The History of a Pant Leg

It was 1986, and we wore our jeans high and narrow. The waist went way past the navel, the pant leg should be as skinny as humanly possible. In fact, we couldn't get our pants narrow enough at the bottom. Everyone wanted the skinniest pant leg possible, so skinny your heal would barely fit through when you pulled them on. But for some reason, no one actually MADE pants that narrow. Sometimes you could find one with zippers at the bottom and it was proclaimed "totally awesome." Mostly you just had to buy straight legs and peg them. We folded, rolled, sewed, pinned, and tucked our pants into our socks in order to achieve the skinniest pant leg possible. And when we watched old shows from the 70's, we hooted and pointed and wondered how they ever wore something so hideous as bell-bottoms. "All fashion comes back around," my mother told me. "Well, I will NEVER wear bell bottoms," I informed her. "I swear it on my life."

In 1990 I headed across the Great Pond and inland to Germany for a year. When I got to school, everyone said, "Vy do you do zat to your cheans? "Cause I'm cool," I thought. "Duh." But within a few months I realized the Germans were not so into cool and that I just looked weird, so I stopped pegging my pants.

Flash forward to 1991 when I returned home and realized that it wasn't that the Germans weren't cool. It's actually that they were fashion forward. Because guess who wasn't pegging their pants anymore? Anyone. Good thing all my German jeans had been straight leg.

Somewhere after the horror of the fashion-dead-zone that was the 1990's, a retro 60's-70's look came back in fashion. The baggy, shapeless shirts of the last decade were out and tight-fitting baby shirts were in. Guess what else was in? Bell-bottoms! Only they were called flares now. And they weren't the horrible high-waisted type that went up to your ribs like the 70's versions, luckily. (Because nothing became so abhorrent to the child-of-the-80's once the 80's were past as the high waist. ) But I still resisted. Then just as I was about to keep my promise from 1986, I tried them on. And that's when I realized: nothing is so disgusting for a hip-heavy figure like mine than pegged pants. Flares, on the other hand, seemed to distract the eye and make me look far more proportional. Flares it is! My new love! Forget that silly promise I made in my early teen years. What did I know then anyway??

I lived happily for nearly a decade in my flares. The degree of flare changed slightly. The shape and location of back pockets moved. The waist-lines got ever lower and lower and lower until you were lucky if your underwear didn't creep 6 inches above your belt when you bent down. But still, flares prevailed.

And then came the horrible day a few years ago when I saw them: skinny jeans. I would have died for these in the 80's. The skinniest, narrowest, most tapered leg you've ever seen in your life. Matched with stretch material, they could be skin tight and you could still get your heels through the bottom of the leg holes. Only this time around skinny jeans were super-low waisted, creating the soon-to-be-ubiquitous muffin top. Only 11 year olds could wear them without waist fat hanging over the top. It was unlikely for most teenagers to look good in them, and it was hopeless for moms. Fine with me. I had already come to accept that flares were more flattering, and this new ultra-low-rise version of pegged pants was the worst of both worlds. So I just watched from a distance with a baffled expression as teenagers by the thousands ran out and stocked their closets with these super tight, super low, super super ugly skinny jeans.

But soon pant legs in general followed suit. I tried to hold out. As skinny jeans pretty much took over all the stores, and flare legs became nearly impossible to find, though, I had to adjust slightly. To the bootcut. The bootcut is not nearly as flattering to my hippiness as the flare. But what can you do when even Target doesn't carry flares anymore?

And then, last week, it happened. I saw these while out shopping...



"The High-rise Retro Flare" A.K.A, the bell-bottom. I don't know what to think now. I'm nearly dizzy from how fast fashion seems to be cycling through. I've gone from bell-bottoms to pegged pants to straight legs and back to flares, back to skinny jeans and now on to bell bottoms again! Shouldn't fashion cycle through more slowly, like every 20-30 years at least? Wait, has it been that long already? Well, still...am I really going to have to go to the high-waisted retro flare in order to save myself from the ultra-low-rise skinny jean? Sigh... so be it. Beauty is pain.

Thinking SwimSuit Season Yet?

I know, I know. It's November. 3/4 of a year away from swimsuit season. At least half a year away from spring break/I-might-go-somewhere-warm-where-I-might-need-a-swimsuit season. But if you wait until either of those two to look for a swimsuit you'll find A)high season prices and B)most likely the best selection is long gone.


