Outfit post: A snow-related freak out and a pretty little dress

Holy crap is it cold this morning. The weather forecast is predicting temperatures in the teens. I can feel cold air creeping under our doors, frigid fingers pulling at my wool socks. But it's the icy glare of wind-blown snow that makes me realize just how friggin' cold it really is.

Snow happens every damm winter, even here in Texas, and despite the efforts of the mighty news wanting to make it into a scary terrifying thing, it's not. Trust me. For days, the news has excitedly been airing footage of snow plows being driven into the city in preparation for today's three-inch snow fall. The snow will make for treacherous driving, and an ugly commute, but I assure you that this is not the pre-apocalyptic event sages have been warning us about. 

I love how people stock up for snow as if they're preparing to hunker down in an underground bunker to save themselves from a nuclear attack. People, this is not a Cormac McCarthy novel. Even if you are trapped in your house, you'll only be in there for a couple of days max. And even then, you can trudge out if you really need to. Unless you're living Ted Kazinski-style in a remote cabin in the woods without access to roads or transportation or electricity, you'll be fine. There is no need to bum rush the supermarket and empty its shelves of water and milk and toilet paper (what's up with people hoarding toilet paper before a storm? Is it that bad to wipe your ass of with Kleenex or paper towels for a day?) You know what you should stock up on? Booze, coffee, junk food, cigarettes (if you smoke) and a few frozen dinners in case you need actual nourishment.

Better yet, let me freak out for you, just so you're covered for the rest of winter:

AHHH! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? AHHHH! HOW WILL YOU CONTINUE TO LIVE??? YOUR COZY LITTLE HOMES ARE NO MATCH FOR THE APOCALYPTIC FROZEN PRECIPITATION ABOUT TO GENTLY DUST THE EARTH!!!!

I like to sit back and watch all the weather-people slowly go from cautiously restrained, to slightly optimistic, to mostly excited, to overwhelmed with snow-loving glee. Yes, yes, this is their moment. The rare time when you, and you, and you, are hanging onto their every word. You want to know...how much, and for how long, and how bad the snow will be. They'll be out in parkas, and galoshes, amidst all the snow drifts regaling us with stories and tales of snow-related nonsense. They will excitedly show you the meteorological storm guidance tracks. All the "snow bands" and "arctic blasts" flowing in from the West, the North. They will twitch and snicker and make snow jokes. They will feel so important. So very, very important. It is their moment in the sun. The one thing they live for, short of a tsunami hitting Florida. Yes, friends, this is their nirvana.

So yeah, I am a little testy with being stuck in the house with my kids while getting over a sinus infection. Luckily I have a favorite dress to cheer me up, which I strategically layered to keep warm.

Forever 21 denim jacket; hand-me-down See by Chloe dress; Michael Stars long sleeved tee; Hue tights; Frye boots; Nordstrom necklace; Betsey Johnson watch

 

Thrifting 101: Tips for newbies, and dealing with the squick facor

When I was a little girl, one of favorite activities was making mud pies in my front yard. My mother would send me out in my oldest, grungiest clothes with a wooden spoon and some warped Tupperware containers, and I'd go to town creating elaborate concoctions made out of dirt, leaves and basically whatever detritus I could find on our property. Getting nice and dirty never bothered me, and it took a lot to gross me out. Most little girls my own age were repelled by worms, and bugs, and blood, but I was fascinated. Sure, I loved my frilly dresses and hair ribbons. But they were always accompanied by dirt under my fingernails.

I suppose this is why I am unafraid of thrift stores. Thrift store excursions put one face-to-face with musty odors, dust, and dirt. There's a guaranteed ewww factor. Some consider the idea of rummaging through racks of use clothing distasteful, and I've received more than a few raised brows and scrunched noses after confessing my love for thrifting (you can see evidence of this passion here, and here, and here.) But I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon.

Jentine of My Edit recently discussed this very topic in her Thrift Friday series. I was impressed by her tips for those who find thrifting intriguing, yet struggle with getting past what she calls the ick factor. However, I think there's another group of potential thrifters who could use some advice: those who have never, ever been thrifting, and are simply intimidated to enter the store in the first place. I thought I'd add my own tips to both groups. 

• First of all, ask yourself if you are the type of person who can physically handle thrifting. If you have allergies, asthma, a super strong aversion to germs, or are unable to spend much time on your feet, thrifting is probably not for you. Also, you won't always find an item in your size. You won't always find something you like, either. If you are someone who loves to rummage, would sacrifice a half day in pursuit of a bargain, can thrift without triggering allergies, and enjoys the thrill of the hunt, then thrift store shopping is for you.
   
• Decide what time to shop is best for you. You'll need at least a spare hour. Since rummaging requires energy, choose the time of day when you feel most energetic. Some stores are open at night or weekends, and I've found that fewer people visit thrift stores at night. Weekends are likely to be busier, and sales days are by far the busiest. Most thrift stores post hours and information regarding sales on their website; definitely take the time to check before planning an outing.
   
• Leave your purse in the trunk of the car (or at home.) Carrying cash in your pocket frees up your hands for sorting/digging/browsing. And avoid wearing your coat into the store for the same reason.
   
