I made another escape to the National Gallery today, a special trip to see "Beat Memories," an exhibition of photography by Allen Ginsberg. Beat poetry was the first poetry movement I ever identified with -- my first creative writing teacher, a slightly crazy-eyed fiction and poetry writer who included his actual detention slips in his coming-of-age novel, turned me on to the Beats -- and seeing Ginsberg's photographs of Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Gary Snyder, Ferlinghetti and their hangers-on was like getting a voyeur's view into the banality of their lives. Here is the apartment Ginsberg kept in San Francisco, here is Burroughs on the roof of their building in New York, here is the view from the kitchen window Ginsberg sat and stared from for years, in winter, spring and summer.
He rediscovered photography as a medium in his later years, and began adding extensive captions to his photos, sometimes rambling bits of poetic thoughts, sometimes details about the subjects and what they were doing.
This self-portrait, taken on Ginsberg's 70th birthday, included details about what he was wearing. Who would have thought that all of our indulgent sartorialist posts had such a noble beginning?
Note: his ensemble includes high-end (Oleg Cassini) and thrift (Goodwill). Truly, a man after my own heart.
I almost never go shopping with a certain item in mind. Almost never. (See: BONE PUMPS.)
When I do go shopping, looking for a certain thing, I almost never find it. (See: 10 bathing suits tried on last weekend; 0 bathing suits purchased.)
Part of that is because I usually shop at thrift stores, and while I know I'm looking for "work pants," if I went in there looking for a specific pair, I'd make myself crazy. So instead, I know I'm looking for "work pants" and just pull everything I find in my size off the rack. Along with shirts, skirts, dresses and anything else that catches my eye along the way to the dressing room. Then I wheel my over-stuffed cart into the tiny room and start peeling layers off and shrugging layers on, standing on my tippy-toes and asking HM what she thinks.
And I've found some absolutely amazing pieces that way, simply by keeping an open eye and mind -- case in point, this dress that Her Madness is wearing. On our way home from the fruitless bathing suit shopping trip this weekend, we drove past a yard sale and this dress, hanging from a tree along with some other vintage-y looking pieces, just leapt out at me.
The best part?
It was a dollar.
ONE FREAKING DOLLAR for the absolute cuteness of it all.
And also? It's reversible. There's an almost-as-cute bear flying a kite on the other side, but this panda takes the cake. (Erm. The bamboo, I suppose.)
PS: Hig says this panda looks like a South Park panda. Sure, why not?
Dress: handmade by a nameless, faceless kind soul
I have a crush on Kai Ryssdal. I've never even seen his picture, but for a few years his was the voice giving the 10-minute Marketplace Morning Report on NPR. He kept me on schedule in the pre-insane commute days, when I knew if I hadn't gotten in the shower by the time his cheerful, frank commentary began, my morning was shot. God help me if I had a fashion crisis.
So Kai would talk about the stock market, the highs & lows, whose selling what & why I should care, and at the end of every segment, he'd sign off with "Make it a great day."
Kai's doing the evening report these days, which I almost never catch, and I miss his voice helping my morning run smoothly. But he's still helping me -- like I said, I listened to him for years and never thought about his sign-off until one morning I actually listened to the words and picked up on the ridiculously simple concept. Holy crap -- I can make it a great day!
So now I try hard to remember that I do have the ability to craft great days for myself, and to remember to enjoy the ride. This was Her Madness & I making our Friday a great day.
PS: in the second picture we're yelling REGINA PHALANGE.
Shirt: thrifted, Nearly New Sale
Jeans: thrifted
Silver ballerina flats: Payless
Assorted silver necklaces: flower from BH, "quirky" pendant from Sassy, glass teardrop pendant gifted from David Leight
Silver bangles: 3 of the 4 bequested from Lala, the other I found at an estate-sale warehouse we used to frequent
Okay, see, now I'm getting tired of this chilly rainy late-spring weather. Sure, for a while it was a novelty, wearing sweaters and boots and tights to work again. But now? I'm done.
