I got home from Orlando yesterday around noon and am in the process of being beat up by reality. Nothing serious, just things like empty refrigerator shelves, mountains of laundry, and other stuff.
In other words, I’ll be back tomorrow with more.
I have no idea how much fashion I’m going to discuss this week because I’m scheduled to fly to Orlando at 8:00 a.m. and have a list of all kinds of things I need to do between now and then.
1. Think about packing.
2. Do laundry so I can pack.
3. Decide what to pack.
4. Eat Mexican food since I’m going to be out of Texas for 48 hours.
5. Watch The Office.
6. Go to bed at a decent hour.
7. Lay awake and obsess over things I might possibly forget or that the alarm won’t go off.
8. Wake up exhausted and head to the airport at an obscene hour.
9. Get Starbucks.
10. Purchase some sort of periodical to read on the airplane.
It’s a lot for one girl to accomplish.
On an entirely different, but packing related note, I so appreciated the zeal so many of you felt regarding the Liz Claiborne bag at TJ Maxx. I was tempted to go back, but decided that I didn’t care enough to make the trip. Thus, TJ Maxx lost upwards of $15.00 that was theirs for the taking. And I’m also holding onto that cute vest for another week or two in the hopes that Caroline might change her mind. Although since she is so much like her daddy, I’d say it doesn’t look good for the vest. Which I guess makes me the loser in this scenario. Actually our Christmas card is the real loser because it would have been so CUTE.
Now for some questions.
1. Stacy asks: “What about bright colors? Near the end of the summer I picked up two beautiful dresses in bright colors. Both are kind of a jersey material. I love them and want to keep wearing them on dates with the husband or whatnot. Your thoughts?
I am a fan of bright colors. Not that anyone would know that based on the seventy-two black shirts I have hanging in my closet.
I believe it’s totally acceptable to wear bright colors into fall and winter. It’s more about the dress style. A hot pink linen sundress? No. Just no.
But a lightweight sweater in a bright color or a corduroy skirt in a fun shade? Yes. Totally yes.
2. Shelly asks: “I bought this denim jacket at Old Navy and I’m trying to figure out what I can pair it with. Will I be ostracized from the fashion community if I wear it with dark jeans?
Yes, you will be ostracized.
I’m just kidding. A little. Last time I checked there was no island of fashion where well-dressed members could inform you the tribe had spoken and you were voted off. Which is good because I could have totally been voted off yesterday when I was running all over town wearing faded cargo shorts with a hot pink t-shirt that is no longer hot pink. It was a sad display.
A denim jacket with denim jeans is a look that can go so wrong. I feel your pain because I adore nothing more than a good denim jacket (I’ve loved them since my very first Liz Claiborne version that got stolen out of my locker) and wish I could wear one with everything, but it’s a look that’s best paired with something other than jeans.
Try wearing it with a pair of cords or a skirt.
It’s also can be a great piece to help you transition your wardrobe into cooler weather. Layer it over a summer dress, add a fun scarf, and you’ve got the perfect fall outfit.
Or it would be darling with a tweed or velvet skirt paired with tights and boots.
3. Jenny asks: “If I were to buy two pairs of shoes for fall, what direction should I head in? I’m a mom of small kids, and don’t have much occasion to dress up, so we’re talking jeans most of the time. Not to mention, I’m pregnant and I’d rather invest money in shoes I can wear after this baby, not maternity clothes that I’ll just give away.”
You are a wise woman.
I remember that I couldn’t believe how many people offered me their old maternity clothes the minute I found out I was pregnant with Caroline. Everyone was so generous and giving. Of course now I realize that they just wanted to get those dang things OUT of their closet. Nothing is sadder than looking at a pair of black pants with an elastic panel that is totally shot because they were the only thing that fit during the last six weeks of your pregnancy.
My point is that shoes are an excellent choice. Just remember that your feet may grow during pregnancy. It’s just one of the many glamorous benefits. See also: hair falling out and crying for absolutely no reason.
If I were to buy two pairs of shoes for the fall this year, I would purchase a good pair of sneakers and a comfortable pair of boots. Of course if you’re not a sneaker kind of girl, you could always go for some sort of loafer.
Part of me wants to suggest a clog but given the fact that your center of gravity shifts during pregnancy, it’s just asking to fall over. Also, I can’t get behind the ballet flat. I know they’re in style, but they just take me back to a bad place that I like to call 1984.
That’s all the time we have today. Actually you may have more time, but I don’t. It’s not like The Office is going to watch itself.
Y’all have a great Friday.
