Archive for the ‘Fashion Blogging for Toddlers’ Category

Never Gonna Get It

December 5, 2016

To think that a mere month ago I was ogling this very expensive but utterly adorable leopard print bunny clutch:1067196_1_large

And now I can’t even FANTASIZE about it without feeling guilty imagining those hundreds of pounds that could go toward a down payment on that off-the-grid goat farm we might need to buy as the apocalypse looms.  DONALD TRUMP IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.

A Dark Fairytale (Or the Start of One)

November 22, 2016

So the husband and I were shopping one day in Budapest, and we stopped at a flea market.  Husband saw these children’s shoes, and was like, “We can get these vintage leather shoes for our future kid and then our baby will be super hip.”  So we were talking to the lady, who told us the price, and as we’re taking the bag after we’ve given her the money, she says, “They are really amazing, from before World War II.”  And then we’re walking out and my husband goes pale and says, “Oh fuck, these are definitely some little dead Jewish kid’s shoes…”  And now we have Holocaust booties and can’t figure out what to do with them.  They’re just sitting being creepy on our front hallway table.  HAPPY TUESDAY EVERYONE.

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Farce?

September 4, 2016

On a tour of the Buckingham Palace State Rooms, the audio tour narrator says, “This is the theater for the pageantry of monarchy.”  I didn’t know you guys were so self aware!

Shoe Poms

August 24, 2016

A big tragedy as of late was that these shoe pom-poms were sold out.  I swear, sometimes I feel like I live in a war zone, given all I go through…

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I don’t have the best kicks to go with these, though, so…

Calling All Jewish Jewelry Designers

March 9, 2016

I’ve long been enamored of this story of Hasidic rabbi from Poland:

It was said of Reb Simcha Bunem that he carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one he wrote: Bishvili nivra ha-olam—“for my sake the world was created.” On the other he wrote: V’anokhi afar v’efer”—“I am but dust and ashes.” He would take out each slip of paper as necessary, as a reminder to himself.

So enamored, in fact, that I’ve always hoped some spiritual jewelry designer would read my mind and make a necklace homage to this saying.  Ideally, the necklace would be a simple gold, circle pendant, each side engraved with one of the sayings.

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And yes, I do realize I can probably just have one made, and maybe I’ll do that, but I just thought I’d give some young upstart the chance to roll with a pretty great idea.  #mitzvah!

 

 

THE FIRST STEP IS ADMITTING YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

January 13, 2016

I have found Petite Meller’s publicist’s email, and am thinking of writing him to ask if he could let me know when her album comes out so I can write a profile piece on her I plan to title “Weird for the Jews.”  Because apparently her real name is Sivan, and she spent much of her teen years in Tel Aviv, although she likes to play up the French aspect of her persona (in the very Greek sense of the word) and basically ignore the Jewish part.  Self-hating?  Another connection to Freud?  WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME?

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I would just bypass the publicist and sign up for her mailing list, but that would mean being part of her self-titled “little empire” (echoes of Lady Gaga here?)  Maybe for the profile, she and I can go hat-shopping together in London and she can tell me whether her hair at the end of the video for Barbaric was supposed to resemble payot or if that was just coincidental?

Manic Monday

January 11, 2016

One time, a friend of mine told me he liked my blog because it was a throwback to those days when people just “wrote about anything they felt like” on their sites.  I guess now it’s all too polished (aka written for an audience of people other than said blogger’s father, husband, and lone friend who likes ad lib) and curated and sponsored.  Well, no one sponsors me, so I guess I can just say what I like!  Which is helpful on this particular Monday, because I haven’t been unproductive exactly, but I just can’t seem to concentrate on anything for more than twenty seconds at a time.  Below are the subjects I find myself flitting between:

  1. I’m way late to this game, but damn, Petite Meller is one weird child-woman.  It makes me uncomfortable to watch her pale ass writhing around in a pastel onesie, and yet I have had this video on in the background basically all morning. I think these Kenyan schoolgirls might be my newest fashion obsession.  I’ve considered Googling “African private school straw hats” a few times in the past hour, but I’m worried Google would just shoot back, “You’re a fucking racist.”  And it would be justified in doing so.Petite_BBLV_09Also, when I finally get around to creating my hat label, Whimsical Haberdashery, Petite Meller will definitely model my first season.  Last note on her: she’s apparently obsessed with Freud, and The Guardian just ran a long piece on the return psychoanalysis, which I recommend although I’m too lazy to link to it.  Bottom line: Way to go, Freud!  You may be dead but you’re still killing it!
  2. I keep meaning to tell someone this because I think it’s hysterical, but the other night I had a dream that the only “serious” critic (whatever that means) to give my book a mediocre review and I drove on ATVs to the Grand Canyon for a little day trip.  It was really fun, actually.  I think we should consider doing it in real life.
  3. I’m pursuing a number of very different stories at the moment, and ergo am trying to find a bunch of new sources and have no idea how to go about getting them, aside from this: if you happen to have a son at the Westminster Abbey Choir School, or are a Hare Krishna convert who wears a traditional robe most of the time, or you’re currently in drug rehab and considering becoming a Christian, or maybe you wear the same thing to work every day a la Matilda Kahl, shoot me a note.
  4. I’m lying to you and to myself here––I haven’t been thinking about any of the above.  I’ve just been looking at pictures of Petite Meller.  WHY.  I get the whole shtick, right now, immediately.  I don’t need to hear her breathy whispers about her philosophy degree or her one-woman campaign to help us all bring our libidinal subconsciouses (subconsciousnesses?) to light––I see where this is all headed, which makes me hate it.  So why am I lusting after her fake-rosacea?  Lord, grant me the strength to resist her (but not yet.)

    Oh and PS, she totally stole this hat idea from me.  Ask my husband.  He knows.

    Oh and PS, she totally stole this hat idea from me. Ask my husband. He knows.

Terrible Game Tuesday

November 10, 2015

Time for a new game: of these portraits of Victorian ladies, which ones were taken on psych wards and which ones are just, well, your average Victorian lady?

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(I could have kept going for ages, for the record.)

Email Siobhan for the answers!

This Was the Aesthetic!

October 21, 2015

Guys, remember when I had my psychic dream?  THIS is what we were wearing.

Groovy.

Groovy.

Meringue Hat

October 19, 2015

I really should have a category called Whimsical Haberdashery, but I think I might be done adding categories.  I mean, at a certain point, expansion becomes procrastination, no?  Speaking of procrastination, I wanted to work today, but I went to a family wedding last night so I was tired and lazy and ended up watching a lot of (really good) movies and eating an entire medium pizza by myself.  A day that sounds funny in the context of a Girls episode––millennials, they’re so stupid and yet witty!––but is actually just kind of sad in real life.  But you know what isn’t sad?  This drawing of a meringue hat, which I told my husband I wanted the other day.  It was done by Will Cotton, my new art crush.  Will, can you make me one of these IRL?  Great, thankssomuch.

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