Might of the Iguana: Think Pink

Top: Bongo, Sears

Belt: B Fabulous; Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Amazon; Black and white bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney; Bow: Carole, JCPenny; Blue bracelet: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Ring: Mixit, JCPenney

Dress: Everly, Modcloth

Tights: Zulily

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon; Flower barrette: Cappelli, ULTA; Pink bracelets: So, Kohl's; Pink pendant: H&M; Light pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily; Sparkly bangle: Target; Mermaid keychain: Ella & Elly, Zuily; Dragon bangles: Simply Vera, Kohl's; Heart ring: Candie's, Kohl's; Flower bracelet: Belk's 

Top and skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Tights: Hue, Amazon

Blue bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Yellow and striped bangles: B Fabulous; Red ring: Making Waves, Ocean City; Bag: T-Shirt & Jeans, Kohl's; Blue ring: Michaels; Boots: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney

Dress: Lily Rose, Kohl's

I don't know much about the might of the iguana because I've never had to wrangle it -- or any other reptile -- unless you count trying to get through Tennessee Williams's "Night of the Iguana" in college.  But in that classic, albeit creepy play, the scaly rapscallion in question isn't so much a pest as a symbol of freedom.  And as such, its likeness in this colorful (Sleepyville!) critter clutch makes fashion freedom worth fighting for.  Take that, school uniforms!

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Amazon

Now, I didn't go to private school, which means that I was free to wear stretch pants and vests far longer than I should have.  But clothes were always important to me, and I felt sorry for anyone forced to wear a standard-issue, identity-stripping skirt and polo.  Even in the lawless halls of pubic school, I wasn't allowed to wear my hat -- a red and white flower-adorned, floral-print cloche that would've been the envy of Blossom -- on picture day.  I still remember the shame of 1) being called out for trying to break the rules and 2) lacking the nerve to go through with the rebellion.  If only I could've tossed my hat high in the air post picture like Mary Tyler Moore (apparently, my idea of badassery looks like a beloved '70s sitcom).  So private school prisoners and hat fans everywhere, this declaration of outfit independence is for you.  

That said, think pink for now but stand by for flag flair, because Memorial Day's right around the corner.  

Iguana, I love when you become a chameleon.

Curtain Call Drawl: Sass Menagerie

Ella Elephant Charm Necklace

Tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: H&M

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Red and white bangles: B Fabulous

Orange bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes

Sunglasses: The Tote Trove

Lator, Gator Charm Necklace

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Amazon

Shoes: Lilliana, Venus

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Red bangle: B Fabulous

Black and white bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney

Yellow bangle: B Fabulous

Sunglasses: So, Kohl's

Prancing Bear Charm Necklace

Tee: Merona, Target

Skirt: Amazon

Shoes: Cape Robin, Ami Clubwear

Bag: Lily Bloom, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Michaels

Blue bracelet: Cloud Nine

Yellow bangle: B Fabulous

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes

It seems that I'm still in a Tennessee state of mind, having just watched the season finale of "Nashville."  Why else would I combine a post about elephant, gator, and bear necklaces with a country music soap update and wrap it all up with a reference to a great American play?  I mean, other than as some sort of high-brow tribute to the Country Bears Jamboree.  And, somehow, I don't think Mr. Williams would like that.

But this post isn't about Tennessee's tales of love lost and not found.  It's about CMT's stories of the same kind, which are, of course, often as bittersweet as Music City's chart toppers.  Last Thursday was "Nashville's" season five finale, as well as its very first finale on CMT and without Rayna James (Connie Britton).  The story line centered around the precarious fate of Highway 65, Rayna's beloved self-made label for up-and-coming artists, with Avery (Jonathan Jackson) and Juliette's (Hayden Panettiere) and Scarlett (Clare Bowen) and Gunnar's (Sam Palladio) forever wayward romantic crossroads singing backup.  Deacon (Charles Esten), too, had new contenders in the romance arena, as he began the slow, arduous process of mending his broken heart.   Less cliff-hangery and more introspective than its predecessors, this finale seemed a fitting tribute to the new Nashville that took flight this season.  A Nashville, that is, that's more about people than plot twists.  And I, for one, can't wait to see where this as of yet untraveled road goes.  Good thing CMT meant what it said about cherishing and honoring the show (burn on you, ABC), picking it up for a sixth season.                   

But no need to pen a sad song just yet, because there's still a drop of bourbon-slash-sweet-tea left in this pitcher.  Which is to say, stop by next week for a new Nashville nugget.  And more necklaces :)   

Movie Moment: Young Adult

January is not a time for happy movies.  When the bf and I hit the theater to see Young Adult last Friday night, it was thronged with people who had turned out for the horror flick The Devil Inside (not to be confused with the upbeat INXS hit of the same name).  

But I'm not here to talk about that movie (thankfully). 

Young Adult is the story of 37-year-old failed young adult fiction ghostwriter and recent divorcee Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron).  Suffering from (the beginnings of?) alcoholism and depression, Mavis takes one last greedy grab at happiness by returning to her one-horse Minnesota hometown to stalk her high school boyfriend, Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson), who is now married with a baby.  So things are pretty bleak, right down to Mavis's seedy Minneapolis apartment, nearly empty closet, and take-no-prisoners bitchiness.  Mavis is the kind of woman who wears sweats to Macy's and no-holds-barred-cleavage-baring dresses to brightly lit sports bars.  She also has the nasty habit of pulling out her hair, a problem she masks by wearing hair extensions.

Mavis is in a bar plotting her next move with Buddy when she runs into ex-classmate Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt).  (I'd like to interject that I've always found Oswalt's "King of Queens" character Spence to be sensitive and endearing and thought that Doug and Co. were far too hard on him.  Now back to the discussion at hand.)  Mavis, having been of the in crowd elite, doesn't immediately recognize him but ends up exclaiming (something along the lines of), "Hey, you're that hate crime guy!", her eyes traveling to the cane propped next to his barstool.  Matt then relays how he was beaten and left for dead by the football team (I think) because they thought he was gay, the effects of which permanently damaged his nether regions.  Thawed by this icebreaker, Mavis reveals her plans to win Buddy back, much to Matt's disgust. 

As one may predict, it's a disgust that's well-founded.  Although receptive to meeting Mavis, Buddy is clearly discomfited by her return.  Even Mavis's parents don't know what to say when she retreats to her childhood bedroom and dons Buddy's old sweatshirt.  (By the way, what's with these movies where parents leave their grown kids' bedrooms creepily untouched?  I don't know about you, but my old room has long since been stripped of its unicorn figurines.)  Yet as Mavis grows more and more distant from the people who, as she puts it, "knew her at her best," she and Matt nurse a tenuous friendship.

A few words about Buddy.  He's obviously meant to be a good guy and comes out looking even better than I suspect he should when stacked against Mavis's machinations.  But he does a few things that he shouldn't, revealing Mavis to be vulnerable and, dare I say, sympathetic.  She's a modern-day Blanche Dubois, delusional and damaged, gorgeous and glamorous, and desperately trying to hang on to a time that has moved on without her.  She's not the cheerleader who married her high school sweetheart and got all fat and happy.  But she's not the big-city success story, either.  She's a ghostwriter for a teen series that's outgrown itself, a byline-less novelist living through her characters in hopes of achieving greatness.

As I hinted at this post's beginning, Young Adult isn't a feel good movie.  (Cue the ladies a few rows ahead of us who screeched, "That's it?!" as the credits rolled.)  But it's a good movie and one worth seeing.  Theron and Oswalt shine as outcasts from opposite sides of the social spectrum, and the nebulous ending makes a kind of sad perfect sense.