rattle yer bones

(wait, that could be a compression of "Halloween weekend" or a fake-German exhortation of Friday afternoon glee: "Hallo, weekend!". Let's say it's both.)


aside from the pugs, of course.

My favorite part of Valentino: The Last Emperor, which I finally watched for the first time last night:
he seems to be chauffeured exclusively in a minivan- a forest green Ford Windstar. It's as if my mom is driving him home from middle school in 1994.


bleak house

Cribbed from Maggie at Mighty Girl: Home Decor for the Recovering Goth.

My own goth period* was (thankfully) short-lived, but the unendingly morbid part of my brain is screeching with glee at most of that stuff.

*My punk/ska and disco periods, however, were significantly longer-lasting. Somewhere there is photographic evidence of this. Thankfully, my parents do not own a scanner. Though I did cut a seriously Bowie-esque appearance for most of my senior year of high school without regret.


dia de los delicious

I walked by Vosges yesterday.

The fabulous fancy candy skulls of my dreams (and more than a little obsession) are baaaaaaaaaaaaack, and it's hitting every single one of my WANT buttons:
fancy fancy salt
shaped like a disembodied head

"consume within six months", ha. As if these would last longer than six minutes in my presence.


slush fund

I've been bitching about how much I want to get a pair of fancy Hunter rainboots for like a year now, eh?
Why? Perhaps because rather than the $25 I spend every year to replace yet another pair of rainboots from Target or wherever, only to find out at the most inopportune times that they have cracked (because you're only wearing rainboots if it's raining, and therefore daring the universe to allow cold dirty water to swoosh into your socks and make you miserable the whole damn day) and that no, superglue does not provide an acceptable solution with which to repair cheap crappy rubber rainboots, I should just shell out the $115 on a pair of lovely all-weather classic Hunters and get over the fact that I'd have just spent $115 on rainboots.

Yes, that epic run-on sentence was totally necessary to impart my thoughts on this subject.

tie one on

I love euphemisms for drinking and associated conditions. "Tying one on" at happy hour? Such a ridiculous phrase, and today, when my temp gig ends, leaving me high and dry for employment and income, tying one (or seven or fifteen) on is a necessity. Preferably while watching Gossip Girl and eating Cheez-Its and thinking about which of my possessions I can sell on Craigslist to scrape together a little cash.

V-neck, Old Navy; dress, Marc Jacobs; awesome grey
flats that are forever out of frame, Steve Madden.

Also, I love tie-neck pieces, especially this scarfy droopy tie thing from Marc Jacobs, despite its fatal flaw.
The dress was styled online very specifically to hide the fact that the front has an unfortunate henley-type button front. This deceptive styling lured me into buying it. Clearance sale means no returns, even when you realize that the front of the dress is horrific, so: this gets worn only with a v-neck or cardigan over it to hide that ugly henley placket. Not what I thought I was buying, but I do wear this dress super-frequently in its layered form, so not all is lost.

(The Fug Girls would look at this photo and tsk me for being unable to get my damn feet into the photo and accidentally cutting myself off at the ankles. Won't you take me to... stumpy-town?)


merit badge in preparedness

Boy Scouts do that, right? The "always be prepared" thing? But how do they carry around all the necessary supplies to make sure? I get the occasional comment on the size of this particular purse (coffee cup for scale), along the lines of "god, what do you have in there?", but it's only a small portion of the Always Be Prepared kit.

This is (most of) what I schlep to work each day. Add in an umbrella, coat, gloves, coffee mug, and occasionally a change of shoes, and soon the fact that I refer to this assortment of crap as my "island of stuff" will make perfect sense.

Aside from the purse, there's a tote bag which holds the laptop in its pretty green and bronze sleeve. I had a friend make this for me before I left Minneapolis, and she put a "612" on the front to make me smile. Aw.

Bag contents: cds (Scissor Sister, Santogold, Beck), apple, granola bar, spoon (I don't know why I have a tiny spoon on my bag. Did I pack yogurt for lunch and somehow lose it?), wallet, program from "Walk of Shame" at Victory Gardens, pouch of girliness (lipstick, lip gloss, blotting paper, etc.), business card pouch holder thingy, checkbook, compact, big red leather notebook, hand lotion, eyedrops, sunglasses in case (note: I've been wearing my glasses for three days now. Why do I still carry around nonprescription sunglasses when I can't wear them?).
Oh, and there was a bottle of wine in the bag too, but I drank it. It's important to only buy bags that can comfortably contain a bottle of wine, since you never know when you'll have to pick one up and cart it around.

I shudder to think how much this all weighs.


tea for one

I'm fairly certain that the constant reminders from my boss that this week at my temp gig was to be devoted to moving things into storage and hauling boxes was subtext for you should wear pants. (As opposed to my normal dress + tights combo, that is. I'm not just wearing a sweater and heels to work. Propriety!)

The contents of that cup are not coffee, sadly, but tea. Tea has done nothing to awaken my brain this morning, so I'll continue to stumble on in a haze while hoping that I'm not called to function on a level higher than that of a confused puppy.

