Sorority of Satire: Never Judge a Book by its Lover

For my last book club pick, I went with Curtis Sittenfeld's Eligible.  Not because I'm a Jane Austen fan, but because I'm a fan of Sittenfeld's Romantic Comedy.  Eligible is (probably?) the latest in the many modern takes on Austen's Pride and Prejudice.  Which gave me pause because -- and please don't send hate mail -- I've never liked that book.  I found Elizabeth Bennett kind of cold and Austen's writing tedious.  I know, I know.  It's a classic, not to mention the archetype for every romantic comedy ever.  Even the famously critical Sheldon Cooper couldn't argue its excellence when trying to denigrate things Amy Farrah Fowler loved on The Big Bang Theory, conceding, "He has too much pride, she has too much prejudice.  It just works."  That said, I was intrigued by Eligible as a pop culture comment on a novel that's never far from the zeitgeist.

And you know what?  It was a hoot.  This time Elizabeth is a New York City-based women's magazine writer.  Her big sis Jane is a yoga instructor and lives in the Big Apple too, and their three younger sisters Mary, Kitty, and Lydia are unemployed and live with their parents in a crumbling mansion in Cincinnati.  I always knew that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were caricatures, but I never appreciated just how laughable they are until Sittenfeld reincarnated them as a health insurance objector and shopaholic hoarder.  Even Elizabeth's dislike for Darcy rings truer when she overhears him disparaging her hometown to his bestie and Jane's love interest Bingley.  Darcy, by the way, is an ER doc, a role that imbues him with all the arrogant pomp he needs to do his namesake justice.  Not only that, but he's still super rich and master of Pemberley.   

But it's not just the characters that emerge as more vivid.  I really enjoyed the language.  It's just dry enough, sharpened by wit and insight and, yes, heart to echo the vibe of the original in a way that doesn't, as I like to say, "stick in your throat."  Add some very present-day social scenarios, all of which reveal Elizabeth to, surprise surprise, be the most traditional as well as the most forward-thinking of the Bennetts, and you have a silken satire.

So hats (bonnets?) off to you, Curtis Sittenfeld, for softening my misinformed prejudice toward this timeless title.

Maybe I'm a little like Elizabeth after all.          

Giving Pants and France a Chance

Top and jeans: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Enchanted Eiffel Necklace

Bow: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Socks: Amazon; Shoes: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Top: New York & Company; Pants: Vylette, Kohl's

Shoes: Mix No. 6, DSW

Headband: INC, Macy's

Elephant Anchor Necklace

Sweater: Maison Jules, Amazon; Bag: Skinnydip London, Macy's

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, DSW

Everything But The Kitchen Pink Necklace

It's true.  I'm taking on trousers and the land of croissants.  My pink pants are even from the French-sounding brand Vylette -- although that label has gone the way of the guillotine.  No matter.  I went the extra mile for Francophile style with my Enchanted Eiffel Necklace (because what's the City of Lights sans unicorn?) and my micro review of Jenn McKinlay's Paris is Always a Good Idea. 

Oddly, this romcom can best be described by The Big Bang Theory (Season 5, Episode 9).  Leonard and Penny are on a platonic movie date when Leonard suggests that they see a documentary about building a dam on a river in South America because he's tired of Penny picking romcoms that are "an hour and a half of beach houses in the rain until the woman turns around and realizes that love was here all along."  Penny retorts that that's a great movie and it's starting in ten minutes.  The classic soulmate search trope that Leonard so callously mocks is Paris is Always a Good Idea in a nutshell -- or, more appropriately, a popcorn kernel.  Here are (some of the, remember this is micro) details:  

After hearing that her widowed dad is getting remarried to a woman who won him in a bachelor auction, super-serious-professional-woman-who-doesn't-have-time-for-fun Chelsea Martin (shoutout to Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?) gallivants across Europe to track down three old flames to reignite her belief in love.  But she can barely choke down a bite of baguette before her office nemesis Jason Knightley pops up and cock blocks her.  Sure, this plot's a little familiar.  But then again, so are the plots of those movies.  And sometimes the familiar is what you need.

