Yuletide Groove

Maybe this happens to every mama once their kids get big-the unChristmas spirit. The believing is gone, the magic subsides, and you’re left with a dusty, broken, and incredibly fake Christmas tree that no one wants to help you decorate.

 

Even you don’t know if you can muster the gumption to dig the thing out of the storage room.

 

IF you find it in your heart to just wrestle the tree up the stairs, you know for sure you do not have it in you for the rest of the yuletide paraphernalia you’ve accumulated.

And as long as we’re being truthful, you aren’t really sure if you ever really liked stuffed snowmen and ceramic replicas of Tiny Tim’s village OR if they just symbolized something greater.

 

The talk of “Something greater” always brings me here: nostalgic and wanton for those feety-pajamed little kids. A six year old would never allow this seasonal apathy.

 

Sadly (or not), finding a few more feety-pajamaed, giggly, tow-headed toddlers to play with is out of the question for us so I needed another route to find my spirit.

(Because the truth is, even these “reluctant to help”, non-believer big kids would balk if Christmas went ignored in this house.)

 

No joy would come of unstacking the 500 boxes of Christmas crap to get to that stupid tree, so I did what any resourceful person would do. Bought a new one; a fresh start for my holiday spirit.

 

Completely untraditional (and really cheap) tree that everyone, Big Mister included, thought was the dumbest and most unChristmas idea on the earth.

 

Behold…the chic, glittery, color coordinated key to getting my mojo back.

 

 

(flash)

 

(no flash)

 

 I spent the next few days, jazzed to get Christmas back.

I chalked some art for above the fireplace (thrilled!) and added nothing but a few pops of “red” at the request of the mister. No snowmen, no houses, no candy canes—nothing I didn’t love.

 

I do love a twist of the traditional, so I set about making small pieces of our family’s tradition visible; a little here, a little there.

 

Our stockings and my inheritance (a set of hand embroidered alphabet ornaments by my mom back in the 70’s that I was just given a few years ago) We used these as kids on our Christmas tree--I treasure every last letter.

 

 

The nerd girls that I've been whipping up, finally, have a place to live.

 

 

See? She's super happy to be living at the corner of Glittery & White.

 

 

And so is she...

 

 

It's a party under the tree over here...

 

Disbelievers and Freaks on a Whim

Christmas is over-I have a food, snow, and cooped up in the house hangover that I've been nursing with a needle, some fabric, and a little bit of fire.

Google Reader has been overflowing with blog goodness from all the "crafties" I adore--their projects and handmade gifts, the glitter, the bling. I couldn't stand it. These few days off would never come...Ah, but yes, they did.

My reward for wrapping all the presents was to allow myself the time to make these. Tutuorial here (yes, fire is involved.) These are so much better than pulling artificial flowers apart--you get to pick the color and the shape.. You get to play regular old Mother Nature for these.

I added tulle in between the layers of some of mine and of course, not complete in my world without some vintage bling for the middles.

I had a hard time parting with this rhinestone button. I often wonder what the original garment looked like that this was salvaged from.

The green looks sage in these photos--in the real world, it's a vibrant silky lime color.

I've been a sucker for rosettes on anything for the last year or so--if there are flowers, it automatically visits my closet.

I am fortunate (or unfortunate depending on how you look at it) to have some very close family (Sarah, this is you) and friends who- I'll just say it-think I am the biggest freak ever. (A freak in the most loving way, but still...)

They are just people who need to have a reason for things. They have no use for "pretty" without a purpose. Things cannot just "be"-they must have function.

I, on the other hand, have purchased dish soap for the fragrance, really gross salsa because it had a cool label, pounds of paper just because I loved the design, and a magazine subscription for a magazine written entirely in French (which I don't speak) strictly for the pictures. Yes, you can say it, f-r-e-a-k.

Well, for my loving sister who was sporting a Kum & Go sweatshirt (apparently, this is a gas station chain in Iowa) and reluctantly, my flower pin for good measure this Christmas AND my practical friend who just needs minor usage inspiration-a bit of help....

Yes, that's the First Lady sporting a flower pin, and the lovely Sarah Jessica Parker. JCrew also believes me and so does Anthropologie. These are definitely not "matronly"---(Sarah's word, not mine) little sister. Where did I come from?

If the flowers weren't bad enough, you can about imagine what Sarah would think if she saw these? I actually spent time "glittering" clothespins.

