Utils in Bat Country

Magical shoes

The dream (Duchess Shinylocks and her LK Bennett Maddox wedges).

You'll never guess where and how much.

For want of sunglasses

Over the last couple of years, I don't know if my face changed shaped or what but I suddenly cannot find any sunglasses that don't make me look like a bug or like some sort of shrunken zombie.

I have one pair, aviators from Ralph Lauren that I got a few years ago from the outlet.  They live in my car and I'm amazed I haven't lost them. Probably because they were expensive (for me) at $70 so they pretty much always stay in my car and I only use them while driving.  Which helps since the way the nose pieces are mean I can't push them up on my head without causing giant tangles in my hair (super smooth, I know.)

I would like to have a pair I can wear when I'm out and about. And I feel like I photograph much better when I have a pair on (because somethings covering half my face? Surely no...) I've been checking at various stores over the last couple of months and have struck out at Target, Old Navy, Macys, and Loft. I don't want to go super expensive because that seems a bit unnecessary and also because aside from the car pair, I typically lose sunglasses within a few months of getting them.

Decent size, but not too big. Not boring but easy to pair with anything. Opaque enough lenses where you can't see my eyes through them (am such a spy).  Basically, I'm goldilocks when it comes sunglasses.

I'm stumped. Any suggestions?

At the races

Tass' next door neighbor and I have become friends and we were hanging out a few days ago and were talking about the Triple Crown and I mentioned that I'd never been to any of the events but wanted to go to Preakness since am now conveniently located.  She said Preakness was on her 30 to do in 30 list and once we both clarified that we were of the attend in fancy dresses and hats mind and not the drunken infield one, we squealed and made plans to go. 

And now tickets and parking have been procured - yay!

I think I'm going to wear my blue Pezza dress but am debating what to do as far as headwear. It seems that the Derby is the most floppiest of floppy hat events so perhaps I can go the fascinator route? Something with peacock feathers perhaps? Or would that be a hat faux pas? 

On Sunday we stood out on our respective porches and modeled possible outfits. My gingerbread socks looked amazing against the blue :)  The neighbors were very confused. 

Now this is fun outfit planning.

Nail Polish Review

Most of my nail polish collection is the typical mix of OPI, Essie, and Butter London. But, for the super trendy shades, I typically look for one of the cheaper drug store brands.

While wandering Target I eyed various minty and sparkly shades and ended up grabbing a bottle of Sally Hansen Xtreme Wear in Mint Sorbet and a rose glitter shade of Revlon in Sparkling.  And, thus far, they're both outperforming my more expensive brands. I applied two coats on Sunday (pink glitter on my ring fingers because I like to sport the same manicures as all the 12 yr olds wandering the streets) and with days filled with typing, cooking, all sorts of things involving nails, and I have zero chips. And this is with no top coat. I'm kind of amazed. (And perpetually tempted to chip it off myself because there's something bizarrely satisfying about peeling off nail polish.)

Best of all, the Sally Hansen was only $2.79.  

Two (delightfully pretty) thumb(nail)s up!

La dee bla, disclaimer, I paid for all nail polish out of my own pocket.

Bottoms, again

Of course, 3 days after my full price pants purchase spree, Old Navy has stuff and save with 30% off your purchase.  Since I'm here in NJ house/pet sitting, I made the much easier drive and I'm pretty sure I managed to repurchase everything from last weekend. Thanks to the sale, for a net increase of $25 I was able to repurchase everything from last week plus 2 skirts, lounge pants, a cardigan, 3 pairs of flip flops and a shirt.

This round to me, Old Navy!

(so long as I actually return the original set)

Final Sale: Agony and Ecstasy

(Shopping is very dramatic, don't ya know)

Even though it was the dreaded final sale, with the 30% off incentive, I caved on a few things from JCrew. I figured that even though their sizing has become rather generous over the years, it's mostly consistent so I felt pretty comfortable ordering some never before tried on pieces.

Oh, ha, JCrew, hahaHA.

Two shirts, both size xs fit well.  One belt, size s/m had to streeeetch but is definitely workable. One skirt, size 4 that definitely needs me to stop eating bags of candy.  It's my goal piece? 

And the pants. Like I said earlier in the week, I've had a need for properly attired bottoms. They had the cafe capri's (in bright dahlia!) in a 4 and an 8. Debated over the 4, took a look at my backside in the mirror, sighed over the loss of the 6 and ordered the 8. No problems, just a smidge on the big side but like my co-worker who has them said they're cut relatively slim so sizing up from a 6 just means they lay nicer on me. I also threw in for fun, bright orange sailor pants. For some reason, I thought they were linen and they only had a 10 but I figured they'd be easy enough to alter. But no. Not only are they a heavy cotton material, suckers are tiiiight. The 10 barely zipped. Hooray for ordering the proper size but my sizing consistency theory is pretty much blown out of the water.

But you don't try on purses or jewelry... 