This was one of those organic outfits that developed as I pulled things off hangers and from the backs of shelves. I count it a success because of HM's reaction: when I came downstairs, she got up from eating breakfast, walked over to me and very sweetly, very deliberately, touched my sweater, my skirt, my belt and my jacket, in that order and with her index finger, and then smiled and nodded.
Also because it was totally comfy and the skirt swoops around me when I move.
Jacket: found at the "Walmart" shed in my parents' tiny town
Green sweater: thrifted by MIL as a bday gift
Silver belt: thrifted
Skirt: actually a dress, one of my faves, purchased BHM
Leggings: self-made, Target tights that I cut
Silver ballerina flats: Payless
Sunday was just a ridiculously gorgeous day (especially when compared to the rain we're having as the week following it progresses), and after walking home from church I couldn't bear the thought of going back inside our dark and chilly-ish house. So it was a walk to the museum for the family, spending much of our time milling about the sculpture garden, taking advantage of the free jazz performance taking place, courtesy Baltimore City school kids. The free brownies were just a bonus.
I offered my entire outfit up to Her Madness, but she couldn't decide if she wanted me to wear a dress, skirt or pants, so I started with the pants and she built the outfit around them. These, by the way, are one of my favorite pair of pants -- comfy, soft, flowy cotton, with a flattering waistline and the perfect length for flats.
Teal sleeveless shirt: bequested, LF
Black pants: thrifted
Black ballerina flats: Payless
Bracelet: found (!) by Hig across the street from our house
Necklace: gifted, CRG
Ring: purchased in NYC a few years back, on a fabulous trip with ES#2
Black and white pic today, babies, just because it's so lovely and everything looks better in black and white. Took a field trip at lunch over to the Hirshhorn sculpture garden and a bit of time inside -- I have to keep reminding myself to take advantage of everything available in the immediate vicinity of my office. Once it gets colder/muggier-hotter I'll force myself to go inside some of the museums, but for now I'm doing as much outside as I can.
There were the to-be-expected gaggles of schoolkids all over the place -- we walked past a group of about six girls, lined up for a photo-op in their matching green shirts -- but also a few families with babes in strollers, enjoying the garden and getting some good shots for the scrapbook.
You're not missing much with the picture in black and white -- the only bits of color were the jacket and scarf: the jacket is the same from Mother's Day, that lovely deep velvety dark pinkish red, and the scarf is a gorgeous blue that's extra long and used to be impossible for me to wear without choking myself. Luckily I found these smart girls and have since learned all kinds of clever scarf tricks.
Scarf: vestige, purchased at a Lord & Taylor (I think) going-out-of-business sale
Jacket: thrifted
Grey dress: Forever 21, bequested, Neighbor J
Black tights: Target
Boots: Frye Harness
Picture courtesy CJT, photographer extraordinaire.
This dress is navy blue, so dark it's almost black, and combined with the bright red sweater, it all felt very patriotic. I thought it appropriate, though, for the first official day of my company's new CEO. What better way to express my company devotion than through my national pride?
When I put the belt over the sweater, Her Madness gasped with delight: Oh, mommy, it matches! Yes, baby, I'm just that good.
Special thanks to my lovely eldest Evil Stepdaughter for taking the pic.
Dress: thrifted as a birthday gift from MIL
Sweater: vestige, could easily date to BH (Before Hig)
Bone pumps: Nine West
Earrings: thrifted, Nearly New Sale
Mother's Day dawned sunny and breezy and chilly, temps struggling to get into the 50s in the morning. This is not where my brain has been for the last two weeks; see: short skirts, short (or no) sleeves. Got my game face on, though, and thanks to Her Madness's inspired accessorizing, rocked my fourth official Mother's Day and got some compliments to boot.
(She was responsible for the blue necklace and bracelet. I was all ready to wear the yellow version of the necklace, but she was adamant about the blue. And who am I to criticize the three-year-old fashion consultant?)
What you can't see under the jacket is the royal purple cardigan -- another nice shot of color for the inside part of the morning.