Soooo....

I just got a 50% code for Hapari Swimwear. They make really cute, modest tankinis (Jr's sizes too, in case you have a tween/teen). I usually spend all summer lusting after them but not being willing to shell out full price. As of today, I THOUGHT AHEAD. Or shopped ahead, I guess, and got myself a cute tankini for next year. Bring on the spring break trip to Cancun!

Or maybe I'll have a baby. Whichever.




FYI, if you don't see the code on their home page, it's "fall50."

Chewable Jewels

Anyone heard of these? They are chew toys for babies made into necklaces, bracelets, etc., that moms can wear and then let their babies gnaw to their hearts' content. They're meant to combine a mom's need for fashion with a baby's need to slobber all over her mother's pearls.

Crazy?

Brilliant?

Adorable?

Ugly?


What do you think?

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

This pie chart pretty accurately describes my life sometimes:



When I was a kid, my mom used to tell us that whenever we couldn't find something, it was The Borrowers who took it and hid it.

Well, I recently lost two very dear things to me. I guess "very dear" is a overdoing it a bit because, after all, they're just items of clothing. But one is a pair of the most comfortable shoes EVER. Born wedges--dark brown cris-cross straps and jute platform heels. I loved them. They were cute, perfect for so many outfits in summer, and comfy enough to walk in all night. The second thing was a kind of drapey sweater, the kind that are popular right now that come down to little points in the front. It was a bargain buy at the end of winter, impulse, not-even-tried-on. but it turned out to be super flattering and very versatile. And, as it turns out, irreplaceable since it came from the clearance rack. So when summer came this year and my Borns didn't show up in any of my shoe boxes, I was super sad. And when I misplaced my sweater after my dance performance, I was heartbroken.

Then, last week, on the SAME DAY, I found both! I guess cleaning out your closet to pack for a move is sometimes a good thing. Or else the Borrowers finally brought them back. Either way, it was a VERY good day for me. HOORAY For Finding Lost Things!

Uniformity

I just finished purchasing Daphne's uniforms for her upcoming school year at a charter school. Short and long sleeved polos, one of each of the three approved colors. Khaki and navy twill pants. (What IS twill anyhow?) Two absolutely adorable little pleated skirts. And a couple of to-die-for little jumpers. Apparently the darling plaid skirt pictured on the school's website is not actually part of the uniform. It isn't on the list. But I may get a few of those just because I love nothing more than a little girl in a plaid skirt with white knee socks and Mary Janes.

ANYWAY....after spending all that money on uniforms, I had to ask myself, are uniforms good or bad? You'd think I would know by now. I grew up attending public school. Then I went to three different private schools in high school: one with a strict dress code, but no uniform. One with a classic school-girl uniform. And one with a more lenient dress code, but no uniform. I also taught at a private school for 6 years and was the enforcer of a school uniform that whole time. All of that should, it seems, qualify me to make the call on whether school uniforms are good or bad, whether they stifle your individuality or prevent one's financial background from being so divisive. I still don't know!

Any thoughts? Anyone out there with a sound, educated, well-developed opinion on the matter? Or a totally unfounded, biased, hysterical opinion on the matter? I'm all ears.

The Swim Suit Jackpot

Because I love you, because I want you all to look great in a swim suit this summer, because I want you all to find an affordable swim suit, and one which you did not have to spend 1000 hours searching for, I am going to share my discovery with you. I was looking for a modest swim suit, one that didn't cost a fortune, and I HIT THE JACKPOT.

Modest tankinis? Check.

Three piece tankinis (skirt included)? Check.

Boyshort tankinis? Check.

Boyshort bikinis (great for covering up that pesky bottom half while accentuating the top half)? Check.


And if you are into bikinis, but worry about the more jiggly parts, they have full coverage bottom bikinis.


And if you just want a skimpy bikini, or one of those cutaway one pieces that only look good on 13 year olds, well they have those too.



Best part?

SUPER AFFORDABLE.

Two years ago I spent $59 for the top and $35 for the skirt and $29 for the bottom of the swim suit I wore 3 times before I somehow lost it. For that price, I could have bought four different bathing suits at.....