• Understand that the types of people who visit thrift stores are not necessarily the same as in your neighborhood or at church. Thrift stores attract all walks of life. This means that you may be chatted up by lonely souls seeking comfort, confronted by people with intellectual disabilities, or brush shoulders with those down on their luck. All of them have their reasons for being there; just be polite and move on to the next rack.

• If the idea of the Goodwill or the Salvation Army squicks you out, try consignment stores instead. Consignment stores hand-select their items, and some even clean clothing before making it available to customers. They usually sell higher-label merchandise too. They're a nice steps towards becoming comfortable with the idea of wearing previously worn clothing.
   
• Be honest with yourself even before trying on the item (if that's possible - many thrift stores don't include dressing rooms.) Do you really like the style overall - the arms shape, the leg flare, the neck plunge etc? Is it really your color? Don't buy clothes that you don't absolutely love, or don't quite fit, or are otherwise substandard - even if they are a bargain. It's tempting to purchase something because it's so inexpensive, but it's a waste of time, money, and space to buy something that's not quite right.
   
• Check closely for stains, tears, mended parts, stretched stitching (often hard to repair) and marks. Do pants have a shiny seat, are beads or buttons missing, is stitching coming loose? If you see these, ask yourself if they're reparable or so damaged that they're better left behind. Only get items in good condition or capable of an easy repair. Buttons, zippers, and small holes can be replaced or mended by a tailor. Perspiration stains, fade marks, and large moth holes are beyond repair.
   
• And finally, my most-important piece of advice (and I can't state this emphatically enough): Do not feel ashamed or embarrassed to be shopping second-hand. It's practical, smart, and financially sensible. And thrifting makes it possible to find some really unique, vintage pieces that no one else has. Anyone who would put you down for doing it only makes themselves look bad (and shallow.)

Now I ask you: Does any part of thrifting squick you out? Do you avoid thrift stores entirely because of the squick factor? And please share your tips for newbie thrifters!

Thrifted Kimchi Blue cardigan; thrifted Michael Stars henley; thrifted Seven For All Mankind bootcut jeans; thrifted Frye boots; thrifted vintage Whiting and Davis clutch; Betsey Johnson gold watch

 

(Thanks for the positive responses, everyone! I think I'm going to start a Thrifting Thursday series now. It's nice to see that so many people share my passion for thrift stores!)

Someone had a case of the Mondays

I am not a morning person. When my alarm clock goes off it induces a state of pouting, whining and depression akin to a five year-old's failed attempts to get candy. I snuggle deeper into my blankets, attempting in vain to pretend I have hours available for blissful slumber. I engage in luxuriant fantasies of having the kind of life where a staff of nannies is on hand to wake my kids, get them dressed and fed, and drive them to school. Like I am certain my arch nemesis, Gywneth Paltrow employs (read my rant against her here.)

Monday mornings are especially difficult. On Monday mornings, accomplishing my usual tasks feels like swimming through cement. And something always, always goes wrong. Monday mornings are when I discover we're out of coffee and that my daughter neglected to do her homework over the weekend. Mondays are learning it's 21 degrees out and forgetting to warm up the truck (leading my youngest son to declare that his bottom has turned into a butt-sicle.) Mondays are misplaced car keys and leaving the house without mascara and lipstick and sitting in an hour of traffic and not being able to find even one decent song on the radio. Mondays also involve stifling urges to bitch-slap that annoyingly chipper barista at Starbucks. I don't care if it's her job to be friendly towards customers, or that she's ingested enough caffeine to fuel the Space Shuttle. NO ONE DESERVES TO BE THAT HAPPY FIRST THING IN THE MORNING, IT GOES AGAINST NATURE. Mondays are going to the supermarket and forgetting to buy the most important thing on my list, like toilet paper. And coffee. And, worst of all, Mondays are always the days I bump into someone I haven't seen in three years and, of course, I look like crap.

So, on this Monday, I decided to dress simply. This vibrant red sweater dress is uncomplicated, comfortable and cheery. I love the quilting at the neckline, and it coordinates nicely with my freshly-colored red hair. (I also have the same sweater dress in cream - see it here.) Wearing this red dress makes me feel good, even without lipstick, coffee, and a warm butt.

Free People sweater dress; Michael Stars long-sleeves tee; Joe's Jeans jeggings; Frye boots; Via Spiga bag; Lucky Brand earrings

Bargain shopping: Where do you draw the line?

I am one of those people who loves a bargain. Time spent digging through the racks of a discount or consignment store is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make. Unearthing a bargain causes the sort of high I imagine career drug users experience (not that I would know. The strongest drug I've ever used was nicotine.) I love informing someone that my Joe's Jeans were purchased during a particularly fruitful dig at the Salvation Army. I adore the look of respect, gleamed from a stylish friend, when I educate her on the origin and price ($10!) of my embroidered Anthropologie sweater (see below.)  I am almost haughty when examining someone's designer purchase, knowing that I would have paid much, much less for it than the wearer. Indeed, if discount shopping were an Olympic sport, I am absolutely certain I would earn a gold medal.

