Then and Now: Fashions For “Old Farts”

10 Jan

Ever since I was a teen, there have been a few things that have been a staple in my wardrobe, closet and makeup drawer. They are probably things that you cannot live without either. But as I move up in age, I notice fundamentals of these items evolving. For example, every woman needs a purse. As a young woman, my purse needed to be able to hold my money, a lip gloss and a license. That was it. When I got married and had children, my purse then had to be able to hold those items plus a travel-sized pack of baby wipes, hand sanitizer and a Ziploc bag of Cheerios. You see where I am going with this.

Even now that my kids are teens and my daily routine is totally different, I am finding that my must-have items are becoming less and less basic. At least the designers are aware of this because no matter what I need, someone seems to make it. Let’s break down my simple fashion necessities and what requirements they must have to fit my more “mature” life now:

  • PURSE

Then: Small shoulder bags in jazzy colors with one compartment were fine. Sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to carry one at all. Carrying a purse meant you could only carry one drink at the bar during 2-for-1 nights.

Now: Shoulder bags are frowned upon due to arthritis bothering the shoulders. Black or brown is fine. It must be able to hold a wallet, checkbook, ATM card, cell phone, pill box, lip balm, bottle of water and the janitor ring of keys. Extra room should be available in case there is a need to carry a small pack of tissues, datebook, two granola bars and a hair clip. Designer name not required but it helps to justify the purchase.

  • SHOES

Then: High, high, high. The more hooker-looking, the better. Brown didn’t exist, red and black patent leather were a necessity. Comfort was not even considered. Kinney’s was your go-to shoe heaven.

Now: Leather shoes work best because they stretch out and allow room for bunions. Square-toed and rounded-toed shoes work best. Pointed-toed shoes make your eyes water just looking at them. Peep toes are the new sexy. Black and brown are a must, grey or silver is now considered daring. Any shoe over 2” must have a comfort, no slip sole and a built-in cushioned arch support. Designer name not required but helps to justify the purchase.

  • JEANSjeans

Then: If your jeans weren’t tight, you returned them. Stretch jeans were best because they enhanced your figure. You lay down on the bed to put them on and you were fine with that. If you wanted them to feel snugger, you wore stockings underneath them. Acid-washed was your favorite color but anything tight would do.

Now: If your jeans are tight, you return them. Jeans must be purchased at the store because they have to be tried on—no two pairs of the same size fit the same. Stretch jeans are best because they stretch for your figure! If you have to lie down on the bed to put them on, you can expect to be there all day. Usually the classic name jeans fit best but if a designer pair fits better, then that will help to justify the purchase.

  • JEWELRY

Then: The gaudier the better. You watched Madonna and Janet Jackson videos for ideas. Your earrings were so heavy that you were told your piercing holes were about to rip through. Getting you ears double pierced was a luxury that made you the envy of your friends. Your bracelets were made of rubber. Your necklaces looked like Mardi Gras beads. If your jewelry turned body parts green, it was no big deal (that’s what clear nail polish was for.) If you didn’t get your jewelry at a “Buy One Get Two Free” sale at your local teen store, you paid too much.

Now: The shinier the better. Golds, silvers and platinums are the jewelry box trend. Styles are simpler and reflect the person wearing the pieces. Studs, hoops and chandelier earrings are most common. Necklaces are all lengths with varied pendants. Bracelets are usually flashy. If you only have your ears double pierced, you are considered white bread. Minimum of three holes in one ear (with diamond studs) is more the norm. A pierced belly button is now a common accessory at PTA meetings and soccer games. Any watch with two hands will work, but ones with diamonds have been said to keep better time so that helps to justify the purchase.

  • MAKEUP & SKINCARE80sgloss

Then: There was no such thing as the “natural look.” Foundation had to be slightly on the orange side and end right before the neck began. Lipsticks came in pink, hot pink and fuschia. Lip gloss rolled on and came in strawberry or cherry flavors. Mascara was in a pink tube made by Maybelline. Eyeliner was a foot-long pencil, was always black and always cheap. Skin care consisted of Sea Breeze pads and Noxzema in the blue jar. Moisturizer was only something you used on your hands in winter. If you went to bed with your makeup on, you knew it could save you time in the morning. Perfume was Love’s Baby Soft or Charlie.

Now: You have two looks—au natural and glam gorgeous. The natural look is earth tones from mineral powders. Chapstick with a shimmer is enough for the lips. Eyeliner is soft and smudged and mascara is minimal. The glam look is more out there. There is glitter on everything from the eyes and lips down into the cleavage. Eyeliner is blackest of blacks and mascara is thick and bold. Focus on skin care is a must. We will try anything…and everything… to avoid crow’s feet, laugh lines, wrinkles, flakes and sun damage. Paying $40 for a good moisturizer is not unusual. We look for words like Retin-A, peptides, SPF, omegas and vitamins. Our bathroom counter looks more like a spice cabinet. We go to retail stores that sell nothing but makeup and skin care, and won’t think twice about dropping a car-payment size amount of money to stay looking young. Washing your face at night takes 10+ minutes. There are perfumes everywhere that suit a person’s personal taste, but if it comes with a body lotion and shower gel sampler, a free tote bag and a pair of sunglasses, it certainly will help to justify the purchase.

  • HAIR

Then: No matter how big your hair was, it wasn’t big enough. Two cans of Aqua Net and a can of mousse per week was normal usage. Finesse shampoos and conditioners were the designer brand for routine care. Home perms were what you had done if you and your mom were bored on the weekend. If you mother refused to give you a home perm, you bought a hair crimper. You were happy with your natural hair color. That is, until June, when your locks drank Sun-In as much as you drank Iced Tea. When you realized that the Sun-In had turned your hair into dried grass, you tried to make it look stylish with either Farrah Fawcett side curl flips or a jazzy banana clip.

