Monthly Archives: November 2010

New Hair

Bangs.

There is something almost ideological about having bangs.  It MEANS something.  I’m not sure exactly what, but if you’re someone who has ever had bangs, you understand what I mean.  If you’ve ever once had bangs (I had short Bettie Pagers in high school and some college) you’ll forever toy with the idea of getting them again, maybe.

When you feel like devoting extra time daily to making sure they aren’t curling in a too bouffant-like way, or separating into the dreaded wispy fingers of bad bangs.

This time my bangs inspiration was more Chan Marshall but I think by going dark again I ended up somewhere in Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction-ville.  On the road to, but not quite making it to, Zooey Deschanel-town.  Which was kind of the original destination.  Oh well.  My bangs have an ideology all their own.

I’m pretty happy.  The hair is a bit darker than I love but it’s growing on me.  I might do some heavy-duty washing with Head & Shoulders to see if I can wash it a bit lighter.

I know I look like Winona Ryder’s uglier sister in this picture.  I’m okay with that.

My daughter hates Santa.  I’m learning to wear brighter colors and darker makeup to contrast with my new hair color.

Tan.  I also need to be tanner.  (Fake tan of course)

These Thanksgiving day photos were taken by my sister, in whose presence I get pretty goofy in front of a camera.  We also just had a dance party to the chimney sweep scene in Mary Poppins and were also high on turkey.

So new is good, and cold is new, and winter, and holidays, and new stuff, and that whole belief in the new gadgets you get for Christmas will change your life or at least make you do things that are old in a new way,  like wearing clothes with new hair, or running with new Vibram Five Finger shoes, or making breakfast with a new espresso machine, or joining your new gym.  It’s that coming back to school after Winter Break feeling you used to have; it’s you but you’re new.

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Toddler Fall Fashion Show

Since grown woman all over the nation are now dressing like toddlers, with leggings, big shirts and fuzzy-wuzzy boots, it’s no suprise that dressing your baby or little girl these days is as, if not more, fun than dressing yourself.  Tights, tall boots, sheepskin boots, oversize sweaters: the sky Children’s Place is the limit.  Time for a fashion show!  A small one.

I’m partial to the mildly kooky look for little ones.  A bit elfin, a bit layered and multi-colored.  You know the look…peek inside any stroller in Brooklyn, any posh UK prom, California City Minis.  I don’t do this look all the time but it’s too cute to resist.

Here Anna sports a hand-me-down from The Children’s Place and leggings from that cheap-o Target brand Circo.  Pink hair flower clip is just a drugstore brand.  Anna’s flower hair clips are kind of her signature look, as she wears one in a coordinating color almost daily.  Yes folks, she is 14 months and she has a signature accessory.

Bunny rabbits are especially loveable when you have post-naphair head brain.


This is a favorite outfit of mine.  The hooded sweater was a gift and it’s absolutely gorgeous,  not sure where it’s from.  The gray skirt with leggings (one piece) is from OshKosh B’gosh and they match everything.  The sneakers were a hand-me-down (yay for hand-me-downs!) and the pink flower clip is again, a staple of our life right now.

Here’s the shirt.  Another hand-me-down from The Gap.

Birthday party outfit.  Fake Uggs from Payless (no way am I spending $30 on shoes that might only fit for a few weeks if they don’t end up lost and kicked off in some supermarket somewhere first).  Same gray skirt leggings pants again and pink shirt a gift from I think Target.

Here’s her “I just got brought via luxury train car to the founding of Yosemite National Park and I wore my most sporty outdoorswear and only one layer of corsets!” look.  Or maybe that’s just what I think of, because I’m weird.

The coat is another hand-me-down, how awesome is that, the boots are the fake Payless Uggs again, the dress is an adorable pink sweater dress we got as a gift and the tights are just tights.  Pink flower hair clip power!

We match. Kind of.

Getting dressed is hard.

Flowers are fun.

Here’s another variation on the oversize shirt, leggings and boots theme.

It never gets old.

This time the hair clip is orange.  And the leggings need to be thrown away.  And the shirt is too big.  But how cute is she?

Here’s another birthday party, this time with an outfit reminiscent of toddler flappers.

This sweater dress/hat combo was another gift.  Can you guess the theme here? Never spending money to properly clothe and shod my own biological offspring? I do feed her myself, I swear.

Baby Cruella DeVille is here for the 1st birthday party.  She wants to know if you wear 1T or 18 months and what flavor puffs you’re serving this evening.

We ride ponies.  And we do it in sweaters.

More sweater dress boot action.

The moral of the story? I love fall clothes. And my daughter looks cute in everything.

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Thrift Store Thursday, Short and Sweet Edition

$5

The brand tag says simply “Lucia” and the materials tag is definitely Italian or Eurozone, with Euro sizing and 50% virgin wool and 50% man-made stuff.  I Googled away and couldn’t find any Italian brand called “Lucia.”  I can tell it’s a pretty high-quality item, which is how it caught my eye, since it’s so well-made.  Also, all things made in Italy are just better.