MARINA WEST (only available at Amazon, evidently).

Most of their swim suits are between $25-45 for the complete 2 or 3 piece set!

Go HERE.

And don't say I never did anything for you. (Just don't show up anywhere I go with the one I got, or you're dead.)



p.s. If none of Marina West's 157 options floats your boat, and you really want to pay 3x as much, you can also try:
Downeast Basics
Hapari
Lime Ricki
Shade Clothing (who may or may not actually have cute swim suits but I can't tell because their swimsuit model has such a horrible body for swimsuits!)and
Rey Swimwear (be warned--they have gaggy Christian rock playing when you first open the site.)

Oh, and Mom? Here are a couple for you...

http://www.modestswimwearsolutions.com/

http://www.modestkini.com/

It's All In The Genes

I'm a curvy girl. I inherited especially generous hips. And I don't mean fat (although there is that too). I mean bone. My hip bones are just wider than the average person. Then they have been added upon with lovely fat pads that are the very last thing to go when I lose weight. And before you start telling me I'm up in the night, I have done REAL SCIENCE to back this statement up. For example, I have several friends weighing 20-30 lbs more than me, and they all wear the same size of pants as me. And I have a few friends who weight about the same as me, but they wear 2 sizes smaller pants. Because they all have normal hips. And I have BIG hips. See? It's a proven FACT.

I've learned, over the years, to dress to my shape. I wear shirts that end in just the right spot on my hips to distract the eye. I wear pants with the pockets in just the right spot to minimize the expanse. I wear skirts of a certain shape to draw the eye to my better parts. And most importantly, I wear jeans that create the illusion of thinness where there is none. I.E. the flare leg or wide leg.

Now, if you look around right now, you'll notice that skinny jeans are "in." But as far as I have seen, no one looks good in skinny jeans, not even skinny 13 year old girls. (I don't know WHAT we were thinking in the 80's trying to pull off that look). And those of us with a decidedly more pear shape....well, it's just laughable. Even boot-cut doesn't quite do the job. It has to be a wider leg than hip to create the illusion that the hip is small.

So I live in a constant state of panic as the stores I've shopped at for my jeans and pants slowly discontinue their flare-leg styles and replace them with skinny jeans and boot legs. Heaven help me if they stop making flare-legs altogether. I might have to wear skirts all year long!!! Or, my mom will get her wish: I will finally have to learn to thread a bobbin.

As Seen In Nerdville

Sometimes you see something kinda cool on infomercials. Sometimes you see things that are minorly intriguing on As Seen On TV ads and you're almost tempted to order one.

And then there are times like this when the stupidest, silliest looking invention any geriatric inventor has ever invented makes it on TV. I give you, the Necky...



It's a fake turtleneck! (Not a mock turtle neck. That's a whole different realm of fashion faux pas.) This is like a dickey, if you know what that is, but for those people who are too stupid to tie an actual scarf on and too lazy to wear an actual turtulneck shirt. And/or who want to look ridiculous after they take off their coat. "Keeps your kids' necks warm AND keeps them from having friends!"

The good news is, you can also use it for winter-time train robberies. Bonus!

Ok, that's all I had to say. I'll catch you later. I'm going to go back to watching TV...... in my Snuggie.

Fifth Avenue Mom

I have a problem with dressing myself. Because what I appreciate in clothing and what I actually like to wear myself are two different things. I'm really a pretty casual dresser. Jeans, yoga pants around the house on a Sunday, long sleeved t's, hoodie sweaters...I feel very comfortable in comfortable clothing. I don't mind dressing up a shirt now and then with a little bit of frill or an interesting fabric. But generally, I'm most comfortable in pretty simple, basic clothing. But that's not what I like to wear...in my head. In my head, I like things that make a much bigger statement. That have more flair. That might be more fitted or more feminine or more fashion forward. It's just that when I wear them, I feel all dressed up, and not me. So it seriously makes shopping a nightmare. I see things on the mannequins or on the rack and think they're so cute. But when I try them on and realize I'm going to have to wear 3 layers, or heels, or short sleeves in the winter, or a girdle to pull them off...I usually end up putting them back on the shelf. I want to want to wear those clothes. They're so cute! I can really appreciate the style of them. But I just have a hard time, especially as a mother of young kids, feeling dressed up at home or inhibited in my movement (as a skirt will do).