Now: Your monthly hair maintenance is as routine as your mortgage payment. And about as expensive. You’ve lost track of what your natural color really is because you can’t tell where the highlights begin, the lowlights end with the blending of the roots in between. Your stylist knows all about you and refers to you by name & hair color shade. (“Oh, hello Tina Redken OC8 Cayanne/Saffron!”) You can’t stand the thought of even a wave in your hair and you don’t hesitate to pay an exorbitant amount of money on a ceramic hair straightener and blow dryer to prevent any type of curl. You have bottles, tubes, cans, sprays, foams, gels, waxes and pomades in every nook and cranny of your bathroom and shower. Because your hair looks so slammin’, you save money by not buying hair clips, and that in turn helps to justify the purchases.

  • TATTOOStat

Then: You hoped the box of Cracker Jack you bought contained a tattoo that because that would have made you sooooooo cool with your friends.

Now: You are wondering where on your body you are going to put your third tattoo because your friends think you are a Cracker Jack for having less than them. You finally tell your husband you are going to get a tramp-stamp of the design on your wedding invitation tattooed on your back because it will make you feel that much closer to him. That surely will justify the purchase with him… Right?

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

A New Year of Resolutions….

2 Jan

champagneAbout 15 years ago, I was no different than most other people on New Year’s day. I made a resolution to change something in my life. What was the resolution I made, you ask? It was a resolution to not to make any more resolutions. Ever. Each year I would set out with one or two intentions in mind. Since I was 15 years old, one of those was ALWAYS to quit biting my nails. You can see how well I did with that since I made it every year for 25 years straight. The other ones usually varied between things like change my hair style, make a better choice in boyfriends, walk daily, a more consistent laundry routine, learning new recipes, keep in closer contact with my friends, etc. Things like that. Like always, I would start the year out good then somewhere around March I forgot what my resolutions even were. That’s when I made the decision to just stop making any altogether.

Then, something happened. The year I stopped making my ritual resolution of trying to stop biting my nails, I went cold turkey one summer and stopped on my own. It’s been almost 10 years now and they are long and strong. Sometimes I look at them, all filed and painted and can’t believe they are mine. Some people have PhD’s on their wall. I have ten gorgeous nails on my hands that I probably feel just as proud of. Other than me burping the alphabet at a college drinking party, it truly is one of my greatest accomplishments.

But the question still remains: Did I stop biting my nails because I was just ready and the time was right? Or did I succeed in doing it because the pressure of the resolution was off my mind? Hmmm.

Earlier today, Mr. Sassy asked me what my New Year resolutions were. I informed him that I don’t make them any more. When he asked why, I explained. Plus at this stage of my life, the majority of resolutions that are set by people at the beginning of the year don’t really apply to me. I don’t need to lose weight, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t need to get out of debt and I don’t need to drink less coffee. But my explanation wasn’t good enough for Mr. Sassy. He told me to make at least one resolution for 2009. Oh great, now I have to put real thought into this. What do I really want to change in my life this year? “Under promise–over achieve,” they say. I’m rolling my eyes as I type that. So this year, with my stunning hooker-red manicured success tapping away at my keyboard, this is my list of New Year’s Resolutions for 2009:


  • Try to wake up early each day. .Of course, before10:30am counts as early to me. It’s a start.
  • Read more. . It doesn’t have to be a huge novel by Stephen King or Tom Brokaw. Even a Nancy Drew from my daughter’s bookshelf or a magazine with good stories works. My husband always tells me Playboy has great stories too.
  • Let a professional take care of my hair. . This includes regular coloring, cutting, and waxing. Even though I think I’m really good at it, I have to realize someone else could do better. A lot better. Especially the waxing part.
  • Spend less money on skin care and glamour products for myself.. Just because it has a fancy name or bottle, costs a mint, and smells like the tropics doesn’t mean it’s better than all the rest. I will be open to comparing drug store brands to the higher end and be honest when less (money) is more (productive!)
  • Eat a serving of berries or dark-skinned fruit every day. . They are healthy, taste good and they keep the germies away.
  • Drink more water, . I’m way better than I used to be, but I’m still off. If I treat myself like I treat my plants, I’m going to be dried out and wilted very soon. Oh, so I guess my next resolution should be….
  • Get a pretty new plant and don’t kill it,.
  • Gain 4-7 lbs. . Listen, don’t hate. I need a little more meat on my bones, okay?
  • Spend 30 minutes every afternoon cleaning up my house. . Cleaning up my home is like having a root canal–long, painful and headache inflicting. If I do a little each day, it won’t be so bad. I was told to set a kitchen timer for 30 minutes. That way it won’t seem overwhelming.
  • Learn something new. . I’m leaving this one really wide open so at least I have a shot at making this one happen. It could be anything from learning a new makeup style to designing a new outfit to learning a song on the guitar. Doesn’t matter. Just as long as it is fun and doesn’t get me arrested.
  • Hug my kids whenever possible. . That one will be easy!


Have a great 2009 everyone! I’ll keep you posted on my resolutions… keep me posted on yours!

Glamour In A Winter Wonderland…

22 Dec

borderlight

With the holidays upon us, we are surrounded by pretty lights, shimmering tinsel, evergreens, poinsettias, ornaments and all of the other various sights of the season. So what are some glamour goodies to make you stylin’ this time of year? Here are a few under-the-mistletoe must-haves:

GOLD

Marc Jacobs Daisy Shimmer Rollerball – This cult-favorite scent has all the holiday glitz to go with it. With hints of strawberry, gardenia and red grapefruit, this feminine scent rolls on with a soft gold shimmer. Both the glitter and scent are long lasting. And the roll-on bottle is quite large, so you’ll have enough for this holiday season and then some. $25

Plump My Pucker Lip Gloss in Root Beer My Float – This little item sounds more like a summer treat, but the color screams party. This lip plumping lip gloss is not super-tingly like many are, but has just enough to keep your pucker pouty. The gloss smells like it came right from a frosty glass, and the color is a long-lasting sheer gold. It’s perfect by itself or over your favorite lip color for more pizazz. $14