That was it, that was all I found this week. Short and sweet.  I feel like I’m getting bored of my local Salvation Army but every other thrift store is a pretty good hike from home (30 minutes or so+).  I wish we had flea markets, like I keep hearing from the Eddie Rosses of the world, as in, “Oh, I just stopped by my local amazing flea market and picked up tons of antique furniture for $1!” What? Where?

Any other ideas for sources to satisfy my thrifting cravings?

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DIY Design Attempt: Part II

Before:

Here’s the story of this salvaged shelving unit.

During:

I taped off the chalkboard insets.

Then I spray-painted a gray primer, and then a color called “Oil Rubbed Bronze.”  Why did I spray paint? That was dumb. I should have just painted the thing.

Oh, well.

After:

No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get the paint not to crackle.  I guess I stink at refinishing furniture.  I think I will eventually repaint it with regular old wall paint and a roller.

In the meantime, the onslaught of toys is held at bay.

Well, kind of.  As you can see, toys are still over-flowing.  And now Christmas gifts loom on the horizon…

I still kind of like it.  I can’t really decorate the top too much because of the toddler factor, but maybe I will get some more decorative boxes with tops.

When I repaint it I might use some of the leftover light blue wall paint, Polar Sky by Benjamin Moore.  It could be interesting to have a furniture piece the color of the room’s walls, especially since this piece is up against the one white wall in the room.

Or maybe I’m just crazy.

I’ll do better next time.

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Stay Sweet

So having been horrified and disturbed yet drawn like the voyeuristic moth I am to the flame of Sister Wives, in my research googling on polygamy I learned about Carolyn Jessop’s memoir Escape, which I read in about 1.5 days.  Now I live in the environs of New York City.  When Brigham Young was trekking into the forsaken desert of Utah (or whichever prophet that was, my knowledge is fuzzy) my ancestors were inventing tomato sauce out of New World tomatoes in Sicilian and Neapolitan dirt and stone urban alleyways, and trying to figure out a 465th way to cook a potato on some windswept cliff in Western Ireland.  In other words, I had never met a Mormon in my life until I married my husband who had a Mormon aunt!  And about 12 Mormon cousins!  And they have like 45 children between them already!  I had learned about them from TV, sure: they seemed disproportionately represented on such trauma-laden shows as Intervention on A&E.  They seemed to have a preponderance for leaving the faith and becoming drug addicts rejected by their families.  Oh, I guess I knew a Mormon once.  She was a graduate student in English teaching a Literature survey class I had in college.  Sure, she was a born-again lesbian liberal academic but there was something so blond and chipper and wholesome about her, that when she delighted in telling us the story, for the umpteenth time, about her sheltered upbringing and experience at Bringham Young University and how she wasn’t allowed to kiss boys or drink wine upon threat of eternal damnation but then she got married and divorced by age 20 and became a lesbian liberal academic, then her otherness made sense.  I don’t routinely come across people so cheerful, so polite, so youthfully bethrothed where I live.  I know mainstream Mormonism and FLDS are not the same thing, blah blah disclaimer.

What I’m trying to say is that, there couldn’t be a corner of the world more foreign to me than that really God-forsaken stretch of alpine desert or whatever the hell it is where Carolyn Jessop was born and raised.

As a side note, in the book Carolyn mentions how one of her son’s favorite foods was pizza.  Pizza?  They have pizza in this den of domestic and child abuse, this TV and book burning fundamentalist cult town?  Why, yes, yes they do.
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No review, yet.  Too bad.

One can only wonder how bad that pizza is.  I mean, I have some searing memories of “Italian restaurants” in the Adirondacks, sad shacks where some fried food and disgusting concotions of jarred ketchup-y sauce and spongy sandwich bread-type dough were smothered with supermarket mozzarella cheese.  I mean, that was bad.  What could the pizza in Colorado City taste like?  Yes, I’m fully aware I have terrible stereotypes and disdain for rural peoples everywhere.  Yes, I know this is why Sarah Palin hates San Francisco and New York.  I hate her, too.

Escape was a great read, if only because it was like reading an autobiography of a character from The Handmaid’s Tale…and it was real!  I definitely had a lot of moments when as a reader I was completely perplexed: so many narrative threads in the book are picked up, then dropped, and there are many holes and unexplained details.  I had about a thousand questions and I wished she had had a better editor.  One minute they were starving and eating home grown vegetables for dinner because Merrill Jessop gave his wife-slaves no money for food and the next Carolyn was selling cosmetics and making a ton of money on the sly.   There were so many head-scratching moments but as a triumphant story of overcoming a horrific oppression, I would recommend it.

