in a chapter here and there.  And then I got the bright idea to read when Charlotte is snuggled next to me.  When the husband first saw us like that, he referred to her as my little reading buddy.  

So, The Magic of Found Objects.  It's the story of the fancifully named Phronsie and her quest for love as she untangles her complicated relationship with her mother.  Once upon a time at Woodstock, hippie artist Tenaj (which is just Janet spelled backwards) bewitched straight-arrow farmer Robert.  The result was the free-spirited Phronsie and her painfully prosaic twin brother Hendrix (and yes, he's named for Jimi).  Tenaj and Robert called it quits after just two years, and the twins stayed on the farm with their father.  They didn't see their mother again until they were six, and even then they remained semi-estranged.  This was especially hard on Phronsie. 

Now Phronsie's a New York City publicist in her mid-thirties who's ready for marriage and children.  So when her bestie Judd, whom she's known since kindergarten, proposes, she jumps at the chance.  Who needs romance when you've got a sure thing?  At least that's what Phronsie and Judd tell each other -- and themselves.  But then the universe brings Phronsie a gnome-collecting surfer dude, and despite her engagement, she finds herself hopelessly smitten.  Suddenly, she's torn between her head and her heart, desire and duty -- the very opposites that destroyed her parents.

Dawson paints Phronsie's world as enchanted, a not-quite-grown-up and sometimes sad fairy tale.  Yet despite my love for this bittersweet, quirky yarn, one thing I couldn't quite reconcile was Tenaj leaving her babies.  That part made me ache.

My reading rate may have slowed since becoming a mom.  But my emotional response has only grown stronger.

The Perks of Being a Peasant

Top: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

It seems like peasant tops and dresses are always in style.  Anytime anyone so much as thinks festival, boho, or Anthropologie sale rack, there they are, the ties of their wholesomely flattering drawstring necklines flowing as freely as if they'd just come from Woodstock or the compost pile of a community garden.  The popularity of the peasant aesthetic is a no-brainer.  Still, by all accounts, a peasant isn't a great thing to be. 

Dresses: Planet Gold, Macy's

Brainy or not, I fell for these farmer's daughter chic pieces priced for the proletariat (or what passes for the proletariat these days, the world having moved on from having one burlap sack per household).  I think each dress was less than fifteen dollars, although the promiscuity of my bargain hunting conquests prevents me from saying for sure.  I ordered them from the juniors section of Macy's, which gave me a thrill now that I've semi-graduated to the grown-up lady clothes known as misses.  That name's a bit insulting, don't you think?  As if a woman of a certain age with slightly more sophisticated tastes and generous proportions must be married or else.  And, by the same token, as if a svelte young thing couldn't and shouldn't be shopping for china.  So presumptuous!  Let crop top-clad coeds play house and fifty-five-year-olds troll for tail in sensible tweeds if they want to.

And yes, this time tail means men.  

Which reminds me of that Friends episode where Phoebe's dating two guys at once but complains that it's more like working in the field than playing the field.  Weirdly, this goes against what I just said about the supposed fun of stalking man meat.  But it also brings us back to the peasant thing, which is somehow both personified by and blown up by one Ms. Buffay.  

So thanks, Phoebe.  Even if you're not a peasant and your field is a park in the middle of the world's biggest city.  Your simple ways underscore wisdom, the kind best communicated through a song about a cat that reeks.  Regina Phalange has nothing on you, and not just because you married Paul Rudd.  

Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, however, is another story. 

Beef vs. Leaf: Hooray for Hippie Carnivores

Daisy headband?  Check.  Flower power peasant top?  Check.  Steak and potatoes necklace and cheeseburger wristlet?  Double check and don't hold the bacon!

Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Peace and love and eating meat aren't two things that usually go together.  People of the pacifist persuasion are often depicted as vegetarians, whereas their warlord counterparts are seen salivating over all that is juicy.  Maybe that's why I was compelled to come up with a look that says Woodstock-meets-woodfire-grill.  I like contrasts.  Visually, they offer artistic appeal.  Intellectually, they bridge the space between black and white.  I cotton to the contrast of this particular outfit because I'm a live-and-let live lady who digs both boho duds and Red Robin.  Also, if I'm being honest (and I am, always), then it gives me an opportunity to reheat my Fabulous Felt Steak Dinner Necklace.

Fabulous Felt Steak Dinner Necklace

It's an old one, this necklace, so much so that I can now call it aged beef.  Which is weird because unlike wine or blue cheese, I feel like such a so-called delicacy would attract maggots.  But then, my left mini meathook in this pic is pretty weird, too, all lumpy and intense reddish purple.  I wish I could say that its rib-eye-ripe shade is the result of slaying London broil, but the toughest thing it's ever sundered is felt.

Also, truth be told, I eat mostly chicken.