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National Craft Month: Day 11

12 Mar

2″ Popsicle stick dollsday 11

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Pits: A Brief History

6 Jan

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I haven’t been able to sleep for the past few days.  Not sure why really.  No, I won’t take Ambien.  Not anymore.  Not after that unfortunate experience that wound up on video-tape.  Anyway, last night as I lay there staring at the wall, the thought came to me:

“When did women start shaving their pits?”

For some reason I was thinking about colonial women.  Which is what led to the pit question.  Usually these middle-of-the-night musings are forgotten by dawn.  But not today.  So I’m sharing the info with you…because I’m fairly certain it’s a question that WANTS to be answered by some of you out there.

I heard a rumor that back in 4000 B.C., women were using dangerous substances like arsenic and quicklime to get the job done. I just wish there was more solid information on what led to the desire to shave the pits at all.  There had to be an initial conversation that led to all of this.  THAT is what I wish I was privy to.  Instead, I was forced to learn that in May of 1915,  Harper’s Bazaar informed us that if we wanted to wear the fashionable sleeveless dress, then we’d better rid ourselves of any objectionable hair.  

It’s apparent that not all individuals subscribe to Harper’s Bazaar.  And that’s fine.  I ain’t mad atcha.

Educate yourself, people.  Underarm Hair.

Dolls and Peeing Dogs

13 Sep

Cute, right?  Barbie….the little puppies…awww.  WRONG!  Not cute at all.  Barbie lays down some paper for her wittle pups…then the pups come over and pee all over the paper and beautiful pictures and colors appear!!  Wow-wee!  Can you believe it?!  Because this is what happens, right?  Your new little puppy pees on paper and makes beautiful art.

No.  New little puppies pee all over your house, resulting in you having to replace the carpet and tell people they can’t come in your house anymore because the urine stench is unbearable.  Who ARE these people making these decisions?!  I’ll bet they smoke weed.  They all sit around a conference table and pass around a blunt….the ideas start flowing like cider…next thing you know, we’re buying our kids peeing pups and street-walkers all in the name of good fun.

Seriously though…I’d love to be a guest on their panel.  I’ve got some ideas of my own that are fairly catchy and marketable.  Such as:

1)  Carl the Crack-head Spends the Night! ~ comes with his very own crack-pipe and sleeping bag.  Pull the string and he pees his pants. Tons ‘o fun to be had by all!

2)  Polly the Pick-Pocket: Stealing has never been so fun!

3)  Homeless Hannah:  Looking for a good home and a hot meal!  Her legs even bend.  She comes with nothing.

4)  Bipolar Brianna:  She hates you and you shouldn’t buy her because she’s worthless anyway.

5)  Doug the Fairy:  Use your imagination to remove Doug’s face stubble and Adam’s apple.  Great for grown-ups too!

I’ll be waiting for your phone call, Mattel.  Holla back!

Crafting Fail of the Century

9 Sep

It’s hard for me to know what to say here.  There are some folks out there who should just back away from the craft table…ya know what I mean?  The “crafter” of the product shown above is one of those people.

And what exactly IS this botched crafty craft craft?  A mitten?  Mmm…no.  A sock?  Mmm…no.  A kilt gone awry?  Mmm…no no NO.  I want you to brace yourself here.  Go empty your bladder, have prayer and devotions and come on back.

*crickets*

Okay.  You ready?  Okay.  Craft Fail of the century…..(drumroll puhlease)….

REUSABLE HYGIENE PRODUCT…(MAXI PAD)…MADE FROM OLD PAJAMA PANTS AND TOWELS.

You puked a little in your mouth, didn’t you?  It’s okay.  I came a bit unglued myself after realizing what I was looking at.  Then I started thinking….what exactly IS the process here?  At what point did these women look at each other and say, “Our planet is in peril.  We must go forth and sew maxi-pads.  Women unite!”