SILVER

Urban Decay 24/4 Glide-On Eye Pencil in Gunmetal – Nothing says holiday glam like a little sparkle for the eyes. And Heaven knows Urban Decay is a leader in that department. This long-lasting eye pencil is dark enough for daily wear, even to the office, but has a nice bit of glitter without going overboard. Wear this shade alone for a dark smoky look or over a nice pastel eye shadow for extra pop. $16

Miss Dior Chérie Gift Set – What could be better than Dior’s newest women’s fragrance in a perfect sized bottle, along with a mini shower gel and mini body lotion? All of them all together in a stunning silver Dior clutch bag that will make you stand out like a fashion diva! The pure notes of green tangerine, violet, pink jasmine and patchouli will make you smell stunning. The Dior clutch will make you look it too! $73

GREEN

Philosophy Spicy Pear Cobbler Lip Shine – This is one of those gifts you’ll buy for a friend and then end up keeping for yourself. This crisp-tasting lip gloss is packaged perfectly in a little ornament box to hang right on the tree. Out of the box, it’s a sheer treat that fits nicely in your purse or pocket. Yum! $12

DKNY Be Delicious Body Lotion – Even though it’s winter, make your friends “green” with envy as you treat your body to this fresh indulgence. With an apple-scented base, this scent from DKNY is one of the most popular fragrances on the market today. With a sophisticated blend of exotic flowers and sensual woods mixed in, this softening lotion will keep you smooth refreshed all Winter long. $38

RED

Sephora by OPI Nail Colour in Personal Shopper – The description of this shade is “rich vixen red”. Really now, can anything scream holidays more than that? This bright holly red nail color has all the shine, shimmer and sassiness (I should know!) that anyone would want on their hands this time of year. Bright and bold, you’re hands are sure to get noticed! $9

Philosophy 3-in1 in Red Velvet Cake – Is your mouth watering yet? It should be. Philosophy has nailed this one as far as getting the delicious dessert into your shower. Although it is usually used as a shower gel, it can also be used as a bubble bath or a shampoo. The only thing that’s missing is the cream cheese frosting. $16

JUST PLAIN FESTIVE

Urban Decay Heavy Metal Glitter Liner in Distortion – Turn that basic office or soccer mom makeup into a, “Who spiked the eggnog?” party look with a line or two or three of this jazzy glamour item. The applicator is a super thin brush which swipes a streak of opalescent glitter anywhere and everywhere. Use it just as a liner along the top lashline or smudge it all over your lid for a more dramatic effect. Definitely fun to play with! $18

Make Up For Ever Diamond Powder – This item certainly multi-tasks! Although it looks like an eye shadow, its uses don’t stop there. Use the lighter colors over the top of your favorite cheek color for some shimmer. Or, even better, dot the powder over your lipstick or lip gloss to set it with a lot WOW! If you do use it as an eye shadow, most people say that it works best OVER a cream eye shadow to keep the glitter fall-out to a minimum. I find that applying it by mixing it with Make Up For Ever’s Eye Seal keeps it in place and makes it snowproof as well. $24

(All of the above items are available at Sephora retail stores or at http://www.Sephora.com)

To all of my friends here who visit my blog, as well as my friends and family members who pop in from time to time, here’s wishing you and your family a very Merry Christmas, a glorious holiday season, and a happy, healthy New Year!

borderlight2

Sex And Whose City?

16 Dec

After many long awaited months, I set aside some time this week to kick and watch the movie that has been on my “must see” list since all its hype came out. I hit the purchase button on my pay-per-view remote and watched “Sex and the City”. With a box of tissues in one hand and a stack of style magazines in the other, I sat glued on the couch watching every minute. And, just as predicted, it only took five minutes into the movie before I started to get the fashion itch. I saw dresses, jewelry, shoes and handbags that were beyond chic. Full skirted floral dresses with eccentric pins. Blue Manolo Blahnik stilettos with jeweled pointed toes. Drapes of pearls and chandelier earrings accessorizing thrift store finds to bring about a whole new trend. Even the makeup was natural yet stunning.

Immediately my mind began racing with vivid images of my own closet and what little add-ons I could infuse to get these trendy looks. I wanted to bring the marvel of Manhattan to my little Upstate New York town. The definition of “going to the city” where I live means driving to the Mall in my state’s capital, Albany. I wanted more. I wanted my area to know that Vera wasn’t just the waitress on Alice and Oscar was not always a grouch. Even with my full-time job as a Domestic Goddess, I know I could bring designer beauty to the ‘burbs.

fendiI took some time and read over articles which featured interviews with Patricia Field and Rebecca Weinberg, the fashion designers for “Sex and the City”. I browsed through stacks of Elle, Vogue and InStyle. Flip after flip, I looked for something I could pull off with my closet and my budge. After careful looking, I found a picture of a stick-thin blonde model wearing an outfit that I practically had in my closet right then. A pastel sweater with a plunging low collar, a pair of cropped pants, stiletto boots, and a long strand of pearls all topped off with a bold, short denim jacket. Of course mine was probably seven grand cheaper, but no matter. I had city chic in my walk-in and I was taking it to the streets.

The next day I had an appointment in the city… my city… and decided to wear my new ensemble. I had so much fun dressing. I did my hair in rollers. I applied my makeup with sheer precision. Never in a million years would have ever thought of putting this look together on my own. That would have been a risk and I tend to play it safe. But to be a Sex-ette I had to be a fashion risk taker. Decked out and ready to go, I grabbed my mini clutch and headed for the door. See, right away I have problems. I quickly realize a clutch does not hold a date book. A clutch does not hold a bottle of Motrin. A clutch does not hold a wallet complete with checkbook, supermarket discount cards and pictures of my kids. A clutch barely holds a lip gloss, cell phone and a full-sized pen. So now I need to put my other necessary items in a Wal-Mart bag just to keep in my car for when I am not carrying my clutch. My fashion statement is quickly turning into a fashion mumble. “I can still do this”, I tell myself. “I can still be the fashion diva that would make Carrie Bradshaw proud.”