And now I have no choice but to be completely, utterly obsessed by the FLDS and its peculiar and distinctive brand of bizarre and horror.  Who else is with me?  I know you’re out there, watching those Anderson Cooper interviews of the members with me…

This is hilarious.

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Being a Sunshine

I know I’ve spent a lot of time on this blog complaining about my daughter’s bad sleeping and other stressors associated with being her primary care-taking parent, and I feel like overall I’ve barely expressed the amazement and in-love of my days with Anna.

Not that I’m going to forget any time soon.  How could 15 months not be 15% percent more hilarious and gorgeous than 14 months, when it seems every week bring more delightful mannerisms, funny words, and a shocking increase in her toddler beauty?

I mean, she’s the Arm & Hammer baby for God’s sake.

And that was when she was only 7 months old.  She’s on track to displace all Gerber and Old Navy models by the time she hits 2.

But cuteness only gets you so far (very far).  Personality and fun and a liking for hugging and kissing Mommy get you the rest of the way.  Charming all humans, amimals and some cadavers with pure sweetness is just a typical day for Anna.

She loves anything fun, happy, shiny, sparkling, musical, exciting, or new.  She loves dogs, tigers, lions and cats.  She loves people.  She loves people loving her.  Center of attention is too mild a term.

She starts the day by calling “dog…dog…dog!” meaning it’s time for me to come and take her out of her crib to visit Finn on my bed.  We cuddle and kiss Finn until he can’t take it anymore and jets away.  I find her in her crib after a nap with red cheeks, messed up bed-head curls, and a happy disposition.  If I leave her for any amount of time, as soon as I return and she sees me, it’s a full-fledged run and fall into my arms.  Happily muttering “dada, dada” since she calls both me and my husband “dada.”

If there’s a joke and anyone laughs, she’s chiming in with the world’s worst-faked “ha ha ha. Ha ha.”  If there’s something pretty, unusual, or interesting to see, she’s there, pointing her finger at it with a face of wonderment.

What’s life going to be like with a child like this? Fun, maddening, special, warm, cozy, happy, exciting, comedic.

Good thing I’ll get to be there.

When she’s not a cute baby monkey clinging onto Momma’s fur, she’s a little birdie, squawking and receiving bits of food into her mouth.  We ask her to show us her teeth and she happily sticks her tongue out at us (we don’t get it either).  “Itsy-bitsy Spider” is requested, often, with a command consisting of her little fists tangling about themselves in the air and a musically mish-mashed phrase “witsy witsy witsah.”  Grandma is excitedly anticipated at the door with an exaggerated peering around the corner and a “Goy??  Goy?? Goy??”

Life is made new.  Holidays, places to go…it’s like the reason the Thanksgiving Day Parade was ever invented in the first place is for us to experience it with Anna this year.  Could it have bothered to exist before?

Yup, that’s for you.

Somehow Daddy knew to make “You are my sunshine” your official theme song, and it couldn’t fit more perfectly.

Sure, there are the rumblings of tantrums to come, and if any small person grabs a toy you are into, you’re sure to yell “nonono Anna nanana” meaning “get the hell away from me before I push you and I will, I’ve done it before” but really? This is you.

 

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Since TLC Is Too Dumb To Do It, I Guess I Have To…

Welcome to Utah on this extra special episode… Blah, blah, blah, polygamist family members Kody, Meri, Janelle, Christine, and Robyn are going about their business, shopping at the local Walmart for nutritious foodstuffs for their many children (and probably some sexy lingerie for Robyn) when all of a sudden…

Yes, that’s right, we’ve been secretly filming you for a nationally broadcast season of Sister Wives!

Let’s take a look at the secret footage, shall we? 45 kids, come sit down and watch your Mommies’ big butts from unflattering camera angles!

Clinton: You guys didn’t even color coordinate!

Stacy: And Janelle? WHAT IS THAT? Did you steal a comforter from Sears and wrap it around your body? I know you’re the one who has to work outside the home and all but surely you have time to wear clothes and not shoplift your attire from JC Penney’s bed in a bag section!

Meri, Christine, and Janelle: We’re too busy to be stylish! We live in Utah so we can’t be all fashion forward!

Clinton: That’s not an excuse! Plus, it’s an exciting new time in your life, now that you have to sexually and domestically compete with the newest sister wife Robyn.  Don’t you want to look like the cool, confident, sexy women that you are? Robyn has embraced pattern, ladies!

Blah blah blah, let’s go to New York, don’t worry, everyone will just think you’re in a polyamorous lesbian domestic partnership, no one will raise an eyebrow…

Stacy: Okay, Meri, let’s see what you picked out to wear to your 20th anniversary dinner:

[IMAGE DELETED DUE TO HORRIFIC UGLINESS AND ALSO MY INABILITY TO FIND AN IMAGE OF IT]

Nevermind, this show is hopeless.  For the first time ever, What Not to Wear admits defeat.

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