So here are some super cute dresses from the Shabby Apple that I'd love to wear...





If only I could get to the point where wearing a charcoal grey wool pinstriped dress and platform Mary Janes was fun to unload the dishwasher in.

Sigh....

Skinny Jeans

The other day I did something kind of stupid. I ordered some jeans online. Sight unseen. Not tried on. Front view picture only. But they were on clearance, 50% off at store I like that was going out of business, so I just couldn't resist. But on clearance, they were still $45. Not cheap. At least not for me. I'm not one of those girls who will spend $180 on jeans. For me, the $60 I spent on my very favorite Express jeans was a LOT. Until last year, I used to only buy jeans for under $30. So $45 feels like a lot to me.

Well, the jeans arrived this week. And guess what? They're too tight. They go on (with quite a bit of jumping), they zip shut (with quite a bit of sucking in), but, let's face it--they are too tight to wear comfortably. I even got the larger of the two sizes that I'm between right now. But these jeans are obviously built for much skinnier girls. Girls who, despite wearing my size, are much skinnier than me. They have no fat on their thighs. No butt. And certainly no hint of a tummy pooch. These women that the jeans have been designed for are also 5'10". There's about 5-6 inches of jean below my foot when I put them on. And they're the regular length, not the tall! So yeah, they're cute jeans, but I just can't wear them. Only super models (slightly overweight super models) can wear them. And they can't be returned or exchanged. So now I have a dilemma. Tell me what you would do...

A) Find someone you know who can fit the jeans and give them to her as a gift.
B) Try to sell them online
C) Hold on to them and hope that if you lose 5 lbs, and decide to start wearing stiletto heals with jeans, they will fit you perfectly.

Thoughts?

Things I Learned From a Hong Kong Dress

The Good News: My dress has arrived! And it "fits."

HOWEVER...

Here are some things I've learned since trying it on:

1) Lycra, even encrusted in beads and sequins, shows every bump and lump you've got. Hence...
2) My waist is thicker than I thought
3) My legs are fatter at the top than I thought
4) My hips are bumpier than I thought
5) A girdle can only go so far to flatten out your gut, hips, and thighs
6) My boobs are flatter than I thought.
7) Actually, they are about like I thought they were, but this dress smashes them and makes them look flatter than they are.
8) I might have to get some chicken cutlets.
9) There's a reason why dresses from China are so cheap. The beading isn't sewed on super strong. I better remember not to cha-cha too fast or they might fly off! (The beads, not the cutlets.)
10) My legs need to look more tan.
11) You can buy spray on panty-hose.
12) I wish my legs looked sexier. Higher heels make your legs look sexier. Lower heels mean I might not fall on my butt. I'll probably take the higher heels.
13) I think I need to glam up my performance-look a bit. You know, hairspray, jewelry, body glitter.... But I'm not sure how far to go. There's a fine line between hot and hooker.
14) I don't care about 1-13. I'm so excited about this dance competition I could be 8 months pregnant and wearing a garbage bag and I'd have fun!

Only two weeks to go!


p.s. Once I experiment with push-up, flatten-out, batten-down undergarments for a while, I'll do some pictures of me in the dress.

Oh, and after I perfect my facial rhinestones.



(Thank you, Miss Tina Spaahkle)

We Have a Winner

I have decided, after careful consideration, to go with this dress...



Thank you all for your votes. Most of you won. Some of you chose poorly. I'm sorry for your misguided taste in latin competition dance clothing.

Also, I've decided to stay with the gold, as pictured, rather than doing the hot pink as originally described. For one thing, the gold dress will go better with my shoes, which are gold. For another thing, the pink one is no longer listed. That swayed my vote just slightly in favor of the gold as well.

Now I have to find out if I can get it shipped to me all the way from Timbuktu (otherwise known as Hong Kong) in time. I only have slightly over 3 weeks. The shipping info says it takes 10-16 business days. That cuts it very close. If it doesn't come in time, well, I guess I'll be dancing in this, which I can whip up out of multi-colored garbage bags in about 4 minutes flat:



Do I risk it ordering it and hope it arrves?

Of course, I could also pay for expedited shipping, which pretty much doubles the price of the dress.