Twenty minutes, five disco songs and one lip gloss touch up later, I arrived at my destination. I gave myself the final once-over as I grabbed my clutch and headed in to my appointment. Now, here’s the kicker. My appointment wasn’t in the local mall that houses all the trendy playgrounds like Macy’s, Sephora and NY & Co. It was next door to that mall at a medical professional building, complete with a designer blood lab and outpatient surgical center. No matter. Even if I was asked to model the one-size-does-not-fit-all paper gown, at least I had good shoes for it. With a smile on my face and my posture tight, I walked into the building. It took me all of one milli-second to realize I had gone beyond the lines of what my big city was ready for in regards to fashion. I felt like I had just stepped out of the Delorean in “Back to the Future”. I was a space alien in heels. People looked at me like I was walking with a piece of toilet paper stuck to my shoe. A runway-length piece of toilet paper. I wasn’t really sure if my look shocked people because it was fashion like they had never seen before or because people only wore this stuff when they hit the clubs at night. Or maybe I truly did look like odd man out. Whatever they were thinking, it was obvious they were unprepared to see a “SATC “look live and in person.

I pulled out my magazine when I got in the reception room to make sure I didn’t mix and match the wrong items to create an outfit that would be featured as a “What Not To Wear” photo online with a fuzzed bar over my eyes. Nope, I had nailed the look right down. Even though the twenty-something receptionist drooled over my purse and my physician, who is approximately ten years older than me called my outfit “fashion forward”, I realized I would never be able to bring the eclectic looks of my favorite TV show to the streets of my town. Most of my fellow city gals and suburbanites were classy and chic but when it came to their fashions, “risk” was still a four-letter word. Of course, some females did attempt to push the envelope at times with sky-high heels and bold colors. Who are these Gucci gurus? Middle schoolers. And I KNOW they aren’t watching my show. (I hope they aren’t watching my show!) I guess I’ll just have to take things slow and infuse my “Sex and the City” clothes into my town with ease. It will be like getting into a pool… one (peep) toe at a time.

Tags: , , , , ,

Frantic Friday Shopping…

7 Dec

groceryWhy Going To The Discount Super Center This Friday Was A Death Sentence:

1. Everyone over the age of 70 driving through the parking lot had no desire to yield the right of way to people already in motion. I heard at least five horns honk as Aunt Ethel sat in oncoming traffic for four minutes with her signal light on for a spot closest to the entrance. I was directly behind Aunt Ethel.

2. My mother calling me as I went into the store and me answering it. When she realized I was at the store, my shopping list of ten things quickly turned into twenty. The plan for an in-and-out visit had turned into an hour-long treasure hunt for earplugs, hemorrhoid cream, Woollite and orange Circus Peanuts.

3. Everyone over the age of 70 coming out of an aisle into “oncoming traffic” had no desire to yield the right of way to me when I was already in motion. My cart was run into at least five times between the Ensure and the Bran Flakes.

4. I watched helplessly as a frazzled mother threatened to give away her two daughters after the youngest decided to paint her sister’s face with a bottle of Wet ‘n Wild nail polish in the shade “Runaway Red”. How ironic.

5. A group of teenage girls created a Hiroshima-sized cloud in the perfume department trying to find the perfect scent for tonight’s school dance. When I was leaving, they had narrowed their choice down to Hillary Duff’s “With Love” or Britney Spears’ “Curious” glimmer spritz. What ever happened to Love’s Baby Soft? The atomic cloud gave me a headache from hell.

6. “Clean Up In Aisle 7” was heard just as much as “Cash or Credit?” I believe it was a three-year old boy named Danny who was mostly responsible. This was determined after I continuously heard the father exclaim, “Danny…STOP! Oooh noooo.” That cry was immediately followed by breaking glass then the loud speaker saying, “Ed, wet spill, aisle 7.”

7. The odd-looking middle-aged man who seemed to be in every aisle I was in, including feminine hygiene and curtains. He was smiling sheepishly at me whenever I leaned over my cart. He creeped me out. I felt the urge to offer him some fave beans and a nice Chianti (slurp slurp).

8. The store was out of bacon & horseradish dip, but had double the amount of Ruffles chips. I hate that.

9. For the second straight week, there was no frozen Stouffer’s macaroni and cheese. This will infuriate my daughter. She will want to picket the store beginning Monday.

10. Eight words: out of alignment shopping cart with shaking wheels!

Tags: , , , ,

A Shoe-Tasting Menu…..

29 Nov

shoeshopping1
My husband, Mr. Sassy, has a job in the food service industry. In addition to being a manager to his team of guys, he is also somewhat of a consultant to many fabulous restaurants and chefs in our area. His job is great when it comes to trying out the newest fab foods too. I’ve been a taste tester for some fabulous things such as coffees, spices, desserts and prime cuts of meats as well as been a part of the launching of some of the best restaurants in our area. Recently, my husband informed me that we had been invited to attend a seasonal gourmet dinner of an Epicurean Circle at one of these restaurants. Since there was a limited seating of only sixty “epi-curious” people, my husband made sure we were on the “A” list for the evening.

I’ll be honest, I don’t cook much. I grew up on comfort foods. I can make a steak, pork chops, stew and a killer chili. I can make side dishes such as corn, green beans, baked potatoes, and yam casserole with marshmallows. Early on in our relationship, my husband loved taking me to all kinds of different restaurants to expand my range of food tastes. He introduced me to a variety of ingredients I had never even heard of, much less consumed. In addition, he showed me fine wines and the types of foods that they paired well with. I didn’t just learn that eating was a means of survival but it could also be a true experience. With that being said, in our twelve years together, I had never heard the word ‘epicurean’ before. So I looked it up on the website for the event. I learned it would be a chef-designed tasting of foods “inspired by the freshest bounty of the season, prepared imaginatively, beautifully presented as well as narrated and paired with complimenting wines.” Let me get this straight. You are going to serve me eight courses of different meals in sizes I can actually finish? Check. You are going to use fresh, seasonal ingredients? Check check. And you are going to accompany each course with a different vino? Triple check, I’m in!