I thought maybe this particular craft-fail was one in a million.  You know…a lone weird wolf who was out to save the world.  But then Google informed me that I was sadly mistaken.  Turns out there’s an intensely devoted underground movement dedicated to the production, distribution and marketing of reusable feminine hygiene products.  I have no doubt that I’ll receive hate mail after I publish this post, condemning my wonton ways and irresponsible reporting.  Not to mention my complete lack of  a conscience. Would it be out of line if I replied, “Don’t get your panties ‘n pads in a wad!”?

If you think I’m lying, here’s hard-core evidence.  (I’m kinda partial to the Cupcake Maxi myself.)

Abercrombie Hates Fat People

11 May

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A couple of years ago I wrote an article blasting Abercrombie & Hooch Fitch for designing a skimpy bikini for anorexic 8 year olds.  Now I’m back blasting them again.  I was sitting here this fine Saturday morning, enjoying my coffee…when Spouse says, “Hey. Did you hear about that Abercrombie jerk saying he hated fat chicks and he had army militants guarding their stores to keep them out?”

Spouse likes to exaggerate news headlines to ensure I’ll go look the stuff up…which will propel me into a frenzy.  And this frenzy will lead to me yelling, “Oh no he didn’t!” , which is usually followed by furious writing.  This frees up his morning to watch ESPN without interruption.  I act like I’m ignorant to his Master Plan but I’m totally on to him.

Back to the news.  Abercrombie’s CEO, Mike Jeffries, hates fat chicks.  And by fat I mean anyone who can’t fit into a size 10 that runs 2 sizes too small.  Seriously.  And I quote:

“We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends,” Jeffries said. “A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely.”

You know what this makes me want to do, right?  Oh c’mon. You know….put on my sundress from Walgreens, my Crocs and my fabulous fanny-pack and trot my fine hiney all UP into Abercrombie and immediately accost the first embryo size chick I find and start snapping my hands all in her face like, “Oh what.  You think I’m fat?  Huh?  You been walking around with your bow legged little self talking about how I’m FAT?  Oh, I got your fat right here (patting my fanny-pack).  You don’t know me!  So you BEST keep my name out yo mouf or I’ll be all back up in this place next week and I might just buy something and make you watch the horrific trainwreck that will be me in a size 10 pair of low-to-the-flo risers.  Also, this will something that will burn your retinas and make you twitch slightly for the rest of the your natural born life.”

On a side note, is it me or does Mike Jeffries look like that chick who got maimed in some back alley doctor’s office?

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Botanical Art Exhibit Entry: The Legacy

10 May

Okay, kids.  Here’s my entry, ‘The Legacy’, for the Botanical Art Exhibit featuring bridal bouquets.  The bride in the background is my mother-in-law….who is celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary next month!

Check it out and give it a Facebook ‘Like’, if you like!  (Click on pic to enter exhibit.)

 

 

I’m a Slacker

10 Dec

I’m posting these pics because I didn’t have time to make the traditional Christmas dress for the kid this year.  I made all this mess last year when she went to the Grove Park Inn to view the monstrous gingerbread houses.  When she found out she was going, she dropped the not-so-subtle hint:

“I think I will need a gingerbread dress.  Oh!  And a bag.  And probably a little something for my hair.”

When I passed this on to the Husband, he replied with:

“I don’t know what’s worse.  Her demanding this or you going out and actually making all of it.”

Oh, get over it, Daddy.  This is a girl-manipulating-her-Mama thang.  You wouldn’t understand.

Prosti-Tots: And This is Okay?!

1 Dec

After my daughter’s first dance recital, it became abundantly clear that we were in no way, shape or form destined for the pageant circuit.  I think now I understand why the pageant moms are always looking rough.  They’re flat worn out.  They’ve had to wrangle a 4-year-old into pantyhose, wigs, layers of tulle, 8 pounds of stage make-up, fake eye-lashes, nails and spray tanning.  They should give a trophy to the Mom who shows up looking fresh as a daisy after getting her little queen ready for the stage.  Seriously.

