Showing posts with label Teddy Ruxspin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teddy Ruxspin. Show all posts

Friday, October 30, 2020

Leopard Love: Getting Frank With Fan Favorite Lisa

 
Skirt: XOXO, Macy's

Top: Grayson Threads, Kohl's

Bag: B&B

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Zulily

Top: Target

Big Pink Pompom Bow Barrette

Bag: Zulily

Desert Necklaces

Boots: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

There's something playful about colorful leopard.  Like somebody impishly swiped a highlighter across the earth-toned Serengeti.  And that somebody is Lisa Frank.  (If the title of this post implied that I'd be interviewing the icon, then 1) please accept my sincerest apologies, and 2) you should know better than that.  Still, Lisa Frank would most certainly be one of those three people, dead or alive, that I'd invite to dinner.  Right between Madame Curie and the guy who invented Cheetos.  (Just kidding.  Madame Curie would be too depressing.)  Of all the artists who've made their multi-hued mark on the animal kingdom, I think Lisa deserves the most credit.  Perhaps her most creative contribution of all is the rainbow leopard.  Well, the rainbow everything.  But one not-so-still-life at a time.  


No doubt about it, Lisa's the first lady of cute.  She was destined to make drab things fanciful, what with hailing from the desert.  She also has a heartwarming knack for turning ferocious beasts into cuddly critters.  (And no, I haven't forgotten about Teddy Ruxspin, or, for that matter, Furbies.  But are they wrapped in ROYGBIV?  I think not.  Also, there's no need for toys that come with their own commentary.  I'm talking to you, Cricket.)  


That said, these outfits are my humble homage to Ms. Frank's sassy safari.  I even managed to get a few cacti in there!  Not to mention Hello Kitty.  Which has nothing to do with Lisa Frank but remains firmly saved with her and her merch in my late-'80s-early-'90s childhood memory bank.  

A bank, of course, that's decked out with little pink hearts and fluorescent rainbows.  

P.S. Lisa Frank, if you're out there, I'd like to pitch you an idea:

Neon green, lightning bolt-ringed Marie Curie hugging a kitten clutching a lollipop growing an ear.

Can you say sticker book centerfold? 

Sunday, November 3, 2019

Bear Flair: The Joy of Corduroy


Mauve, white, teal, and raspberry minis: Wild Fable, Target
Tan mini: Celebrity Pink, Macy's
Lilac mini: Modcloth
Pants: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

The last time I blogged, it was October, and it was about jackets.  Now it's November . . . which means time for corduroy!  It doesn't get much more retro than this elegant yet rustic ribbed velvet that's most at home with Led Zeppelin and love beads.  Also, Adam Sandler's "Thanksgiving Song" ("my favorite kind of pants are corduroys"), which I guess is retro now too, having come out in the '90s.

So, yeah, I like this fally fabric, as evidenced by the picture above.  But someone else likes it beary much, too.  There are lots of famous grizzlies out there: the Berenstain Bears, the Care Bears, even, if we're to count that strange cartoon, the Gummy Bears.  But only one wears stylin' green overalls.  And that's our story's star, Corduroy.


A sweet and curious underdog if ever there was one, this library darling remains at the top of children's woodland creature wish lists (because yes, that's totally a thing).  And no wonder.  He's so much cuddlier than that creepy Teddy Ruxpin. 

Anyway, for those of you who don't know, the first book, Corduroy, introduces the title character as languishing in a toy store with a missing button.  Then a little girl named Lisa busts open her piggy bank and buys him.  She brings him home and, with some surprisingly deft needlework for a child, restores him to his former sartorial splendor.

Yet it's the second book, A Pocket for Corduroy, that captured my Pre-K imagination.  Lisa brings Corduroy to a laundromat, which is fun because there are lots of colorful pictures of clothes.  She tells Corduroy to stay put while she does her laundry, but he sees something with a pocket and wanders off because, hey, he wants a pocket too!  A kindly, beret-wearing artist washes Corduroy's overalls (and, in fact, mistakenly washes him!).  But then it's closing time, and he leaves Corduroy to brave the night alone.  To be fair, he does say he's "too fine a fellow to be lost."


Corduroy gets into some mischief involving detergent (because really, who hasn't?) and gives himself a bit of a fright.  But the next morning Lisa finds him.  He tells her about the pocket (apparently he's not one of those talking toys that hides his powers), and she promptly takes him home and stitches a snazzy purple one to his overalls.  

I think it was Corduroy's commitment to clothes that got me.  He understood the importance of details and wasn't afraid of a little danger if it meant snagging his look.

Take a hint, Snuggles, and put on some pants.