Now as my husband was anticipating a night of eclectic amuse bouches, tartares, emulsions and infusions, you want to know what I was anticipating? A reason to go shoe shopping! Come on…new flavors, new foods, new shoes! We all know a fancy foo-foo dinner just tastes better in high heels. He could become the gourmand of mission figs and I could become the guru of Manolo Blahnik’s. All in the same night. Once the reservations had been made, the online shopping began. I already had the stellar go-with-anything “little black dress”. That was easy. My search now was for the killer pair of shoes that, as Emeril would say, would make my outfit go “BAM!” So many funky styles are out that I had endless options. I knew one thing though – wanted pumps. Killer, model, “F”-me pumps. I am 5’9” with more legs than a bucket of chicken, but I love the feeling I get when I can wear a pair of heels with confidence. It jazzes me even more if I can wear them with confidence AND no blisters!

I hit the hot footwear websites, and the internet quickly became my own personal tasting menu. What’s great about online shoe shopping is so many of them are in competition with each other that they offer deals that cannot be beat. Free shipping, free returns, exchange upgrades, and every designer name imaginable. Plus, let’s not forget really great deals and sales. Now, when I stopped to think about it, I realized I hadn’t invested in a good pair of name-brand shoes in a really long time. In fact, the last pair I bought was an uber-jazzy pair of Nine West peep-toed pumps with a gift certificate my fiancé/now husband gave me for Mother’s Day. That was over 7 years ago. I still have them because I treat them like gold. That’s because when I got them, they were over $90 and at that time (as a piss-poor singe parent) I couldn’t imagine anyone other than a runway diva or Oprah having a pair of shoes that expensive. I never thought expensive meant better, but I think with shoes it just might. “You get what you pay for.” The leather on those classic Nine West shoes have now become smooth like buttah and is soft like a baby’s butt. It will be difficult to let them go when they finally fall apart. I think I will need a coroner to officially declare them gone.

shoes
I shopped online for several hours, hitting endless websites, and charging pair after pair of black heels. With tens of thousands online to pick from, I just couldn’t nail down just one pair without testing many. I think I ordered a total of eight pairs. Now don’t hassle me, I had no intention of keeping all eight. My goal was one jazzy-yet somewhat comfy-pair to add to my collection. Now began the waiting game for my boxes to begin arriving at my doorstop. Within 48 hours, my UPS man began ringing my doorbell. Day after day after day. If he had stayed any longer than 60 seconds, I’m sure my neighbors would have begun to wonder what Brown was really doing for me. The excitement of the shopping/selection experience however soon dwindled as I opened each pair and found a problem with each. Too high, too tight, too large, too “what the hell was I thinking?” Eight pairs came, eight pairs got rejected. I was frustrated and annoyed. The good news? I did find a shoe I absolutely loved. A pair of zip-top gladiator pump sandals in black. The bad news? The pair that came was too small and the size I did need wasn’t available from the shoe site I had gotten them from. Once I fell head over “heels” for this pair, I grabbed the laptop and began searching for that specific shoe in the size I needed. And fast too, because the tasting dinner was quickly approaching. After an hour on a few search engines, I found my dream shoe. A perfect size 8.5 Berkley sandal in black patent leather by Michael Kors, the fashion guru judge from “Project Runway”. I love his style and his shoes are to die for. They had them at Nordstrom’s, a primo store known for top designers and high-fashion styles. And I could order them online at a (cough cough) respectable price. My heart began to beat faster as I rushed to get the order placed for same-day shipping. They would officially be the most expensive fashion purchase I had ever made in my life. Well, I had a leather coat that was more, but that doesn’t count. Warm coats are a necessity in New York. Black, strappy, 4” heeled shoes are a splurge.

Since it was a Friday and the multifarious feast was on Tuesday, I requested two-day priority shipping. That meant they would be guaranteed for Tuesday morning delivery, and I’d have time to walk around the house in my new kicks to get my feet ready for the 6 pm dinner. I took seven of the eight pairs of unwanted shoes to the shipping store to return to their appropriate online stores for credit. The only ones I chose not to return yet was the too-small pair of Kors’ Berkley sandals I had just reordered from Nordstrom’s so I could jam them on with my dinner dress, practice not walking like an ostrich, and play makeup until the new ones came. I designed a look from head to toe—sparkly makeup to toe ring—that made me feel like a red-carpet superstar. I walked through my living room pretending I was Heidi Klum telling each of my cats, “One minute you’re in. The next? You’re out!” They just looked at me like I was on drugs.

When my husband came home from work that night, I was excited to show him what I was going to wear to his special event. Mr. Sassy was in awe. He thought I looked stunning and was happy to know I was this excited to be attending an event so out of my comfort zone. And when I asked him how he liked the shoes, he replied by saying they were “hot”. Nice, good answer. Over the next sixty minutes, I told him the story of my shopping experience including every specific, useless detail. When I told him how stressed I was after everything I had dealt with, I assured him it was all worth it now that I had managed to arrange for my new en vouge party shoes to come first thing Tuesday morning for that evening’s event. At that point,  he turned to me with a blank, fogged look on his face. “Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Mr. Sassy said in a nonchalant tone.  “I was wrong. The dinner is on Monday, not Tuesday.”

I was speechless. Probably because my teeth were clenched together so hard I could have crushed a walnut, still in the shell. When Mr. Sassy saw my tense look of shock, he was speechless too. Maybe because he just knew better than to speak right then. I didn’t know if I should have cracked, cringed or cried. I just kept hearing Heidi whispering in my head, “One minute you’re in…”  Oh shoot me.

