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last gasp

29 Oct

This morning, we decided to go to Burlington to try to find some papel picado. I was surprised when our local Mexican grocer not only didn’t have them but didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked after them. I’ve never lived any place where papel picado was not readily available. It kind of punctuates the total lack of multiculturalism in Bellingham, which has been bumming me out lately. On the bright side, however, the local Mexican grocer DID have a rad piñata for $8, perfect for George’s birthday party, and a pack of loteria cards with which I plan to torture our Halloween guests (planned games — sorry, gang). Last night I finally hemmed a Goodwill dress I got a few weeks ago. It was calf-length and, intact, really enhanced my 1970s high school guidance counselor look, but in trying to look presentable and not costumed, I needed to shorten it up a bit.

Pardon my vague disgust.

What happened once we arrived in Burlington was a little bit magical. We discovered that the first Mexican grocer on our list shared a parking lot with a Value Village and a Humane Society charity shop. George fell asleep, and I generously offered to jump out of the car and pop into the thrift stores while Nathan drove the sleeping babe around. I admired the adoptable kitties, found a book of folk songs, a 1970s approximation of Hooked on Phonics but way, way cuter and a red knit turban I imagine was worn by — yes, you guessed it — a high school guidance counselor circa 1972. The boys turned up, as George had roused, and I made my way to the register where there were, behind the counter, not one but TWO packages of pristine papel picado. For a dollar each. !!! I told the checkout lady that we’d come for papel picado and had just decided to look around before we went to the Mexican store. “They’ve never carried these!” She said. So we bought them, called it a day and got some lunch.

As for the outfits, neither mine nor George’s is terribly flattering. George got cold so we had to double layer hoodies, giving him an even fluffier than usual appearance. I have no excuse other than this: I always try to wear belts, because I feel like I should, and I wind up looking like I’m wearing a wench costume. Big boobs, man. They’re a heartbreaker sometimes.

On me:
dress – vintage, Goodwill
tights – Hue, Nordstrom
sweater – American Eagle but from TJ Max, I think
booties – Mi shoes
belt – vintage, thrifted
bag – LAMB

on George:
tights – gap
shorts – Macy’s (in Texas)
visible sweatshirt – Yo Gabba Gabba!
hat – gift from our amazingly talented friend, Nell


“mother wanted me to come out in a kimono…”

26 Oct

It’s only Tuesday and I’m already re-thinking my participation in this week-long fashion post thing. One problem: taking photos is hard/stupid work. Oh, the woes of being a stay at home mother, when one must take pictures of oneself for one’s blog and 95% of said photos wind up being extreme close-ups of one’s white beret.

I’m gonna go ahead and put all of these up in case you needed a chuckle. The camera really doesn’t do justice to this lovely scarf. I stole it from Nathan, to whom it was gifted. The other day, I said, “I’m stealing this because you never wear it.” To which he replied, “I wore it all last Winter!” “You did not,” I said, “because I wore it all last Winter!” So, cousin Michelle, the adept knitter, thanks from both of us!

This is my favorite jacket. Its peak wearability is in Springtime, but with long sleeves or a hoodie underneath it’s usually usable through November. Anoraks, in general, I’ve found, are pretty timeless. I can’t think of a era of my life when I didn’t have one and wear it to death. If I could have any anorak my chilly little heart desired, it would be this one though that’s entirely impractical for the kind of weather we’re in for (hi again, la nina! que onda?).

I look forward to boot weather from May until October. Same deal for scarf weather. I am currently looking into having my pair of black foldover boots re-soled, or having the soles rubberized or something, because the last time I wore them, I fell in the Haggen parking lot not once but twice, smashing my groceries on the ground and breaking a bottle of wine, thus staining my Bayside Montessori shopping bag with red wine (classy). The first time I fell, the guy fetching carts asked if I was okay. The second time, I think he assumed I was drunk. Has anyone had boots fixed for slippage? Does it make the nice thin sole look clunky?

I like to think of George and me as big and little Edie, though who’s who in that equation is debatable. One of us is almost always wearing a weird hat.

On me:
anorak – J Crew
navy cords – old navy (when something fits, i buy multiples whenever possible; note last post.)
boots – Nine West
shirt – American Apparel
scarf – Nathan’s cousin Michelle
hat – H&M

On George:
footy pants – gap
shirt – C&C California
flannel – thrifted, but old navy
hat – homemade

the best costume for the day

23 Oct

Today we went to the pumpkin patch. I had never been to a pumpkin patch, at least not one that I remembered. This one kind of blew my mind: apple pull-aparts with caramel and ice cream, photo-ops a plenty, a rocking horse corral, chickens(!) and a contraption that lead a goat through a path into the air where it stopped to take a nap and your child could ring a bell furiously from a seemingly related station on the ground. What? I know!

The farm was huge and beautiful, with an apple orchard where you could choose an apple and eat it straight from the tree for a mere 25 cents, which is a markup of about ten percent from the grocery store down the street from my house that sells exactly the same apples. If you care about those things. But I don’t! So we did that.

I dearly love dressing George for these sorts of outings. Wondering which jacket, romper, hat or t-shirt will become one of his signature pieces — the kind you look back on in photos and remember wearing — is such great fun. This was no exception, and since I knew we’d be taking lots of pictures of him, his little baby BFFs and us as a family, I made sure his outfit was representative of what he normally wears but still festive. I tried to do the same for myself, but there’s just no competing with a vintage Izod hooded, argyle sweater. Without further ado, here we are, as style-y as we get with any regularity:

I simply can’t bring myself to take a straight-on, posed photo of myself, you guys. Those who do this monthly or weekly, my hat is off to you.

On me:
t-shirt: art in the age of mechanical reproduction
cords: old navy
jacket: Ralph Lauren, from Macy’s
sneakers (almost dead, alas): Jack Purcell, from (I think) Famous Footwear, like 3 years ago
sunglasses: F21

On George:
sweater: vintage IZOD, Value Village
pants: Target
onesie: Carter’s, but probably from Value Village
legwarmers: mama-made, from some ladies’ cashmere socks
shoes: Robeez, hand-me-downs