glutton for...

I don't think I've eaten a meal that didn't involve me consuming at least one pound, if not more, of meat in the past twenty-four hours.
I am completely fine with this. Mostly because this dress has an empire waist.

Sweater over dress, Uniqlo; dress, H&M; knee socks, Uniqlo;
bracelet, Until There's A Cure; shoes, Via Spiga.

I keep telling myself that I'll somehow burn off those steaks by ice-skating tomorrow morning. Right.



Thanksgiving requires a drawstring waist. (And approximately seven French 75's. I am working on my eighth at the moment.)

Vintage wool/silk dress, via A Lady; cone-heel pumps, Seychelles;
starburst ring, vintage; non-rhinestoned ring, Allumonde.

This dress has a fantastic geometric knit pattern of diamonds and dots, and it was just LANGUISHING
in a suitcase under A Lady's bed. Thank god she is generous and gave it a good home, eh?

Of fucking course I took these photos before gorging myself on roast quail, dressing, cocktail shrimp, and sole meunière. I have some pride, after all.



That doesn't look safe, D.

You might have a point there, but I was seized by the idea that I had to replace the homemade chandelier in the living room with something more light-diffusing. I am getting very picky about flattering lighting in my increasing age, see, and then I saw this how-to for a ceiling-mounted drum shade, and yes, I got a little fixated.

one $3 drum shade, two yards of grey fabric, one yard of muslin (I think it was muslin? I don't know, I found it in the bottom of my fabric box in the closet and I have no idea what I bought it for), fabric glue, spray adhesive, two yards of twill tape, and four huge hex nuts.

How to:
Cut the drum shade down to the preferred depth if it's too tall. Mine was too tall. I was all ready to get crafty with the x-acto knife, but no, scissors worked just fine.

Iron the muslin and cut out a circle of fabric around the bottom of the shade, leaving a little bit of overlap. Glop on some fabric glue and adhere the muslin to the outside edge of the shade.

Aleene's Tacky Glue is like childhood in a squeeze bottle. I spent a goodly chunk of my childhood in the craft store/ in the basement gluing sequins to things/ covered in tempera paint.

If, like mine, your shade was not very pretty and had a bunch of odd stains on it, you'll cover it with a pretty fabric. This grey stuff was on sale, hooray! I ironed it (note: ironing TWO THINGS IN ONE NIGHT? My god, my ironing board has not had that much use in months. Seriously. I refuse to iron.), and then, in a direct contradiction of the spray-glue instructions telling me to use it only in a well-ventilated area, I just sprayed the lampshade with the adhesive and smoothed on the fabric. Is it perfectly smooth? No, but I don't really care. After all, it's like eight feet above my head, so screw it.

Hooray, almost done! Glop some more fabric glue on the twill tape to cover the bottom seam of muslin+glue+other fabric and edge the bottom of the shade with it.

(At this point, you may notice that your cat is freaking out and starting to throw up. This might be because you just used a bunch of spray adhesive in your un-ventilated kitchen, or might be because cats are weird and puke a lot. If you're me, you'll just say "ah, as long as I don't get dizzy or fall over, it's probably fine". Avoid stepping in cat puke.)

Take off the ugly glass dome cover of the light fixture and save the finial to screw it back on. Thread the metal post of the fixture through the lampshade's hanger part thingy, and shove three or four hex nuts onto the post to make the shade closer to the ceiling. Screw the finial onto the bottom of the post to hold it all together.

Yes, I am standing on an Ikea stool on top of my coffee table to get at the light.
No, I don't own a ladder. Yes, this seemed easier than acquiring a ladder.

Look, you have a new ceiling light, and it's rather pretty!

Man, I hope the cat stops throwing up soon.



Although this ensemble is, in fact, boring, I was strutting in it all day long. Something about these jeans just feels awesome (not the lycra-ed out skinny jeans, sort of slouchy in the right way), and in my head, I looked amazing all day. In reality, I just looked like a girl in jeans and leather wedge heels.

Dunno, somehow the combination made me feel six feet tall. Or maybe that's because in these wedges, I am pushing 6'1".

yeah, I should swiffer.

Satin-trim cardigan, Old Navy; tank, Uniqlo; jeans, +J for Uniqlo;
leather wedge heels, really old and of uncertain origin.


case of the mondays

I woke up this morning (late, which has become so normal that it nearly doesn't count as "late" any longer) with that awful scratchy throat and swollen glands feeling that says "surprise! it's fall! and you've got a cold that will make you miserable!"

I felt juuust not-deathlike enough to go into work, but not so well that I was willing to make much of an effort.
Shift dress: flowy like pajamas.
Cardigan: cozy like pajamas.
Thick tights: warm like pajamas.
Beret: disguising my dirty hair.
Bright red wedge boots: eh, these are just for straight-up vanity.

Wool beret, origin forgotten; shift dress, Ann Taylor; cardigan, Target;
boring tights probably also from Target; red wedge boots, Aerosoles.

Yes, I am standing next to a new phrenology head print. It says "The Picture of Good Health". Blargh.

Q: why are you blogging when you are sick-like, hmm?
A: shut up and make me a hot toddy.



Donating one's post-mortem skeleton to my apartment- now that, in its odd way, is wondrous friendship.

S: If I die early, not of head trauma: you may have my skull.

me: Yesssssss! In untimely death, you will complete my living room décor. I will not hasten your death for that purpose, promise.

S: Best not.



A smattering of the reasons I am newly, truly obsessed with PBS' new "Sherlock" (courtesy A Lady's generous hosting / having of a tv to re-hook my brain on the shiny moving pictures):
  • intro by Alan Cumming
  • art deco + Edward Gorey
  • tiltshift
  • possibility of severed head in the fridge
  • villain wearing Vivienne Westwood
plus that whole "socipathic genius" thing, plus the "limps, has cane" thing.

...well, we know my triggers, don't we?