I picked Caroline up from school yesterday and we headed to Academy to buy all manner of soccer paraphernalia since soccer season officially starts on Saturday.
Academy ranks up there as one of my most dreaded errands. Not only because they sell all sorts of items that God never intended to be camouflaged, but also because it’s located in the midst of the seventh circle of freeway construction nightmares.
We were in the far left hand turn lane waiting for the light to change. Once it turned green, we were able to move along at a nice pace while the cars in the lane next to us were at a standstill due to construction issues.
As we drove past the line of stopped cars, Caroline yelled “SEE YOU LATER, LOSERS!”
And in that moment it became totally clear that I gave birth to and am in the process of raising the same person I married.
Yesterday started out fairly delightful other than the part where I had to get out of bed when it was still dark outside to fry an egg and watch Caroline drown an innocent Eggo waffle in Aunt Jemima syrup. She got dressed with a minimum amount of debate over what constitutes seasonally appropriate attire (much to her dismay, this rules out anything made of velour) and made it to school before the first bell even rang.
After I got home I allowed Scout and Bruiser to drag me around for a few miles since it was a brisk 80 degrees outside and I no longer have to worry about all three of us spontaneously combusting from the heat. Plus I needed to work out and there are just some days where I can’t bear the thought of being tortured by Jillian Michaels and her hateful plank positions.
I straightened up the house, started a load of laundry, and finally finished reading the book of Job. It was a good morning.
Eventually I left the house to run to TJ Maxx. I’m going to Deeper Still in Orlando this weekend and was in need of a carry-on bag with wheels. In the past I’ve always just borrowed a bag from Mimi and Bops, but they are using their luggage this weekend. Gulley said I could borrow her bag but I decided that it was time to be a grown up and purchase my very own black carry-on.
I actually received a gorgeous full set of Hartmann luggage for my high school graduation. Unfortunately, it is dead to me now because that was back in the primitive days of luggage with no wheels when everyone still carried their suitcases around like a bunch of barbarians. Not to mention the days before airlines decided to charge people extra money for checked bags because it’s not like you’ve already shelled out plenty of coin for your ticket.
So I went to TJ Maxx in search of a bag. There were several of your basic black models and also a few in a very tricky shade of red that semi-frightened me. I unzipped some of them and looked at the various interiors trying to decide which ones looked like they could withstand the challenge of being filled with more clothes and shoes than any one person should ever attempt to pack in a carry on bag, yet said person doesn’t want the hassle of checking a bag and enduring a sketchy weigh-in process on a scale that’s designed to make sure that person is charged $50.00.
In the midst of my suitcase research, I happened to spy a really cute pair of black boots right across the aisle and as I walked over to get a closer look (one pair in a size 10) I happened to spy a darling little carry-on bag in a large black and cream checked pattern. I looked at the interior and was delighted to discover that it was hot pink with all kinds of extremely useful and well-placed compartments. The tag said it was by Liz Claiborne.
Well I had no idea that Liz Claiborne made luggage, but back in junior high I was a huge fan of her perfume that came in those primary-colored triangle-shaped bottles. And for Christmas of my sophomore year in high school, my mom bought me this really cool Liz Claiborne jean jacket and I had it for all of two weeks before it got stolen out of my locker. Which I forgot to lock. I guarantee that if my mom reads this post today she’ll feel the need to call me and remind me what a nice jacket that was and how I should have remembered to actually lock my locker. It was that tragic.
Anyway, the official Liz Claiborne price tag on the bag read $240, but we all know that TJ Maxx is all about slashing prices. Or maybe that’s Walmart. Whatever. I searched all over to see what my TJ Maxx price would be, but it was nowhere to be found. And neither was any sort of sales associate.
I didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, I’d found a perfectly serviceable boring black bag for a mere $39.99 (originally $180 retail!), but what if the price on the Liz Claiborne bag had been dramatically slashed and I could get the much sassier bag for only pennies or $30.00 more?
It was more than I could process. I needed some space. So I walked over to the children’s department to see if they had anything in velour for Caroline. That’s when I saw the cutest little vest ever. It’s this great plaid in shades of red and black with some tan mixed in with a fur-trimmed hood that is to die for. And it was in a size 7, which I figured might be a little big but it meant she could wear it for two years. I snatched it up because it was the last one, it was only $15.00, and it only took me three seconds to mentally plan our entire Christmas card picture around it.
Feeling rejuvenated by the great vest discovery of ’09, I went back over to the luggage and decided to take both bags up to the counter and ask them to do a price check on the cutey-cute bag. If it was too much then I’d just take the cheaper, but less chic, black bag.