I can't say the same for documentaries.  Unless they're about croissants or baguettes or why we love romcoms so much.

Party of One, Party of Fun: One Isn't the Loneliest Number

"You need to get out more."

We've all heard it, whether in fiction or in IRL.  Sometimes it's tossed off in an all-in-good-fun spirit ("What, you've never been to the Cheesecake Factory?!  You need to get out more!").  Other times it's snarkier ("How do you not know who Jim Parsons is?  You need to get out more."  Insert eyeroll;  bonus points if it's lazy.).  But there's no mistaking that it's never a term of endearment.  That's because the speaker (we'll call him "the extrovert") deems himself worldlier and worthier than the speakee (that would be "the introvert") and therefore justified in dispensing his glib, disingenuously cruel-to-be-kind advice.  But I've always been of the opinion that it's not getting out more that grows a more knowledgeable, interesting, and ultimately more empathetic human.  It's staying in.     

So you can imagine my delight upon finding Hallie Heald's 41 Reasons I'm Staying In: A Celebration of Introverts.  If ever there was a book that countered the aforementioned life-of-the-party propaganda -- or, indeed, that was designed for the new normal shelter-in-place lifestyle of the COVID pandemic -- then it's this one.  Dedicated to "all the introverts I've met and may never meet," Heald's strange and fanciful picture book challenges the inherent shame of the home-alone-on-a-Saturday-night stereotype, elevating solitude to an art form.  Her forty-one for-one activities range from the hilariously selfless "midwifing for my gerbil" to the self-indulgently creative "designing my Halloween costume" to the downright dark "making voodoo dolls of my exes."  Each pursuit illustrates (both literally and figuratively; the pictures are a hoot) that it doesn't matter what you do in hermit mode as long as it makes you feel like you, a commodity that's all too elusive when in a crowded club or conference room. All of us feel like this some of the time, and some of us feel like this all of the time.  And I for one am a homebody who firmly falls into camp number two.  

And that's why it's so great that 41 Reasons I'm Staying In applauds those of us who prefer our own company.  Because sometimes being alone isn't about being on the outside looking in.  Sometimes it's about being on the inside looking out.  Not in envy, but in the kind of comfort that can only come from being where you know you belong.

You know.  In your favorite chair knitting a tracksuit, singing to a sourdough starter, or curating a cicada circus while The Big Bang Theory hums in the background.  

Game, set, and match, lazy eye.

Quiz Show Bow: Magnificent Mayim

Jacket: Material Girl, Macy's; Top: A New Day, Target; Skirt: Dolls Kill; Shoes: Shoe Carnival; Bag: Xhilaration, Target; Sunglasses: Amazon

For the last two weeks, I've so enjoyed watching Mayim Bialik guest host Jeopardy!.  From her  prettily professorial garb to her well-timed witticisms to her banter when interviewing contestants, she's the total package and the only guest host to date who reminds me of the late great Alex Trebek.  After all, who but an accomplished actress-slash-neuroscientist could deliver the kind of cerebral star quality worthy of Jeopardy!?  What's more, Bialik's charity of choice for Jeopardy's! donation match of the winnings is the National Alliance on Mental Illness.  Advocacy for mental illness, which affects so many, has never been more important.  There couldn't be a more fitting cause for a show all about braininess.  If Bialik's sitcom Call Me Kat hadn't gotten picked up for a second season, then I'd be keeping my fingers crossed that she be crowned host for keeps.   

That said, what's up with this outfit?  Well, watching Bialik made me think of blazers, which reminded me that I have this cherry-print one and that it had to come out of hiding!  So, one if-not-professorial-then-schoolgirl skirt later, I put together an ensemble including my newest necklace.   

Real Teal Necklace

Strung with stars in a subtle salute to our stellar scene-stealer, this Real Teal Necklace is simpatico with "What is, celestial."

Maybe I'll wear it when I tune in tonight to watch Bialik go out with a bang.