Long story short, I dug out my pair of shiny black boots circa 1970, paired with a leopard skirt and black sweater, and we went to the dinner Monday evening. The food was fabulous. I tried an oyster for the first time. Of course, it was fried, and anything is good if you fry the hell out of it. I ate a frog leg (even though I was given two), which I think actually did taste like chicken but I couldn’t really tell because I couldn’t get passed the fact that… well, it looked like… a frog’s leg! I promised my husband I would try everything, which I did. I also told him that trying it didn’t mean I would finish it, which he respected. I’m looking forward to attending next season’s feast. And you can guarantee, I’ll get the exact date of the event well in advance!

My Michael Kors black patent zipper-top shoes came, right on time, the next morning. Still in my pajamas, I took them out of the box and tried them on. They fit like a glove. Still in my plush bathrobe, I strapped on my new shiny designer heels and headed out to the driveway to get my mail. Even in fuschia fuzz, supermodel shoes look “hot”. I haven’t had a real reason to wear them outside of the house yet, but every time I open my closet, I see them in their box. Trust me, they will get their time… with or without a fried oyster!

Tags: , , , , , ,

Survey Says………!!!

22 Nov

I often get those “About You Survey” emails sent to me or posted on MySpace. I grumble every time I get them, and then I turn around and spend over thirty minutes filling each one of them out and forwarding them on. Most ask me the usual: what am I wearing, have I ever made a boyfriend cry, etc. But I found this survey today while online and I thought it was a bit different. I figured I would complete it so my loyal blog-followers can get to know Sassy Auburn a bit more…

A – Z Survey

1. A is for age: N is for none of your business usually, but I’ll just say 39+

2. B is for beer of choice: Corona, with a lime

3. C is for career right now: Professional cosmetic user and purchaser

4. D is for your dog’s name: I don’t have a dog now but my last dog’s name was Pierre

5. E is for essential item you use everyday: Scented moisturizing body lotion

6. F is for favorite TV show at the moment: CSI (the original Las Vegas one)

7. G is for favorite game: To watch? Football   To play? Yahtzee

8. H is for home town: Clifton Park

9. I is for instruments you play: I used to play keyboards but I don’t know if I could even read music now

10. J is for favorite juice: Orange with lots of pulp–the furrier the better

11. K is for whose ass you’d like to kick: The girl who cut me off in the mall parking lot and took the spot I had been waiting for for over 10 minutes during the holidays about 4 years ago. I hope she enjoyed the wad of gum I jammed into her door handle and lock. (Hmm…think I hold a grudge?)

12. L is for the last place you ate: A great Italian restaurant who was featuring an 8 course chef’s tasting menu designed for Fall.

13. M is for marriage: It’s great if it’s for you… and trust me it’s not for everyone. And that’s okay too.

14. N is for your full name: And leave myself open for possible stalkers? I’ll give you my “Ron Mexico” name instead. It’s Heather Turkey. (If you don’t know what a Ron Mexico name is, visit http://ronmexico.kainalopallo.com/ to get yours!)

15. O is for overnight hospital stays: Ugh, I am going to say about ten but many of those were related to having my kids.

16. P is for people you were with today: My husband, my two kids and my cat.

17. Q is for quote: “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” – Janis Joplin

18. R is for biggest regret: Greg

19. S is for status: Married. Happily married.

20. T is for the time you woke up today: Ummm, 12:30 pm. I was lazy, okay?

21. U is for underwear you have on now: None. I hate underwear. Briefs, thongs or G-strings—they all wad up your butt anyways

22. V is for vegetable you love: Cucumbers!

23. W is for worst habit: Swearing like a trucker when I watch sports

24. X is for x-rays you’ve had: Oh, I’m not even going to bother with that one. Seeing as how I have had three shoulder surgeries and four foot surgeries, I probably glow more than a lightening bug.

25. Y is for yummy food you ate today: Green olives stuffed with feta cheese

26. Z is for Zodiac sign: Gemini

Want to share your answers? Feel free! I’d love to know about you too! And if you have any other cool surveys, email them to me. I’ll fill them out without hesitation!! (Knowing that, maybe I should change my status to “bored”.)

Tags: , , , ,

Fashion Magazines: Little Annoyances…

8 Nov
Photo courtesy of allure.com

Photo courtesy of allure.com

I spent this entire week lying around the house with a terrible case of laryngitis and a cold I inherited from my daughter. It was so bad that my doctor told me to rest my vocal chords for several days. What did that mean to me? What it should mean to everyone. Just don’t talk. But you see, you don’t understand. I can’t handle that. I worked on hot-talk radio for over a year just because I like to talk. I’d talk to strangers at a race track, local politicians, Playboy models and strippers. It didn’t matter. Even now? During a conversation, I really have to be aware for how long I’ve talked … and talked… and talked. In fact, it took me over an hour to tell my husband that I wasn’t even allowed to talk. You see the pattern. Hmmm. Maybe that’s why I got the laryngitis in the first place. I’ll just keep telling myself it’s the virus.

Flat on my back in bed, my mouth was shut tight and my brain frying by the minute thanks to daytime TV consisting of soap operas, judge shows and reality reruns. I tried to pick up on the fictional dialog of Maria, the beloved wife of a psychiatrist who was cheating on him with her step-daughter’s husband only because she had lost her memory (for the third time this season) and thought she was actually a southern bell from the Civil War era. Yeah… um, that’s not happening for me. So instead, one rainy day, I ventured off to my mailbox to discover my own little treasure chest had been dropped off in the bin. What had arrived? My guilty pleasure. My escape from reality. My throat’s savior. Not a box of Hall’s cough drops. Even better. My monthly loot of glamour magazines!