:)

Bottoms, accomplished

ish.

One of the sad consequences of moving with only some of my possessions is that many of my clothes are still in Michigan.  While I'm logical enough to not be all mah baybees about it, there must have been a bag mixup because the majority of my bottom pieces are of the older, run down, ridiculous type and not the professional, fitting, unfaded kind.

And, while all my MI coworkers were properly attired and we all cleaned up rather nicely, the amount of effort I had to put in to be the 'stylish' one in the office was relatively minimal. And now, things are different. The other girls in the office are all very put together and stylish.  There isn'tr a dress code per se, aside from presentation days, but the others in the office are pretty dressy.  Since my morning routine has dwindled down to deodarant and brush teeth, I'm pretty much the office hobo.

To try and redeem myself, I decided to set out for Old Navy.  Seemed easy enough to get to, no tolls, excellent.  And I had a return from online so I had a reason to go anyway. Even though I had looked on the map, I grabbed my gps because why not. Get my money's worth.  Hope in the car, try to look up Old Navy and the location I'm thinking of doesn't come up.  Fine. Go to plug in the address and it doesn't recognize the address and tries to send me to an entirely wrong area of I don't even know where. But! Am intelligent, it seemed easy enough, surely I can get to Old Navy without help of the robotic voice. Head out on the highway, promptly get stuck in annoying traffic.  No accident, no construction, just cars cars everywhere. Find the exit, and the map had said go a mile and turn on a street. Start driving and see that the first light is the street that the store is on.  Hm. I decided to flout the map and use common sense and turned. Drove down the road, don't see a sign, suddenly leave the store section of the town and get to the end of the road. Turn left, figure I'll turn around except the only road to turn on is some two lane road with no turnoffs.  I just want reasonably priced pants! Manage to turn around, head back down the road, figure I'll turn in at the barnes and noble and at least get some coffee while I figure out why nothing is simple and lo and behold, right next to BN, Old Navy.  Success!

And, in an odd turn of events, all the shirts I tried on, I wasn't thrilled with but the pants.. quite good. There was even a white denim skirt that made it to the purchase pile. Irritatingly, none of it was on sale. Was torn.  After the strife involved, do I really leave it all and wait for a sale? It is ON prices, so not totally unreasonable.  But, still. Full price is so hard to swallow.  Decided looking decent at work was worth $29.94 for black pants and checked out. Thought I'd press my luck and head over to Loft. Where of course, tops were on sale, bottoms were not and all I found was well fitting pants. Figured in for a penny, let's buy more full price pants!

And now the keep/return dance begins.

 

Oh, boutiques

On Saturday, Tass and I went out to wander around Baltimore.  I knew I wanted to go to Babe (this awesome little boutique) so we popped in after brunch and as always, I had my 20 minute window of willpower and then we had to leave because I would cave on the jewelry and things that sadly have to be left off the to do list include spending hundreds of dollars on pretty, pretty necklaces. (Alas.)

Wandered up the road and Tass had to stop into work for a minute so I said I'd meet her at another boutique across the road that we hadn't explored before.  I walk in and know within 10 seconds that there is nothing in the store for me - though in my quest to prove that I can find something to buy in any store, there was a super soft plain purple tshirt that I admired - as most of the merchandise looked straight out of 1982.  I realize that means the shop was super on trend but I do not want faded puffy denim jackets with sweatshirt sleeves to return to my closet.  Especially not for $168.  Since I had a bit till Tass would be there, I figured I'd make the best of it.  Tried to figure out the half leather, half spandex, gold zippered to make into shorts, then hot pants leggings, bizarre t shirts with hems so long in the back they trailed the floor, mentally cracked up imagining putting together an outfit to wear to my meetings and then it happened.  

Now, before I explain, I should say that Tass and I are both firmly anti-romper on anyone over the age of 18 months. And yet, whether due to shopping withdrawl or being worn down because of ubiquity or proving the Kool Aid theory, there was a romper at Anthro that I wishlisted a couple weeks ago.  I confessed to Tass and she shrieked and insisted it be removed right that second.  In my defense, I'd never actually buy it (well, maybe it if got multiple cuts down to $9.95) but it's become a bit of running joke.

So! Back in the crazy boutique, what should I happen upon?  A most ridiculous romper with paper bag white and olive shorts with an olive t shirt top and exposed gold zipper.  It actually wasn't uncute and I figured I could taunt Tass by trying it on and sending her fitting room images telling her what happens when she leaves me alone in stores.  Pop into the dressing room and realize that there are no mirrors.  Noooo! Thwarted.  But I'd come that far, I was trying the darn thing on. Wriggled into it, stuck my head out to make sure there weren't people around and came out to face the mirror.  Aside from not fitting properly, my torso wasn't long enough so there was all this extra t shirt fabric at the back, I just looked ridiculous. But I did critically eye the paper bag waist look and I have to admit, I wasn't entirely displeased.  The shop owner came back and started telling me how awesome I looked and what a great piece it was and I smiled and nodded and mentally shouted 'Lies!'.  Got back behind the curtain, put back on actual pants and heard the dulcet tones of Tass echoing through the store.  Obviously put it back on for her amusement and she wasted no time telling me exactly how much horror was coursing through her body.  The romper and I are just not meant to be.

