“You want me to do what???”

“Life has a funny way of working itself out sometimes,” I said to a couple of my closest friends today. You see, I believe we all have a dream lodged somewhere deep within, and destiny knows how to pull it out of us, even if we’re kicking and screaming. I believe each person is born equipped  with three important resources: talent, time, and opportunity. The union of the three, in the right season, are very profound in their ability to accomplish something meaningful.  But, let’s talk about the season when the talent lay dormant; the opportunity unfounded and the time never right. What about the quiet moments when you’ve asked yourself  “Do I even have a ‘gifting’?” Have you been there?  Well, I have…the last 3 years, actually. So much so, that when a local non-profit approached me about helping to orchestrate a fashion show fundraiser, last summer I declined.  Moreover, I gave suggestions on those I deemed far more suitable for such a project. After all, there is no lack when it comes to fashion-lovin’ girls in my community.  In January, I received a second call to revisit the discussion.  This time, it felt a little different. The season had changed, and I had too.

Sometimes, the things you think you can’t do are exactly the ones you should be yielding your heart toward.

I thought to myself, “I love pretty clothes. I love people. I love giving. I was invited. ”  Those are the only qualifications I need.  So, despite a nugget of reservation, I braved my first fashion show! Don’t mind if I share some pictures, do you?  These were taken during the preparation process, right before I learned we’d have nearly 100 guests for our “little”  fashion show luncheon! Eeek! You’ll have to wait until next post for me to share how it turned out. Hint: I’m heart full and smiling big.  

Etcetera Clothing.

Friday evening was spent fitting models, selecting looks and who would wear them, creating the runway lineup and pulling shoes and accessories GALORE!

This is my dress for the show.  Charlie Jade, at Hattie’s Branches. Check out their wonderful shop!


I’m Growling With My Shoes

At times you must formulate and execute your aggression both strategically and subtly. I expressed mine via shoes which channel the inner cheetah…and a bracelet with spikes. Consider yourself warned. I am not to be messed with today.

Dress: J. Crew, Shoes: Nine West, Jewelry: Stella & Dot, Watch: Michael Kors

“Fashion Is A Social Agreement?”

“Fashion is a Social Agreement.the result of a consensus of a large group of people”a quote I stumbled upon from an ol’skool costume designer and author. Love the statement, but because I don’t groove on 18th century Victorian gowns or their origin, I can’t tell you much more about her. What I will share is that I struggle with people bossin’ me around. It makes me feel stifled. So, rather than letting public opinion decide what I would wear today, I opted for a dot revolution. That’s right. The dots selected green. If they were to be paired with an article all day, it must be the green pencil. The orange belt was my vote. “En Vogue?”  You can decide.

Speaking of people, consensus, agreements and such, it should be noted that I spent 2 hours on a conference call. It was a very fancy call-all set up with share screens and live meeting features. And if that wasn’t exciting enough, I met my partners for a 4 hour deliberation on content and delivery of our blessed account profiles.  Sigh. I really can’t talk about it. Exhausting. A new consensus has risen in my arena of corporate America regarding sales results: tests = performance. I say tests=scores. But, I’m not in charge. When I’m in charge wildly unwise things happen, like consuming the entire Chocolate Chipper bag of cookies from Panera Bread. I, left to my own devices, felt they might bring some encouragement. Clearly, they did not. I am now suffering from brain incapacity AND stomach pain.  Wait, you didn’t really ask me about that did you?

I think we can all agree that  it’s time for me to bid you adieu! I’m off to study!

“When Your Dad Gets Home….”

I’m going to tell him, in list format, the following:

1. I was in and out of the post office, the Starbucks drive-thru, and the pre-school book fair with your two children in tow, before 9:30 this morning.

2. Whilst braving the I-4 traffic and carrying an obscene & undisclosed amount of returns to Nordstrom, an 18-wheeler nearly clipped me.He ran me right into the left lane. Had it not been for my don’t dial and drive rule, I’d have let him know EXACTLY “how’s my driving”, alright.

3. Did you know that before you can even swipe the card for return credit, your monkey kids can be up and down the escalator 2 times??

4. My eye is still black from the golf ball, only now, when people stare at me they glance over at the children. THEY KNOW. “Those kids did that to her.” Steve, you are SO off-the-hook.

5. In reward for their obnoxious behavior, and because I was clearly outnumbered, I rewarded them with a visit to the mall playground.