I rolled my bags up to the counter, waited until the automated voice told me that register number two was now available and then made my way over to a cashier who was all of sixteen years old, clearly thrilled to be working at TJ Maxx and dealing with neurotic moms who agonize over luggage decisions.
Putting on my best smile and hoisting the suitcase up on the counter, I said, “Hi, I’m hoping you can help me. Can you find the price on this Liz Claiborne suitcase?”
He looked at it for two seconds and replied, “Yeah, I don’t see a price”. And then stared at me blankly.
“I know. That’s the problem. I wanted to see how much more it is than this black one.”
He replied, “Umm, it costs more”.
“Yes, I realize it’s probably more expensive but I wanted to know how much more. Can you find out?”
“I don’t really know how to do that. I just know it costs more”.
Well, yes. I can see how it would be hard to find a price on something that’s for sale in a store where you work.
I could feel my patience wearing thin, so I just said, “Never mind. I’ll just take this black one”. My desire for the cute bag lessened when I realized that finding the price could cost me minutes of my life and my sanity that I’d never get back.
But still, I’d found the greatest vest ever for Caroline so all was not lost.
Until she got home from school and I showed it to her, just knowing that she was going to fall totally in love with that darling plaid exterior and fur-trimmed hood. The only problem was going to be convincing her that she couldn’t wear it until the weather cools off.
She took one look at it, wrinkled her nose and said, “Does it come in any other colors like pink or purple because that looks like something a boy would wear”.
So unless I can figure out a way to fit into a girls’ size 7 vest, it looks like I’m headed back to to TJ Maxx later today. And who knows? Maybe that bag will still be there and I can actually get someone to find the price for me.
Or maybe I’ll have to get all belligerent and tell the sales clerk, “No one puts baby in the corner”.
I realize that makes virtually no sense at all, but I felt that I needed to say it in memory of Patrick Swayze.
File this under better late than never. You can click over to my Giveaways page to see the winners of Bethany Dillon’s new CD Stop and Listen.
This weekend was pretty uneventful unless you count the fact that Caroline spent the night, THE WHOLE NIGHT, at a friend’s house on Friday night as something important. Which I do. Because it explains why I spent part of Friday night rocking in the glider in her room wondering where the baby was that I just rocked in that same chair yesterday.
It’s also important to note that P was at the ranch and not available to make fun of me and my overly dramatic, yet charmingly sentimental tendencies.
And in my defense I only spent about ten minutes rocking in the glider. The rest of my time was well-spent watching the better part of the second season of Veronica Mars on DVD. Why didn’t I know about this show when it was still on the air? I can’t believe I missed out and now have to make up for three seasons of quality television in the next two weeks.
(Technically, there’s no timeline for me to finish all of Veronica Mars. I just like to have a goal.)
I also went to eat a late Mexican food dinner with Mimi and Bops where we experienced the loudest Mariachi band to ever grace the inside of a Mexican food restaurant, which is a bold statement. There was one overzealous trumpet player that I’m going to need to track down so I can sue him for the permanent damage he did to my right eardrum during his solo of La Bamba. I would laugh about it if I wasn’t so deaf that I just hear the laughter inside my own head.
Saturday morning I picked Caroline up from her friend’s house and we were home for all of seven minutes before it was time to turn around and take her to a birthday party for another friend. I’m going to have to get a new calendar just to keep track of all her social engagements. Although in all honesty there’s probably enough room to keep track of her schedule on my current calendar since the only thing I’ve written down for myself right now is a hair appointment at 4:00 this Wednesday. I might even put on some makeup.
I tried to get her in bed fairly early on Saturday night because I know how exhausting a day full of social commitments can be. I know I’ll be totally worn out by the time I get back from getting my hair cut on Wednesday. She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow so P and I were able to settle in for a big night of flipping back and forth between Nascar and the USC vs. Ohio State game. There are people who believe that being in your late thirties isn’t glamorous and to those people I say, you’re totally right.
On Sunday Caroline decided she wanted to learn how to ride her bike without training wheels. It’s a day I knew was coming but I’ve dreaded it a little because there aren’t enough Band-Aids and Neosporin in the world to deal with the drama that will ensue when she inevitably falls and scrapes her knees. After a few trial runs up and down Mimi and Bops’ driveway, I also discovered that there isn’t enough Ben-Gay or Advil to save me from possibly being in traction before the week is over. Especially since I promised her we’d work on it again after school today because I am an idiot.
An idiot all hyped up on Advil and lying on a heating pad.
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