The uses are many--to hold your wishes. (Be careful what you use it on...)

A book marker? (Is that one word or two?)

A magnet to hold a favorite photo?

Pretty can have function or just be--it's possible. It's also possible that I may have a small freakish problem with aesthetics.

See you soon at the Market-wearing and believing in pretty.

Sunday, Again..ugh.

I feel like I should post, but I've really haven't a thing to say. Some random thoughts until I can muster something more profound to share.

-Attention Dog Food Manufacturers:
Why must we have to use a machete to open your bags?


-Notes on Importing Goods for the purpose of resale
* Don't.
*Simple ink pens fall under the Toxic Substances Control Act. otherwise known as the TSCA.
* U.S. Customs does not know what bunting is. They are also leery of item descriptions containing the words, "vintage", "boudoir", or "creatures".



Dear Target Stores,
You must stop placing anything that contains bling in the perimeter of your stores.

Who decided it would be a good idea to give bitchy brides their own tv show?
3 words for the drama queens-Get. A. Life.



Throw a load of clothes in the dryer. Wait a minute. Run outside under or near the dryer vent. Smell that? Divine.


Why are "titles" supposed to produce awe? Name droppers drive me crazy. Another 3 words I. Don't. Care.


Photos from the weekend--



The bags--loving the shape. The fabric line is "Love" by Amy Butler. Yes, a rather apt name.

Junk jar o' bling.

Attempt at a "creative" calling card for the Urban Market. Button flowers. (Yes, vintage.)

Get to bed--Monday requires all the energy one can muster. (Muster-word of the day.)

Random Peeves

I’m sick of the presidential races, my 401K is losing by double digits, the earth’s ozone layer is deteriorating and now Big Foot is endangered vs. mythical, and what’s my problem? I’m not doing much to solve the world’s problems. Bigger fish to fry, you say?


Random Thoughts of Peevishness..

-As a subscriber, a magazine should appear in my mailbox BEFORE it appears on a newsstand shelf.

-When purchasing online and some sort of “feedback” is optional, please leave some. Think of it as an alternative “Thank You” card.

-You go to bed early, exhausted with a headache. You’re out, the TV is left on. Three hours after your “declaration of illness”, your wife silently slips into bed and WOW! you’ve miraculously recovered enough to no longer be tired. Seriously?

-Please put things back where you found them. If you do not, then do not roll your eyes when I remind you for the millionth time AND…..the leopard scissors,yeah, FABRIC ONLY!

-How many ways can you mix ground hamburger, a Campbell’s cream based soup, and corn? I’m banning “Hotdish” from my house.

-I have to go here and I apologize in advance but really; honest feedback is a gift. Painful? Yes. Life changing? Potentially.
If you have, or have had, this hairstyle, at one time either: a.) You deemed yourself hip enough to pull it off or B.) Your hairdresser talked you into it.


(P.S I had it too, courtesy of Option A. and No, this is not a photo of anyone we know. )

Ladies, “Roadrunner Hair” is OVER.

“Roadrunner Hair” (I cannot take credit for the label) is this hairstyle phenomenon that looks as if you’ve been running at mach one with a bottle of hairspray clipped where your ipod should be. You’ve taken off, un-holstered the Aqua Net, and spritzed like hell to get your hair to stand up on end-only in the back.

This crusty hair mimics porcupine tines and emits subliminal messages to others that yes, little old you, has the potential to poke out a few eyes.

I am not a hairdresser (although at 9, I yearned to be one) and am, myself, growing out the “Posh Spice” bob. I have also been known to get the “cheap shampoo” lecture from my own hair guru.

I do know, however, that there is a scant percentage of women that can pull off spiked hair-in any form.

Those that can:
-Women with gray hair. The “spunkier”, the better. If your hair has grayed, you’ve earned it.
-Those that have artist or stylist anywhere on their resume.
-Those who can deal with a mess. Spiked hair is meant to be askew. If you fold your underwear, probably not a style for you.
-Those that can be stylish in both hair AND dress. If your wardrobe consists of sweats in every color and oversized sweatshirts, forget it.


This would mean that if you’ve none of the credentials listed above, stop the insanity.

Stop the roadrunner-it’s the same thing as 90’s bangs, 80’s feathers—it’s in the past. You’ve perfected it already-Brava! Now in 2030, you can help your grandchildren recreate the style for “Retro Day”.