Painted Pony Party

Boots: Penny Loves Kenny, Amazon

Palette Party Necklace

Top: POPSUGAR, Kohl's

Paint Party Earrings

Sweater: Hooked Up, Macy's

Jacket: Delia's, Dolls Kill

Hey You Unicorn Earrings

Purse: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Hey You Unicorn Necklace

Jacket: Marshalls

Fiery Fiesta Necklace

Skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Fiery Fiesta Earrings

A painted pony party

Is the place to be

When you're still quarantining 

With your Christmas tree.

It's true.  I still have my tree up, along with the rest of my holiday hoopla.  Still, all I want to do is make jewelry and write posts.  And when I say jewelry, I mean the kind incorporating unicorns.

Girls have a history of being infatuated with horses, enchanted or otherwise.  On a recent episode of Young Sheldon, Sheldon's (Iain Armitage) twin sister Missy (Raegan Revord) supports the stereotype when she says this about her supplies for starting middle school: 

"I feel like this (Trapper Keeper) really says who I am now.  Missy got ponies; Melissa gets horses."

If shifting one's affections from ponies to horses is a rite of passage, then I'm not sure where unicorns fit in.  But I do know that at some point during adulthood, liking them once again becomes acceptable, in a campy/kooky/I'm-so-old-I'm-young-again sort of way.  Which is why I have no problem saying that I love them -- and that they're made of magic.  Well, magic and manure.  Even if the manure is, according to that Squatty Potty promo, in the form of rainbow-colored soft serve.  Here's some of my (non-manure spouting) unicorn stuff staged with my new Hey You Unicorn necklace and earrings:   

It kind of makes you want to step inside a Lisa Frank coloring book and stay there forever, doesn't it?

Yet, despite the wonder of unicorns and all things giddyap glam, the rodeo will never be Rodeo Drive. 

Nothing ever is.  Just ask Julia.

Brie TV

Every Hot Dog Has its Play Necklace

Top: Wet Seal
Skirt (a dress!): Modcloth
Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily
Bag: Nordstrom

Belt: Marshalls 

 Oh What an Oval Necklace

Sweater: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Amazon

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Bag: City Streets, J. C. Penney's

Scarf: A. C. Moore

Sunglasses: Target

Gnome: Target

Four Feathered Friends Necklace

Dress: Candie's, Kohl's
Top: Vylette, Kohl's
Shoes: Worthington, J. C. Penney's
Bag: Lily Bloom, J. C. Penney's
Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon
Red bangle: B Fabulous
Yellow bangle: Silver Linings
Lime bracelet: Cloud Nine
Purple bracelet: Etsy

Um, Brie TV?!  Yeah, Brie, that fancy cheese baked with honey and candied walnuts and other gourmet gooeyness.  As opposed to something more basic and chemical-choked.  Like spray cheese.  But we'll get to that.  

If you're thinking that there's something different about these pictures, then you're right:

Outfit #1

I used the Windows photo editor to draw on the dress, which is something I've never done.  The peplum got lost in the light, and I thought, I have a fix for that!  One tangerine line later, and this ruffle was ready to rumba.  

Outfit #2

The off thing here is the gnome.  The outfit needed something else.  Why not let that something be a small man dressed in pastels?  

Outfit #3

This one doesn't have anything weird going on.  But it does boast the only brand-new piece in this post, namely the lime turtleneck.  

Which is no small thing.  Because new clothes mean good times.  

If there's a baby shower you don't want to go to or a test you don't want to take, then wearing something fresh off the rack makes you feel better.  Or, at the very least, distracts you by giving you something cool to look at.  "The Big Bang Theory's" Penny said it best: "You know, sometimes when I'm feeling all stressed out about something, I go out and buy a cute top or a fun skirt, and I have a whole new outlook on life."  Of course, then Sheldon said, "Don't you eventually realize you're the same stressed-out person in a cute top or a fun skirt?", forcing Penny to deadpan, "Yeah, that's when I buy shoes."  

Oh, Sheldon.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: TV has so much to teach us.  On the cheeseboard of life lessons -- for yes, there is a cheeseboard -- it's the aforementioned and beloved Brie.  

See?  I told you we'd get there.  

A couple of weeks ago, I heard this golden nugget (or maybe I should say artisanal cheese curd) on "Single Parents."  Miggy (Jake Choi) starts temping at Angie's (Leighton Meester's) office and, to Angie's horror, likes it.