Oh, boutiques.  Less soothingly familiar than Target, much more adventuresome.

(And that's even before we got to the antique store that had a two headed mummy)

Just rub me?

I love massages.  Lovvvve.  For all my qualms about not liking my personal space invaded (this is why I love weddings because I can dance without worrying about who is touching me.  at a club?  stranger danger!) I'd get a three hour massage every day.

For Christmas, Mom got me a package of massages and because I am overwhelmed by life, I used one on both of the last weekends.  And after the second experience, I've come to some unfortunate realizations.

Shallowest of all - the shop seems to be operating the A&F business model.  Put the prettiest, most dreamy eyed boy out front manning the desk and have the actual therapists be...not up to par.  Some are older, some still have the look of living in Mom's basement but none match the Bop magazine poster worthiness of the reception man.  [Ah, Bop posters. I had a whole wall in my room covered, namely with Jonathan Brandis and various members of NKOTB]

I should note - the two guys I was randomly assigned were absolutely professional and I never felt creeped out.

I could easily overlook the lack of swoonyness, especially when you consider that most of the massage time is spent face down or eyes closed, had the technique been stellar.  Alas.

It must be a shop thing because both therapists I've gotten used the grab a section of muscle and pull to stretch versus the make massaging motions with the fingers on the muscles.  Nice technical descriptions, eh?  Rotating circles of pressure on my muscles transport me to the blissed out land of finger curled relaxation but the pull and stretch method...not so much.  The first therapist grabbed under my shoulder blade and rotated me nearly 45* upward.  Bizarre. And sure, they tell you that this will keep you feeling so much better for longer but because I have no control group of how I would have felt without  you pushing down on my shoulder while telling me to resist, all I know is how good/not good it feels at the moment of the massage and this was bland, bland, unseasoned, bland.

And! I usually go the undies on route during massages and the guy on Saturday used the hip strap of my thong to twist the sheet around when he went to work on my legs.  I mean, more power to you for working with the materials available, but really?  I was choking back the church giggles during that one.

I usually specify that I like to focus on my hands and feet and this guy started in on how the tea tree oil in foot massages reacts with his skin so he does a dry massage and thus does it through the sheet but it doesn't matter because his foot rubs are really good.  Uh huh.  Lies! As my mind was still whirling away instead of aaaah during my so-so foot rub, I began thinking.  I know you used lotion on the rest of me, why would you not use the same lotion when you're doing my feet? 

I cheated and went on the website to look at the therapist's pictures and there are a couple slightly more swoony.  If I give up on total relaxation, the upward rotations will at least be more enjoyable if I can sneak in some eye candy.  Ohmmmm.

Darn you, logic

Ironic since I was waxing poetically about how logic and order gives me peace over on fb.

On Saturday, C and I saw Beauty and the Beast in the theater.  Now, I don't particularly care about the 3d aspect but the opportunity to see the ballroom and the library on the big screen?  Absolutely not worth $13. We settle in and enjoy our 84 minutes of animated delight but every so often a niggle of something would intrude and cause my forehead to wrinkle behind my cardboard glasses.

In Be Our Guest, the line is for 10 years we've been rusting but then in the prologue the voice over (is it you, Walt?) says the rose will only bloom till the Beast's 21st birthday.  So the curse went info effect when he was 11?  That seems...harsh of the fairy.

And Maurice.  I understand that the townspeople are sycophants and that you felt you had to rescue Belle on your own.  But you really couldn't have put on a pair of pants before heading out into a blizzard?  No wonder you end up coughing on the floor of the forest.

The whole Stockholm Syndrome/Beast is abusive angle never really bothered me when the movie first came out and all subsequent viewings and it didn't really bother me this time.  I guess I ignore relationship red flags for pretty dresses and books?  But it always did bother me that the Beast never fought back against Gaston until Belle showed up.

Really? You've known her for all of 4 days and you can't go on without her?  That part of relationships bugs me, in fantasy and real life.  Things happen, people break up and get sick and you should really be able to function as a member of society even if the love of your life isn't with you.

But I mostly feel for Phillipe.  Poor Phillipe who just wants to eat his hay but nooo.  First he gets attacked by wolves because Maurice can't read a map, then he makes his way to safety and Belle makes him go back.  Then he gets attacked again when she runs off and has to carry the Beast, who must weigh as much as he does.  And all he gets as a thank you is a stroll through the snow covered castle grounds.  I'd build you a two story stable Phillipe.

But, man, the library. And the ballroom.

Ridiculous quibbles aside, sigh, this movie is made of magic.