6. On the yard, a child predator (I know this due to my keen discernment and ability to intimidate even the most freakish with my fearless I’m-gonna-kill-you stare down) snapped a picture of your daughter with his cell-phone.  He was alone and had exited the Disney store with a bag.  When he saw me staring, he winced, fidgeted and scurried up the stairs. Moments later, I looked up and he was trying to take another photo. I glared right at him, picked up my phone as if I was calling and he darted off.  I took the kids into the Disney store to report it. Mall security was called to the scene. The man shopped alone, purchasing 2 small girls shirts, according to the clerk. And you wonder why I’m psychotic about watching these kids every second!!!?

7. After my Rambo moment in the mall, I felt the need to resort to a more dignified activity. I took your monkeys to Nordstrom Bistro. They used nice manners….for horses.

8. We exited the mall, and I drove home clutching tightly the plastic spoon you wave at them on occasion. It works much better for you, I’m certain.

9. They slept for 40 minutes in the car before staging the afternoon revolt. I sang a song about glory and angels and peace, or something like that.

10.  At 4:45, I locked myself in the house and stared at them out the window.  I prayed for my safety.


The Wifey

When Steve pulled into the driveway, I marched directly to my room. I rolled the hair, put on some makeup and a fancy necklace because this girl don’t do “BAG LADY”!  Truth is, I sure felt like one today  and danced a celebratory jig when they went to chick-fil-a tonight!

Shorts & Tank: Target, Shoes: B. Makowsky, Bag: Nordstrom, Jewelry and Hair flower: Stella & Dot

Ain’t Too Proud To Dig!

Lately, it seems I’ve been pre-occupied with rather unusual things. Most intriguing, and certainly the one that had me distracted most, was turning 35.  It’s true. Last week, I snuck over into the great, wide mid-thirties.  Because I fully believe in embracing age and all of the milestones that come with it, I look at the fabulousness of the older generation, with high hopes and great vision. Tis true that gravitational pull declares war against me. I’ve begun to see dimples in the wrong cheeks, fine lines when I smile, increased consequences for poor food choices, and hints of grey. In many cases, clothing I used to like seems less suitable.  I actually attended a committee meeting this week where I uttered the words “I’d totally wear that if I were 10 years younger.”  Gosh, the years sneak up on you.  Yet, rather than mourn the glory days of my youth, I strive focus on what I aspire to become as I graciously approach the fall and winter years.  I explained this to my husband by saying, One day, I will have a silver bob. I will not highlight it. One day, I will peer over the lenses of the most distinguished and sassy pair of bifocals. One day, I will buy a St. John Suit.”

Coincidence always has a way of finding me out, I suppose. For only two days later, I ventured into a thrift store (a newfound interest of mine), and discovered my very first St. John Knit, albeit premature, at a price point much less than my years. Funny, isn’t it?  Hey, I ain’t too proud to dig! What a find!

Blouse: St John, Trousers: Ann Taylor Loft, Handbag: Kate Spade, Shoes: Tory Burch, Necklace: Stella&Dot, Watch: Michael Kors, Sunglasses: Tom Ford

Lemon Chiffon?

“Lemon Chiffon?”

“No, Thank you. I’d much prefer tangerine.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have tangerine”, the server chuckled.”

“Really. Well then….chocolate cake, I suppose.  It’ll do.”  

“Tangerine chiffon would have been the perfect delight”, I thought as I awaited the chocolate mousse.  Feeling quite blue over an orange deficit, I realized that if I couldn’t have it in a cake,  I must have it in a dress. And that’s exactly what happened next. Last evening, I ordered a vintage 1960’s chiffon mini, with delicious billowy sheer sleeves and a braided belt. The Pantone color chart made me do it. More importantly, I guess you could say it’s what inspired the name of this blog.  Something about the fabric, or cake by the same name captivates me.  I suppose the fancy free, airy lightness of it is the true culprit. At the end of the day, don’t we all want to be free? Light-hearted? Bouncy, even? Ok…maybe the bounce just applies to me. Nevertheless, I thought about last year’s Shopfast and what an adventure it was and how I mourned a bit when it was over. “Now what?”After all, I learned that I have a knack for story-telling and I kinda like it. And, now I shall chronicle the extravagant gifts of life in my every day details….one scribble at a time.

I am back and I want to twirl.

Blouse: Hattie’s Branches, Trousers: The Loft, Shoes: Nordstrom