Hmmmmmm.....

Strictly Ballroom

I've been taking ballroom dance lessons for a couple of months now. It's a blast. My teacher, Martin, is very good. And I, as it turns out, am not entirely untalented at it. So last week when Martin asked me if I wanted to compete, I nearly vomited from fear... and then agreed. So I've signed up for my first competition. It's in Vegas. In a month. I'm going to compete in Rumba and Cha Cha since those are the ones I know best. I have a lot of polishing up to do. My technique still needs some work. But more importantly, I need to find a costume! So here are some of the (affordable) options I've found so far. And keep in mind that some of them are in their rough state and will have to have a LOT of sequins and beads glued on. This is ballroom dance, after all.

Please to vote? I've even given them helpful names to make it easier for you.


1) The Blue Cold Shoulder

2) The Red V-V (needs 8-10 lbs of beads, sequins, and rhinestones added, of course)


3) The Black Bea Arthur (Classy or matronly?)


4) Red Hot Chili Peppers

5.) Burgundy Halter (needs beading)
6) Black BYU

7) Yellow Barbie (the description says the dress is mint green?)

8) Caribbean Blue

9) New Jersey Crips (I would actually get this in red, though. Don't tell the Bloods.)

10) Hot Hot Hot Pink (I know this is gold, the picture of it in pink disappeared. but I want it in hot pink)

11) Double D Delight (I would need to add beading, obviously. And a boob job.)

12) Black Built In Necklace

Ok, so tell me what you think!

I'll be off practicing how to glue rhinestones to my eyebrows.

One Piece Or Two?

This is my new bathing suit.
I got a one piece this year because I do water aerobics once a week, and it's hard to do with your tankini bathing suit top floating around your neck. Ok, that's an exaggeration. Floating around your ribs is more the truth. But either way, it bugs. But my other suits are all two pieces. Long tankinis, I guess you'd call them. So I wondered what everyone else favors.


The once piece?

The cutaway one piece (which is big this year, I've noticed. I've also noticed that it disappears at the fattest part of my body. NOT wearing that one this year.)



The tankini?



The long tankini?


The ice skating bathing suit?



A boyshort bikini?


Do you dare the full-on bikini?

Or maybe this year you are thinking of going for the Stretch Thong, a.k.a the Super Hammock.


Do tell. Enquiring minds want to know.


.

The 80's Called. They Want Their Clothes Back.

FYI: This is NOT a vintage 80's picture. It was taken LAST WEEK.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? I wore this exact outfit in 1985. And I am NOT doing it again. I'm sorry, but the 80's were a decade that should not be repeated. EVER. Is it just me? Or does anyone else find their stomach contents rising suddenly when they see the teen fashions these days?

My First Hat

I've never been a hat person. I've never owned or worn a single hat. Not for real. Like, I've worn hats in costume, for plays and Halloween and stuff. And to bed, of course. (not really...but it would be a good idea for keeping your hair from falling in your face while you slept.) But I've never just worn a hat around town. I can't say exactly why. Maybe I just didn't grow up in a hat family. Maybe my ears are the wrong shape. Ok, not maybe. My ears are the wrong shape. Big dumbo ears, to be exact. Or possibly not that bad. Large pixie ears? Anyway, most hats only accentuate that. It could also be my head shape, or the fact that socially acceptable hats are generally associated with things like baseball, and rodeos, and Baptist churches, none of which I'm familiar with in the slightest. So I've never worn hats, for whatever reason. But at the boutique fair I participated in the other day (where, incidentally, I outshopped my own soap sales 8 to 1. Good times.), a vendor was selling these cute knit caps. Not the skier type or the bank robbery type. These ones were a large weave with a little brim, kind of full on the top. Sort of reminiscent of Strawberry Shortcake, if memory serves. But not as big. Or as strawberry scented, unfortunately. Also, it has a big flower on the side. I wasn't sure about the whole hat idea. But Kelli told me it was cute, and I like to believe people when they tell me I look cute. I'm a fool for compliments that way. And since it was also warm (and much more flattering than the bank robbery kind), I decided to go for it. And so far, I'm really digging wearing a hat. Not only has it kept my head dry and warm during the latest snow storm, but it has come in very handy for hiding my hideous sick-in-bed head the last few days. Win-win. So, tell me what you think...is it more Strawberry Shortcake or more mugger? Or maybe you can't get past the pictures of me as Dumbo still swimming in your head. Good thing this hat sorta covers my ears. Now you'll never know.