Angie: "What about the small talk?"

Miggy: "I love it!  Small talk is the busy work of conversation."

Busy work and small talk appeal to Miggy because he doesn't have to think about them.  They're so empty that they're effortless, and that, of course, is the joke.  But Angie has no time for such nonsense.  To her, weather chitchat is a tedious pretense requiring energy better spent on emailing exes.  The takeaway?  Some people are not people people.  

Even soap operas have wisdom.  Take "One Life to Live."  Despite being a show that I've never watched, it has a name that all but bludgeons us with a reminder of how precious time is.  Not unlike "Days of Our Lives" (I missed this one too; I was a "Guiding Light" fan).  Everything I know about "Days" I know from "Friends."  Specifically, that it made Joey spout off a deep thought after watching it for his audition.  It was something about how the characters on the soap are living the days of their lives while he and the rest of the Central Perkers are living the days of their lives.  Anything that makes Joey think about something other than sex and sandwiches is worth its weight in cliffhangers.

Not so smug are we now, Learning Channel?     

I Spy Cat's Eye

Some people dread the dentist.  But my nemesis is the eye doctor.  And I use the term doctor loosely.  Because optometrists and ophthalmologists have about as much in common as Milli Vanilli and Adele.  You'd think that knowing this would calm me down to near cockiness.  But last Sunday, when it was time for my yearly eye exam at a Visionworks shoehorned between Moe's and David's Bridal, I still felt pressure to pass all those tests.  Not as much as I used to, mind you.  But I hadn't achieved that coveted cool as a cucumber status.  Or maybe I should say cool as a carrot status because carrots are supposed to be good for your eyes.  

Anyway, you know the kinds of tests I mean. What's the smallest line you can read?  Which line is clearer, one or two?  Two or three?  How many aliens are in front of the farmhouse?  (I made that last one up.  But I think that the tests should be more entertaining, especially the air puff one for glaucoma.  Hearing a Mario Brothers storming the castle sound effect when you get punched would make it less scary.)  I was even more on edge because my nearsighted self wears glasses only to drive, a behavior that compromises my ocular integrity, making the kindly optometrist (for he is kindly, despite his choice in profession) suspicious.  This, I realize, makes me, not him, the Milli Vanilli.  His questions went something like this: So, you don't wear your glasses when you go to the movies?  Or when you watch TV?  Or use the computer?  No, no, and no.  But wouldn't things be clearer if you did?  Well, sure.  But I'm not blind (despite what that guy at the DMV once said).  And seeing every wrinkle on Brian Austin Green's face while I watch "BH 90210" isn't something I want in my life.  

Nor is being known as someone who wears glasses.  Not that there's anything wrong with glasses.  Daria rocked them like the badass she was, and "The Big Bang Theory's" Bernadette wouldn't be Bernadette without them.  It's just that they're not me.  

  

That said, fun and funky sunglasses like these are the only lenses I want on my face.  And yes, these pics do get slightly smaller as you make your way down.  Which Tote Trove lady is clearer, daisy cat's eye or red hearts?  Red hearts or purple hearts?  Purple hearts or invisible alien?  

Guess what?  After all that angst, it turns out I didn't even need new glasses.  

Which was just as well because everyone knows that Mr. Green doesn't have wrinkles.

The Rants Go Marching Two by Too: Huzzah! Huzzah!

Flair Weather Friend Necklace

Sweater: Mudd, Kohl's
Skirt (a dress!): Monteau, Marshalls
Shoes: Guess, Marshalls
Bag: Lily Bloom, JCPenney
Sunglasses: Michaels

Punky Pineapple Necklace

Sweater: Mudd, Kohl's

Jeans: Vanilla Star, Boscov's

Shoes: Guess, Marshalls

Bag: Worthington, JCPenney

Barrette: The Tote Trove

Maroon bangles: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's

Coral bangle: Silver Linings, Ocean City boardwalk

Fuchsia/white bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

If you're a college basketball fan (or just own a TV), then you know that March means madness.  As if the warp-speed winds of this lion-lamb month aren't bad enough, the NCAA sees fit to jab its elbows into the soft underbellies of our prime-time programming.  I know, I know. There's On Demand and Netflix, and no one watches TV in real time anymore anyway except ninety-year-olds.  And me. But I like my stegosaurus system of seeing my shows (as the oldsters say) when they air, commercials and all.  Choking down that last bite of tuna noodle casserole so you don't miss the opening zinger on The Big Bang Theory makes it seem like more of an event.  Like going to the movies to watch the next Marvel installment instead of catching it on cable while you clip your toenails.