Velvety dark red jacket: thrifted
Black sleeveless shell: beqested, LF
Purple light wrap: bequested, RA
Black & white skirt (that billows and moves most pleasantly around me when I go down stairs): bequested, anonymous, via TRG Freecycle
Silver ballerina flats: Payless
Blue necklace: birthday gift for Her Madness, CRG & TCR
Blue bracelet: thrifted, purchased at my request by MIL
This isn't as tight an image as I'd normally like to post -- the focus of the pics, ideally, being the clothing -- but I couldn't bring myself to crop the image at all. Hig's been scouting locations for my daily shots, and was so pleased with this one (bonus points if you know where it is), and when I saw this pic, I was blown away. It's got so many of my favorite things: the gorgeous iron fence/window grate, the old lamps, the wonderful "golden time" light, and, obv, ME. (Humbleness is one of my better qualities.)
Everything visible is from the Nearly New Sale, again, down to the shoes. These were infinitely more comfortable than the other ones -- they're Isaac Mizrahi for Target, with a teensy kitten heel, and not terribly difficult for hoofing the mile between work & the train station. I didn't even need the sensible shoes I carried.
Shirt: soft, lovely, comfortable, pretty cap sleeves; American Eagle, I think; GBMC
Pants: The Limited (?), GBMC
Shoes: IM for Target, GMBC
I'm still nearly a neophyte when it comes to the GMBC Nearly New Sale -- last fall was my inaugural trip, and as I was unemployed at the time, I felt more guilt than joy at my finds. But this spring, with my fancy new job, I was good to go (yo).
It was a typical Baltimore August day (but it was the first Sunday in May) -- hot and sticky and almost overcast -- and the barn doesn't appear to have air conditioning. I felt woozy at times, reaching to high racks and shoving aside wrinkly dress shirts and unflattering skirts, sweat dripping down my back and into my mouth. The turnout was blissfully sparse, though, and the communal dressing room blissfully empty, and I felt almost heroic in my quest for bargains.
And bargains I found. I walked out some $60 poorer, with a bag full of skirts, shirts, earrings (including a clip-on pair for Her Madness), shoes (SHOES! TWO pair -- this is unheard of, in my gargantuan size!), pants and a dress, plus a funky little brass-looking box (made in India, the sticker on the bottom said) and a patinaed horse-head bottle opener for Hig.
These shoes deserve a better picture -- they're sweet, strappy, almost-sandal-looking, with a closed toe & heel and remarkably comfortable ... but not so much that my poor feet were blistered and majorly owee after walking to the train after work. Totally worth it, though.
Shirt: thrifted, from the boy's section
Skirt: GBMC, handmade, I think
Belt: from my grandpa's military dress uniform
Shoes: GBMC
Special thanks to LF, for introducing me to the Nearly New Sale last year, and making me an obsessive life-long fan.
I saw this tucked among the other eye-catcher mags on the rack at the 7-11 when it came out -- standing in line during a Sunday morning-after supply run for Gatorade, if you must know -- and immediately loved the 80s styling of the cover. Gisele's outfit, the pose, the colors of the shirt, the bangles, the layout, the colors of the headlines, everything -- LOVED.
Yet another example of what a pushover I am for style -- if I'd seen this 80s styling a few years ago, I would've gagged and run away. Now look what I've become. I'll be rocking some shoulder pads in the next year, just you wait.
I made another escape to the National Gallery today, a special trip to see "Beat Memories," an exhibition of photography by Allen Ginsberg. Beat poetry was the first poetry movement I ever identified with -- my first creative writing teacher, a slightly crazy-eyed fiction and poetry writer who included his actual detention slips in his coming-of-age novel, turned me on to the Beats -- and seeing Ginsberg's photographs of Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Gary Snyder, Ferlinghetti and their hangers-on was like getting a voyeur's view into the banality of their lives. Here is the apartment Ginsberg kept in San Francisco, here is Burroughs on the roof of their building in New York, here is the view from the kitchen window Ginsberg sat and stared from for years, in winter, spring and summer.