The One Thing You Hope Will Never Happen To You Ever.

The trees in my yard are not normal. They are odd. Different. Slow. Autumnally challenged, you might say. Everyone else's trees start to change color in early to mid October. By late October, the leaves from my neighbors' yards on both sides of me have blown onto my yard. Soon their trees are nearly bare. In the meantime, my trees are still bright green and haven't lost a single leaf. By early November, the whole neighborhood is bare. Except my trees. They're still going strong--green and bushy. Then one day in mid-November I will wake up and every leaf on every tree in my yard will have leapt to its death. My car will be covered, the driveway will be covered, the sidewalk will be covered. Every inch of grass within 10 feet of the trees will be covered, 3 inches thick. So then there is no putting off raking. It's an all or nothing occurance at our house. Well, this event took place last night. So today I got out my gardening gloves and rake and prepared to get to work filling 18 gigantic black construction clean-up bags with leaves. Let me stop and point out here that I don't garden like I used to. I really enjoy gardening. But I'm not that good at it. I get really excited about it in the spring, but by late summer I've lost interest. I no longer remember to water or weed or pick. So my garden gets overgrown and weedy and dead. Because of this trend, this past summer I didn't do a garden at all. My gardening gloves sat idle in a little plastic cupboard on my deck for about 5 months. Now back to my story. I got out my gloves and rake to start raking up the leaves today. I have these nice, bright green, suede gloves that I used to garden with. I put one on and tried to work through the stiffness it had from being outside in the cold. And then I stuck my hand into the other one. I felt something soft and wolly inside one of the fingers and I instantly knew, knew in the core of my heart, that whatever was in there was NOT RIGHT. There should not be anything wolly or soft or squishy inside that glove. If it was a wool glove or a cotton glove, you might expect that sort of fuzz. But not in a suede glove. So I shrieked and ripped it off. My heart was pounding as I looked down into the darkness of the middle finger. I could see something white in there. Just like sock fuzz. But I couln't tell what it was. I shook it, and a little bit of white cottony stuff came out. I stared at it wondering what it might be and figured it must just be some random cotton or wool or other unknown substance that would have every reason to be there. Just none that I could think of immediately. Still, the leaves were waiting, so I tried to put the glove on again. This time my finger made it a few centimeters farther. But then it touched more of the strange wolly mass, and my stomach lurched again with the instinctual knowledge that I should not be touching it, whatever it was. Finally, unable to bear the pounding in my chest, I got out a chopstick and started digging. And you'll never guess what came out. A SPIDER NEST. I stuck my finger into a fuzzy cocoon of tiny baby spiders. And their mother. I almost passed out and threw up in one motion. Then I threw the whole thing into the sink and turned the water on full blast. I began dancing around and shaking my finger and screeching as I relived the realization that I'd touched a spider den just a few seconds before. My husband came running into the kitchen, assuming I'd just cut off a finger or something. "Spider babies!" was all I could get out. He seemed a bit alarmed for a second too as he asked me where they were. "In my glove," I panted. "Dead." He looked at me for a moment. "Dead?" he asked. "Oh." Then he rolled his eyes and walked out, like sticking your hand into a web of dead spider babies is any less horrifying than a web of live ones. OK, maybe it is less horrifying. But only by a hair. Still, I wouldn't have thought this was something you had to experience for yourself to catch the magnitude of. But clearly it must be. I heard him mumble something about girls as he retreated to his warm spot on the couch.

To finish the story off (as if anything else matters after a direct encounter with a spider nest), I let the glove stay under the stream of water while I proceeded to beat it steadily with my meat tenderizing hammer. Then I let it dry out slightly. Then I threw it on the sidewalk, sprayed it with hairspray, and lit it on fire. I then had to run for the hose when the carpet of leaves nearby began to burst in to flames. But I got it all under control. The spiders are assuredly dead now. Dead-ER, I guess. My hand has been thoroughly sanitized, scrubbed, held under scalding water, and bandaged. And I will now go and finish raking the leaves. One-handed.