Anyway, March is crazy.  One day it's snowing, and the next it's sidling up to sixty.  So I thought, why not embrace the madness and style summer stunner necklaces with sweaters that all but scream Christmas?  Because nothing says Santa like mulberry and jade in pop-the-champagne chenille.

I don't know about you, but sometimes I like buying things in (slightly modified) twos.  Like these sweaters.  In addition to being different colors, they're also different sizes (jade XS, mulberry S) and cost different prices (jade $3, mulberry $10).  Other than that, they're exactly the same, two jolly holly berries in a Mudd puddle pod.  I wore the mulberry one already just as it's pictured here, except with pink Uggs instead of the heels (snow, oh why do you hate me?).  And I'm looking forward to wearing the jade one, sun bag and all, before spring -- well, springs.

So I guess that March can be magical.  And magically delicious come St. Patrick's Day.  As long as that gruesome twosome -- sports and snow -- don't stink up the meadow.

Shamrocks hate stinkiness.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Please Let Down Your Cares: The Hairy Truth About Happiness

Fabulous Felt Strawberry Banana Orange Barrette

Top: Express, Marshalls

Skirt: ELLE, Kohl's

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Modcloth

Sunglasses: Michaels

Modern life moves at warp speed.  Pressures bombard us from every direction, smartphones and smarter screens only adding to the struggle.  (Although, to be fair, there's nothing easy about the old school practice of hacking a chicken to bits as opposed to, say, picking up some Perdue.  Ah, the good old days!)  That's why people say "keep calm and carry on," or "I'm going to my happy place."  I can't hear that last one without thinking of the end of Happy Gilmore when Adam Sandler daydreams about his grandmother hitting the jackpot, Chubbs alive and playing the piano, and a lingerie-clad Julie Bowen serving up pitchers of beer -- all meditations that help him win the big tournament.  My happy places are The Tote Trove, anywhere the husband is, and inside a good book.  Also, any of my favorite stores, although I've recently been making an effort to rely on those particular havens less often.  Not that I don't still love shopping -- let's not get crazy now!  But I'm trying to do the most I can with what I've got -- a goal, it seems, that applies to much more than stretching one's bead supply.

In this spirit of simplicity, I have only one piece to post this week.  And while I'm on the subject, I think I'll stop calling them "pieces."  It's so pretentious, like I'm hammering gold instead of cutting felt.  No, this week's craft is most certainly a "barrette" - a lovely, nostalgic, and very French word that evokes memories of allowance splurges on adornments for long, undyed hair.  In other words, the hallmark of less tress-stressed times.  Maybe that's one of the reasons I've clung to my girlish-meets-sister wives 'do for more than a decade -- it reminds me of when life was simple.  That, and more sophisticated hair care can be a real bitch.  (Yep, I used the b-word.  Because sometimes keeping calm and carrying on means sprinkling a little salt on your soup.)  

Nevertheless  . . . I'm considering cutting my mane.  Because I suspect that there really is something therapeutic about getting rid of all that dead weight.  Haircuts are no stranger to women in transition.  "The Big Bang Theory's" Kaley Cuoco cut her hair to skullcap proportions shortly after getting married -- and before getting divorced -- in real life.  And when Scarlett (Clare Bowen) lost her mom on "Nashville," she chopped her waist-length locks to an ear-skimming pixie.  But perhaps it was Sheryl Crow who, albeit breaking free of the coiffure coterie, said (er, sang) it best with her all-purpose and all-powerful mantra: "a change will do you good."

    

On a lighter note, briefer strands will be an even better canvas for showcasing -- what else? -- barrettes.