While I am proud of my ability to score a bargain, this knowledge often gets me in trouble. I have a really really hard time passing something up when I know it's a great deal. This might explain why my closet is crammed beyond capacity. Clothes are spilling out of drawers, shoved into storage containers, lurking underneath my bed. My skirts share hangers.  Belts are sexually tangled together in a hulking lump. 

I have a teensy bit of a problem.

Today I had a few hours to fill, so I tripped off to a newly discovered consignment store near my house. I was lazily thumbing through the racks when I uncovered a new with tags J. Crew Collection 3/4 sleeve gold waxed linen belted jacket (whew.) As an avid fan of J. Crew, I knew exactly what this jacket was worth: $275.oo. Price at the consignment store: $45. Score, right? Well, the jacket was a size large. I am not a size large. Moreover, I have absolutely no need for a 3/4 sleeve gold waxed linen jacket. I can't even imagine how I'd wear it, or where I'd wear it to. I imagine women who wear $275 gold waxed linen jackets pair them with diamonds and Louboutin heels and drink dirty martinis with blue cheese-stuffed olives and live in homes decorated by snooty men of questionable sexuality. But it was such a good deal. I'd be crazy to pass it up.

I spent a good twenty minutes examining the jacket. I unbelted it, tried it on, took it off, put it on again, preened at myself in front of the mirror. I examined the lining, the collar, the strength of the stitching holding the buttons. I could feel the salespeople looking at me, questioning my sanity. 

In the end, I decided that despite the bargain price, the jacket was not a financially reasonable purchase. Because I really had no need for such an opulent piece that wasn't even my size. My most expensive heels are from Marshall's. I hate blue cheese. And so my forty-five dollars would have been wasted. (If you're in the Dallas area and want to know the name of the store I was in, shoot me an email.) Will I regret passing the jacket up? Maybe. But I'm not sweating it.

This outfit? All thrifted. Damn proud of it. And much, much more me.

Are you a devoted bargain-hunter? If so, where do you set your limits?

Thrifted Blues Heroes leather jacket; thrifted Sleeping on Snow flutter-sleeve cardigan; thrifted Michael Stars henley; thrifted Seven For All Mankind jeans; thrifted Doc Martens; Urban Outfitters flower studs.

Snow chickens and cardigans

Ah, winter. Season of frozen fingertips, meager daylight hours, and lost gloves. I am not a fan of Old Man Winter. The arrival of cold weather typically zaps my energy until I discover a hidden stash of Halloween candy in the back of the pantry, which I chew through and immediately feel disgusting. Then I try to decide whether I want to clean out my closet, or mop, or dust the whole house (all at the same time) or reorganize the pantry, or catch up on TV episodes I recorded six months ago. Orrrr...hibernate like a furry woodland creature.

There's a lot to be said about mid-winter days. It's undeniably fun to be cozy, and to snuggle deep into down throws, and to drink hot toddies, and break out all those clothes like Uggs and woolly scarves and coats. That is truly the highlight of the season, as far as I'm concerned. Dragging out your favorite boots + sweaters from last year is super fun, although I always image that they are understandably bitter after being put out of sight during the hot summer months, tucked silently into the dark reaches of your closet with only a missing glove and frayed scarf to keep them company. I suspect my winter clothes are especially irritable because they know that deep down I resent them, a little, because they represent the endless blustery Iowa winters.

Aside from releasing the warm clothes from storage, the really good thing about winter is crouching near a blazing fire listening to the wind blow and knowing I don't have to be out in it. My Dallas suburb was blanketed by five inches of snow on Sunday, and I found great pleasure in watching my kids construct a rather impressive snow chicken (no snowmen for our family! We're wacky like that) while I huddled inside. The snow did give me the opportunity to break out my favorite super warm cardigan, an activity that provided a much needed boost to my mood.

Gap cardigan, Michael Stars long-sleeved tee; Gap Outlet jeggings; Michael Kors boots; Nordstrom necklace; vintage Coach satchel; Forever 21 belt; ancient gold huggie earrings.

Thirty things that make life worth living

1. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
2. Cupcakes.
3. The beach.
4. Thrift stores.
5. Lying in bed listening to the rain.
6. Giggling.
7. Long conversations late into the night.
8. Going to the movies.
9. Running through sprinklers.
10. Laughing at an inside joke.
11. Laughing so hard your sides hurt.
12. Just plain laughing.
13. Having someone tell you you're beautiful.
14. Walking through fall leaves.
15. New boots.
16. Making new friends.
17. Sushi.
18. Dinner out with old friends.
19. Playing with a new puppy or kitten or any other small furry animal.
20. Jeans.
21. Sitting around a roaring fire.
22. Blogging.
23. Making chocolate chip cookies.
24. Road trips.
25. Being in love with someone that loves you back.
26. Overhearing someone saying something nice about you.
27. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours to sleep.
28. Maker's Mark whiskey.
29. Bookstores.
30. Fresh flowers.

Gap blazer; thrifted Gap floral button-down; Michael Stars tunic; Gap jeggings; thrifted belt; Boutique 9 booties; Forever 21 necklaces; Target pyramid studs