The One In Which I Show You

All right – what happened was that I decided that Out was In (order). So I got dressed today. See – everything that I was going to do was canceled due to snow, including writing my Note.

Aside: The 14-year-old ambled in around 2p. In her pajamas. “Huh. You’re home?” Yeesss. “School was canceled?” Yeesss. That makes sense. There is, like, six inches on the ground. It reminded me of the time Kate was in third grade, probably, and she was waiting on the school bus at the end of our Michigan driveway. Mooomm, I don’t think there’s school today! “What? Of course there is.” Noooo, no one is going to school today. “Well, even if no one else goes to school today, YOU are.” She comes in fifteen minutes later. Seems a lady stopped and told her school was delayed a couple of hours for fog. So hard to believe that state calls themselves Wolverines. Or worse, Spartans.

So I walk outside. Or look outside, rather, from the garage door. I cannot wear these boots. They’re cute and suede. I promptly had to make changes which, because I love (me, you) so much, I’m going to show and tell.

The Slouchy Boots became Kamiks. We all need Kamiks. Smart-looking and weather-proof. Not warm, but you’re not walking a great distance, are you? Love my Kamiks.

The purse was changed after I got home. I noticed water spots on my bag while I was out. Because I adore this Brandy-brown B. Makowsky Rebel bag, this is unacceptable. The snow on my Kamiks melted, my purse touched my Kamiks, and I got to thinking, “What if the snow/melty-stuff/water had … salt in it from the salt-trucks?” I love this bag too much to risk unknown harm. So I’ve now transferred all my worldly goods to this purple suede bag which I picked up for $15.00 when I was Christmas shopping at Coldwater Creek for the older¹ people in my life. Fif-teen dollars. It’s $48.99 at the Outlet right now.

There would have been something wrong with this purse with that outfit, though. It’s hard to see, but I am sporting a purple sweater dress.² I just fill it out more than the woman with beautiful long hair and fifty-nine-inch-long legs. And I don’t wear that ridiculous scarf and not just because a scarf around my hips looks ridiculous. Oh, go have a kid whydoncha. And don’t carry a purple bag with that dress. This Simply Vera Wang ruched clutch in burgundy would have been a sharp choice. Man, I love that bag too . . . .

I don’t know what is up with me today, but maybe it’s passed. I need a new WordPress post category like Something Shiny or Manic Moments.

(PS) Is my “I am supposed to be writing an opening, closing, direct, cross, cross, direct, and Note” showing?

(PPS) I solemnly swear to clean that mirror one of these days.

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¹ There is nothing wrong with Coldwater Creek, per se. But you have to admit that if you are not very, so very I’m unwilling to do it, picky, you will look like you are headed to the nursing home, not as a visitor. I kid, ha ha. <- that is for my dear Gina who loves Coldwater Creek and asked me “What is wrong with Coldwater Creek?” when I saw her at Christmas. Stick with their solids and they have some very, um, solid choices. But all that print old-woman stuff? My own PSA – skip it.

² My gay friend doesn’t like this dress – he’s “not a fan” of the tunic and tights look. “Honestly? It makes your hips look bigger than they are. Andthey’renotthatbig.” Why doesn’t he just shut up and stay out of my head?

What Rocks My (Consumer) World: the one that overuses the word “amazing”

I want to complain out loud, right now, but I’m not. Because I’m going to read at least three articles for my Note and organize my iCal and my Google calendar. I do not have time to complain. About the kid who “has style, it’s just not yours” which is said while she’s dressed head-to-toe in an outfit I put together for her, half of which is mine. Or should be. Lately I’ve been channeling Joan Jett, which goes very well with this child’s style. Sure, she doesn’t like or wear everything I do, but I know her style. She robs my closet.

I let her try on my Victoria’s Secret Blue London pencil jeans (because if I see one more American Eagle swoosh-like thing on a back pocket I will burn my own), and I proceeded to put together her current outfit: the great Miss Sixty faux-leather motorcycle jacket (that I can borrow and I thought would look amazing on her and it does), her long sleeved black tee (I have my own already, thanks), and new (Thanks to who? Me. Yes, me.) short-sleeved Brad Butter tee to go over that. I suggested the black knee-high boots with tucked-in jeans and my burgundy multi-strand necklace. I would wear this outfit – and might I say that we both look good in it.

I similarly brought this child home a white long-sleeved tee with a black “I’m in love with a fictional vampire” short-sleeved tee to go over it (I’m totally borrowing this, I don’t care how ubiquitous it is) and a Tryst brown and aqua long-sleeved tie-dyed tee . . . mmm, no. That is now mine. I look good in that shirt. With my brown scrunch knee-high boots? Give me back the Blue Londons.

Clearly, my point is that I have great style I am the definition of über-hip she’s just unthinkingly reactionary as are all 14-year-olds you don’t define your style as Anti-Mom while you are dressed in your mom’s stuff. Moron. But I’m not complaining. It gives her something to say and sometimes (read: never) she’s just too quiet. I just hope she looks good today and tomorrow. (And I know she will, because I freaking dressed her.)

However, what rocks my Consumer World today is the point of this post:

(1) Sherlock Holmes. This is an enjoyable movie. Do it again, Guy. Do it again.

(2) My new coat. I can’t stop touching it. It is in charcoal and It. Is. To. Die. For.

Aside, from Dinner at Eight, Frasier:

Niles Crane: Oh, oh-oh-oh, the food is to die for!

Martin Crane: Niles, your country and your family are to die for; food is to eat.

And then, like Oprah, I have a few favorite things:

(3) My B. Makowsky Rebel bag. I can’t stop touching it. It’s amazing. The leather. The hardware. I’m bringin’ back big bags. (To my gay friend: “Look, look: I look like Nicole Richie in pencil jeans with a bag two sizes larger than I am!” Gay friend scrunches nose. “This is not a good thing.”) This bag, though? Good thing. He’s an idiot. Beloved, but even so.

(4) My Samsonite Black label Bayamo Doctor’s Bag. You shouldn’t stop touching it. (I did not, however, pay an exorbitant amount for it. But I might have. It’s that amazing.)

(5) Mittens and gloves, fingerless (warm and you can still do things with your phone – what is not to love?) and standard: long winter white fingerless mittens (like these), short black fingerless gloves, sorta long black leather gloves and I’m still looking for the right pair of opera length black leather gloves.

For the love of … It’s about information and affirmation of existing standards. Comforting noises, even.

Oy! Like all Law-Students-Writing-A-Note, I have Law-Student-Writing-A-Note Tourette’s. Halfway through writing this entry, that sentence – the idea really – begs me to write it down and translate it to a page and a half, if I’m good, of quasi-indecipherable language and like every Law Student who is only 17 pages into the 30 quasi-indecipherable ones required, I wrote it down right where I stood, which is here on this very page, lest I lose it. Or right where I reclined. Which is in bed. In pajamas. It’s very, very snowy out.

Oh look. It’s the genesis of Law-Student-Writing-A-Note ADD: something shiny! (Psst – it’s the hardware on my B. Makowsky. Yeah, baby.)