So, I’ve had a weird week and a terrible grumptastic day, so I am going to be completely childish and self-indulgent (kinda like always) and just make a post about things I want for my birthday. That’s right, refusing to apologize for the things I enjoy. Suck on that. And then give me all these … Continue reading
Stuck in a style rut? Look to the small screen for inspiration. Add some drama to your life and prime your wardrobe for any situation a comedic storyline could throw at you. 1. Scooby-Doo Our gal Velma was doing color blocking before it was a thing. Show off that curvy bod in shades of red … Continue reading
So, when I’m not Facebook Tetrising my odd minutes away, I love to create fashion sets on Polyvore.com. The site provides a place for you to browse clothing, accessories, beauty items, home goods and various other doo-dads you might (wish to) purchase. If you’ve got the cash-money, you can use the site to locate things … Continue reading
1. Actual Spring-like conditions. Come on, Michigan. Rupert and I aren’t going anywhere if we have to continue wearing winter coats. 2. A frugal, fun, flirty and floral dress. Adorbs! Only $17.99 at http://www.target.com 3. Swedish Hasbeens. Clunky, chunky 70’s chic with a clickety clack soundtrack. They run upwards of $200, but H&M will have … Continue reading
As a youngish academic in English I should adhere to many cultural stereotypes. I should “use” my television as a decorative art piece and never actually watch it. I should sport shoes that promote foot health like a good pair of Birkenstocks, or a Dansko clog if I’m feeling fancy. I should revel in French film and have a taste for curious and inventive cuisine. And I should probably refrain from employing self-coined terms like “mo-mo” when proper names for such objects (“remote control”) already exist.
Although the list above is clearly exaggerated, it’s still difficult for me to not measure myself by an imaginary yardstick of academic propriety. Or by more general yardsticks like adult sophistication, for that matter. As a result, I feel ashamed that I consider Television a part of my family and that my favorite shoes are 4+ inches high and stained with the blood of tootsies intensely dedicated to sparkle motion. I feel guilty that I prefer watching the cartoon adventures of an orphan boy and his favorite pirate (they live in a whale!) to more edifying cinematic encounters. And while “Top Chef” remains a must-see program, I take more epicurean delight in mixing various other junk food desserts into my ice cream than in spinach foams and genius takes on ceviche (seh-whoochie?!). As for language, I love me a $10 word as much as a Rachel Zoe-ism. What’s a grown-up material girl to do?