Because of my love for the cosmetic, skin care and glamour industry, it’s only natural that one would assume that I am a collector of these monthly periodicals. Some come wrapped in plastic, others with special editions attached. But no matter what the title, who’s on the cover, what the season it is, or what the fashion faux pas of the month is, I’m sucked in. I usually run through each one first to see what catches my eye (pictures, products, models). Then a few days later, I go back to read the “How To’s” and “What’s Hot” tidbits. Then I research everything that jazzes me to see if it is something I want to invest in. Finally? It ends up in the library (aka: bathroom) and over the next month, it gets looked over at “convenient” times to see what I might have missed.

In my years of reading over my glam-rags, two things haven’t changed. And I wish I could say that they are good features. But they aren’t. In fact, they are annoying as hell. I keep hoping they will get better, but actually they have gotten worse. What are these little bothersome items? Let’s break them down, one at a time:

    1. The perfume samples. The last thing a girl with a sinus infection wants to deal with while sick in bed is opening a relaxing magazine that inflicts a scent-induced sneezing spasm. What’s worse? I get sucked in every month. See when I get a magazine, the first thing I do is open the front cover. Immediately I can smell a fragrance that I love. Or so I think. So what do I do? I go hunting through the pages looking for this glorious perfume. I find the first sample. I tear back the little sticky flap and see if that’s it. Nope. Not that one. I keep going. I get to the next little peel-n-sniff sample. I peel back the corner. I inhale. Nope, that’s not it either. This continues for about two or three more before I realize two things:

    a. None of them are the aroma I enjoyed when I first opened the magazine. It most likely is a combination of ALL the little scents blended together into a big cluster-cologne that made the one I loved. Dammit. What a big frigging tease.

    b. I now have the headache from hell. My little annoyed nasal passages, at this point, couldn’t tell the difference between Gwen Stefani’s L L.A.M.B. perfume and Sassy Auburn’s LAMB dinner still in the fridge from last week. I could stick my head in a bag of coffee beans at this point and it wouldn’t matter. (Ferragamo Incanto’s) “Heaven” help me.

and….

    2. The endless subscription postcard insertions. There literally so many, I could use them all to wallpaper a New York City townhouse. Oh come on fashion magazines…give it up! I’m not an idiot. I know how to re-up. And if you think you are going to lure in the poor saps sitting in anyone’s waiting room that might not get your magazine already, you are sadly mistaken. They have all been thrown out. Like I did. When they fell all over my bedroom and living room floor the minute I opened up the magazine to sniff the first damn perfume sample! In my last magazine that came in the mail, I actually counted eight. Eight annoying, cluttering, postage-paid-but-who-cares postcards that I won’t even look at it. Why? Because I know what they are! Magazines should just do myself… and the earth!… a favor. Just send me a letter a month before my subscription runs out. Feel free to offer me a free tote bag or a cosmetic sampler and then… just then… will I consider it.

Thanks to my doctor’s advice, a hidden cell phone, and an occasional piece of packing tape across my mouth, I have managed to get most of my voice back. Just in time for football Sunday screaming. Maybe I’ll be daring and wear one of the magazine perfume samples during the game. I could choose that one I love, Marc Jacob’s “Daisy”. Or was it Armani’s “Diamonds”. Maybe it was Britney’s “Believe”. Or could it have been Paris’s “Fairy Dust”. Never mind. I am getting a headache just thinking about it.

Tags: , , , , , ,

My First Glamour Halloween…

1 Nov


As the trick or treaters finish up knocking on my door, I am reminded of the Halloween that my sister took it upon herself to create my costume. I was eleven years old, which means my sister was 27. Yes, my sister was 16 years older than me, with no siblings in between. My mother always asked me what I wanted to be each year, and she would go out to the local Woolworth’s or Barker’s and get me the costume-in-a-box. Every October, the seasonal boxes would be stacked in the department stores like birthday cakes in a market bakery, with clear cellophane tops so you could see the contents. The masks were complete with almond sliver cut outs for eyes, a cheap elastic to hold it on your head, and sharp plastic edges that would slice the sides of your face like a Ginsu knife. And even if the box was marked “Children’s Size Small”, it was more like an adult size medium in order to accommodate three pairs of sweat pants and a wool coat under it to keep us kids warm. That year, my sister asked me if she could dress me as a gypsy, complete with a Woodstock-inspired dress that she owned and all the makeup and jewels that went with it. I was thrilled. It was such a step up from the highly flammable outfit I was used to. My mom, on the other hand, wasn’t so happy.

My mother was very strict when I was a child. In fact she wanted me to stay a child as long as she could. I don’t think it was because she wanted me to enjoy all the youthful joys and delights for as long as possible. I believe it was because wanted me to think the world was evil and nothing could be more fun and interesting than living at home with her. I wasn’t allowed to date till I was sixteen. Designer jeans were for hussies. Bright lipstick was for sluts. And if you hung out at the mall for longer than two hours it usually meant you were “fast”. I don’t know if these delusional thoughts were because my sister was a child of the 60’s and everyone was California Dreamin’. Or if, in fact, my mother was… well, just delusional. I had never done anything to give her the idea I was “that” kind of girl. Hell, when I saw “Grease” for the first time, I thought Rizzo was singing Sandra Dee to me!

When my sister told my mother she was creating my Halloween look, she initially had no problems. My mother wouldn’t have to battle her way to the strip mall for my costume and could save the cash instead. My sister wasn’t very specific, however, on what she planned on putting me into. She just told my mom she had a cute dress to make me look like a gypsy and my mom thought it was fine. I guess that’s because my mother thought no matter what my outfit was, she was going to put a snowsuit on over it anyways. A few days later, my sister picked me up after school so I could go pick out the accessories to go with my costume. Shopping for the garnishes was a blast! I picked out large pieces of gaudy jewelry, complete with big hoop earrings and chunky bracelets. I had never even seen the makeup section of a department store before and I was in awe. The endless tubes of lipsticks, rainbow colors of eye shadows, sparkly glosses, deep black eyeliners and thick mascaras were there for the trying and buying. It was amazing. That was it—it was official. The cosmetic seed had been planted and I was hooked. I honestly think this was the beginning of my glamour addiction.