You should’ve seen us dancing moms backstage.  We were all sweating like a gang of menopausal heffers, screaming at our kids, “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THAT HAIRBOW!  DON’T DO IT!  QUIT RUBBING YOUR EYES!  YOU’LL SMEAR YOUR MASCARA!  QUIT CRYING!!  NOW!”

One of Cali’s sweet little friends had the backbone to DO what the rest of the kids WANTED to do, but DIDN’T out of unnatural fear.  She just stood there on stage…frowning into the light…not giving one hoot ‘n holler about dancing or looking pleased to be there.  That would’ve been me.

Anyway…earlier today I came across a blog talking about a book called “High Glitz: The Extravagant World of Child Beauty Pageants” by Susan Anderson.  She walks you through the process that these kids go through in the great quest for tiaras and trophies.  I’m talking nuts here, people!  NUTS!  I’ll go ahead and admit I have an odd fascination with pageants.  Not because I want to participate.  What fascinates me is the brazen exploitation of these children followed by treats and rewards.

Call me Amish…but I have a problem with five-year olds who look like 23-year-old women of ill repute.  The term “natural beauty” is offensive in the pageant world.  Their idea of “natural beauty” is fake teeth and airbrushing.  FAKE TEETH!  I believe they’re called “flippers” in the industry.  And you ain’t big-time until you got a flipper, hunny.

Places like “Unity Smile: The Flipper People” cater to pageant-eers looking for oral perfection.  And it’s not like you can go find those things in a consignment shop.  Well, maybe you CAN…but you really wouldn’t want your little piece of precious running around on stage with George Washington teeth.  It wouldn’t be the responsible thing to do.

And there’s pageant lingo.  Stuff like ‘Casual Wear’, ‘Crowning Dress’, ‘Boutique Outfit’, ‘Cupcake’, ‘Glitz’.  If I sent my kid up on stage in her ‘Casual Wear’…she’d be…well…nekkid. Eating a cupcake.  Some mamas see tutu’s and lip-gloss in their daughter’s future.  I see Art school, professional sports and communal living.

I live in the deep south…the bowels of pageant country.  Home to some of the most beautiful people on the planet.  When my daughter was a few months old, people began to talk.

“Oh, this divine child needs to be on stage, sweet-haht!  Would you just LOOK at those lashes?  She wouldn’t even need falsies! She’s precious…simply precious!  Let me contact ******* for you, mkay?  He’s who you’ll want to help with choreography, style, glamuh.  Let me just grab his cahd.”

It would confuse them when I laughed maniacally at their suggestion.  Perhaps if they would’ve looked behind me, they would’ve seen the Divine Child, picking her nose and ingesting its contents like it was prime rib.

I’m not bashing the entire pageant kingdom.  Just the ones that promote and celebrate itty bitty kids who look like prostitutes.  You know…Prosti-Tots.

Maybe I’m biased……but I think my daughter reeks of natural beauty…and I hope she grows up knowing that beauty comes from a place that can’t be altered by man.  This is my daughter.  You can’t manufacture a mess this hot:

 

I (Heart) Blue Shoes ‘n Soles

28 Sep

Okay.  I’m officially obsessed with blue soles.  I think I’m gonna bust out some Tiffany blue craft paint and get started on my Keds.  In the meantime, I have collaged for you.

 

Lelli Kelly + Lilly Pulitzer = Too Stinkin’ Cute For Words

7 Sep

Lelli Kelly and Lilly Pulitzer are, bar none, my fave little girl fashion.  It’s like eye-candy on short legs!  One hot mess of a wardrobe!   If I had my own clothing line, I’d call it “Stanky Cute” and it’d be a total rip-off of Lelli & Lilly.  Imitation is flattery, right?

Click on either collection to visit the sites where these item are for sale.

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