Navy cashmere, Uniqlo; grey jeans, Uniqlo; grey suede tall boots, Chinese Laundry.



I promised a photo of my swoon-worthy shoe find at Lenny & Me, didn't I? Oops. Forgot about that for a bit.
I think you'll agree that these were worth the wait.



Grey houndstooth dress, custom made by Carole Bruns;
navy cardigan, VS; belt, Target; greige pumps, Seychelles.

Almost everything here is a duplicate of something else/needs to be copied.
The cardigan, although a favorite of mine, is shrinking quickly and attracting more than its fair share of lint and cat hair and other unsightly debris, so it needs to be replicated soon in a more useful/less wonky form.
The dress was made by my Minneapolis seamstress for custom work, Carole Bruns (ok, her website is not so great, but she is absolutely amazing)- I brought in a disintegrating vintage wool sheath dress to her a few years ago and asked her to make copies for me in several fabrics. And yes, Jen, it has pockets. I also had her eliminate the back walking pleats, so this is nearly a wiggle dress: a little dash of extra hotness never hurt an otherwise practical and work-worthy wool sheath dress, yes?
And the heels have been purchased in two colors, because I love them so and they are perfect.



I do not get it when people remark on my outfit and say "oooh, you're so dressed up!"
Not really. Not at all. Do you realize how much easier it is to get dressed in the morning when you just slip into a dress? One-stop shopping, people. Wearing pants means that I have to find a belt, and that belt has to coordinate with the shoes, and what shirt can I wear with these pants, and does it need to be tucked in, and what if the shoes that go with this shirt don't work with these pants, and so forth.
Wearing a dress? Dress, shoes, potential jewelry if you're fancy, and done.

This was especially needed this morning, when I got up at 4:00 a.m. (yes, you read that right) to be at work at 6:15 a.m. for a big special event that started before 7:00. A dress is the only right choice to make at dark o'clock.

Brown tweed dress, Ann Taylor; burgundy wedge-heel boots
(they are so, so comfortable, and they make me easily 6'1"), Aerosoles.

Kiss Of Death pendant, Culp Baubles; gold multi-strand necklace, Maude Vintage in Columbia MO.


i saw the sign

Apropos of nothing:

... one of my favorite businesses in Chicago.

Kiss 'N Tell is up there with the 1-800-R-U-MY-KID paternity testing storefront in Cincinnati, and the Midwest Gold Fronts emporium of blinged-out grillz in Minneapolis. Do Me Nails (also in Minneapolis) is also a strong contender for Best Signage Of All Time.


dreaming deferred

This is not a bed.
(This is a sad attempt at making a rather crappy full-sized mattress on the floor into something that might, at first glance, not be horrifying.)

This is a bed.

However, this is backordered at CB2 until December, so the sad, pathetic, only-maybe-acceptable-if-you're-nineteen sleeping arrangements seen above will have to be my nighttime setup for another two months.

I'm going to lie on my mattress on the floor until then, and drift off each night murmuring to myself about how lovely it will finally be to have a bed that does not suggest homelessness. Should I have ordered this bed (as my graduation present, eternal thanks to the parents for something so lovely) weeks and weeks ago when I picked it out? Naturally. But oh no, I just had to wait and bide my time and say "after I move, it shall be mine!", and then find out that everyone else in the whole world loves this bed too, and they bought it before me, and CB2 really hopes it will come in before December but I'm not counting on it.
Dammit. Commence making "waking up on the wrong side of the bed" comments each day from now until December.



I love October. Halloween is my favorite of all holidays- the costumes! the boozy cider! the costumes! the sugar highs! (I will change my favorite to The Meberg Stine Easter/Birthday Extravaganza if I finally get to attend, naturally), and fall smells so good (right now, my neighborhood smells like fall in Minneapolis, which is all sorts of nostalgically pleasant), and fall means boots and tall socks and pretty coats and elbow-length gloves.

Rust-orange wool cape, vintage; boots, vintage; umbrella, Target.

Navy wool shift dress, Paul & Joe Rendez-Vous for Urban Outfitters.
Note: if you wear this dress and a pair of heels to fly, and you're rolling
your red carry-on behind you, four people per minute will assume
that you're a flight attendant and ask you about departure gates. FYI.

Hey, that's not the same white wall with a window behind it from previous outfit photos, is it? No, because October also means new apartment, with a pleasant brick wall in the living room and a Blessed Virgin of Guadalupe-esque mark on said wall. Let's hope this apparition approves of my eventual decorating choices for this room.



Three consecutive items on my wishlist (Stuff I Want to Buy for Fall 09 But Cannot In Any Way Afford, Because I Must Pay the Electric Bill) are as follows:

Blue leopard-print tights
Studded motorcycle gloves
Thigh-high leather boots

I fear that these items are also on Lindsay Lohan's "things to buy today when I come down from the coke" list. Shit. Might have to rethink this.