Because my sister was married and out of the house, she had agreed to come over, dress me up, and drive me around for my “night on the town”. I had my long flowing multicolored dress. Under it, my sister put on a dark thermal top and leggings so my mom didn’t have to cram me in Antartica-wear when we were done. Way to go sis! She tied a bandana onto my head and covered me with the endless bangles and long beads. Then she did my makeup. She glued on uber-long fake lashes and lined my eyes with charcoal eyeliner. I looked like Goldie Hawn on Laugh In. Then she jazzed up my lids with bright blue eye shadow and glossed up my lips with a frosted fuschia lipstick. I looked in the mirror and was amazed! I mean, granted, it was way over the top for a girl my age but I realized even then how defining some makeup could really be. Plus, my sister didn’t just do my makeup, but showed me what to do and how to do it. Some of those lessons I remember even now. (My sister was the queen of the liquid liner!)

Since sis was taking me out, that enabled mom to stay home. And fret. With my look complete, my sister took a deep breath, as if she knew what she was about to face. She handed me my fringed handbag to use for my treats and walked me out to the kitchen. She announced, “We’re all done, we are going to go now…I’ll make sure she’s home for bedtime mom”, and tried to scoot me out the door as quick as humanly possible. My mother, who only saw me from the back, said to my sister, “Oh, wait, you better make sure she puts a coat on!” As my mother ran over with a hat, gloves and a twenty pound wool jacket, she almost tripped over her jaw as it hit the floor like a concrete block. “WHAT THE HELL IS SHE WEARING?” Oh no… protective mother alert! Game on.

I really did not know what the problem was. I thought I looked like a colorful goddess. She thought I looked like a pre-teen street walker. “Don’t I look pretty?”, I asked my mother in a perky way. “No!”, she said in a flat evil tone directed at my sister. My sister wasn’t going to back down as she shuffled me out. “Oh good God mom, it’s only a costume. We’ll be home later.” And off we went. After two hours of sheer bliss with me spinning around in my flowing frock and batting my spider lashes at every door, we headed back to home. I think I got more candy that night than I ever had before. I gave all of my dark chocolates to my sister since they were her favorites. Not only did I give her them as my way of saying “thank you” for a fabulous night of fun, but also because at the age of eleven I thought dark chocolates tasted putrid. With my bag of goodies in hand, my sister walked me into the house so she could take her jazzy dress back home with her. As we walked through the door, my mother was sitting in the living room. Waiting. She had a jar of cold cream in one hand and a bottle of baby oil in the other. She got up, handed me the portable grease products, and sent me off to the bathroom to start scrubbing. Outside of the bathroom door, I heard my sister getting grilled. My mother was going on about her “encouraging me” and “coaching me” on the evil ways of primping and pampering. Why did I have the feeling this wasn’t the first time my sister had been through this, and why did I have the feeling this wouldn’t be my last. The only difference was my sister had moved out, and I was still stuck here. Oh well. After several minutes, my sister—now too old and too married to have to deal with this interrogation—basically left my mother bitching as she just… well, left.

My mother rapped on the bathroom and told me once I had gotten all of that **insert bad word here** off my face, to get to bed. Soon after, I took my freshly cleaned (but still incredibly greasy) face as well as my sack of sweets and headed to my bedroom to tally up the loot. When I walked in my room and dumped out my array of rolls, bars and pops, I noticed a small brown goodie bag amongst the treats. I opened it up and found the best treat of all. It was the eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and lip gloss that I had worn with my gypsy outfit that night! I looked around for my mother like I had a bag of stolen money in my room. Inside was a small piece of paper with a note from my sister: “You can keep the makeup. Just make sure if you wear some on at school, you wash it off before you get on the bus to come home!” So THAT’S how she got away with it. My sister had just shared the first trick of the teenage makeup trade. I was now an official glamour insider.

I put all of my treats back in my fancy retro bag, less two Tootsie Rolls, a Pixie Stix and a box of Dots which I enjoyed right before bed. I put everything else on top of my dresser. Everything, that is, except my makeup. I hid that in my closet inside my roller skates, next to my Shaun Cassidy album. Thanks for a fabulous Halloween, sis, and thanks for my first trip into the world of glamour!

My first "full glamour" Halloween with my nephew, Jack.

My first “full glamour” Halloween with my nephew, Jack.

Tags: , , ,

Oh-So October…

24 Oct

Reasons Why I Love October:

1.   Digging out the extra blanket on that first chilly night.

2.   Goodbye bright summer fashion shades, hello rich warm hues.

3.   The smell of pumpkin and spice fragranced oils and candles.

4.   Being able to crack a window for a little cool, fresh air.

5.   Warm fresh apple pie.

6.   Watching the leaves turn bright colors that even Crayola couldn’t invent.

7.   No more oily skin from hot, humid days.

8.   Less lawn mowing.

9.   Long sweaters that cover a multitude of sins (and cookies).

10. Baseball playoffs!

11. The warm fuzzy robe and matching slippers.

12. Sorting through your kids’ bag of Halloween candy “for safety reasons”. (I’ve managed to convince my children that Charlston Chews, Baby Ruths, and Kit Kats are the root of all evil.)

  
Reasons Why I Hate October:

  1. Getting out of the shower on a freezing cold morning..

  2. Digging your warmer clothes out of the storage bins that are in the deep depths of your closet, that got covered in endless flip flops and sunny tote bags.

  3. Your rose bushes are no longer green.

  4. Chapped lips.

  5. Endless comfort foods that seem to go straight to your hips.

  6. Trick or treaters that don’t say “thank you”.

  7. Christmas decorations in the department stores BEFORE Halloween.

  8. Raking leaves non-stop.

  9. The hibernation of young, buff, shirtless landscapers. Sigh.

10. Baseball playoffs when your team doesn’t make it.

11. The beginning of cold and flu season, and little kids that feel the need to cough on you in the supermarket.

12. Candy corn (my husband said that).

Tags: , , , , , , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →