Yellow Skirt Freak Show Update!! and more...

I was thinking the other day that some women would probably like to build a wall around me so they don't have to deal with my style. Heh.

I say this because I recently heard a few 50+ women disparage non-conformist style, which I can usually laugh off - and a little friendly back-and-forth can be a catalyst for growth - but this time they also threw in some armchair psychologizing, saying women who dress in "advanced style" are: desperate, trying too hard, insecure, loud, hurting inside, not serious, and (my personal favourite) not intelligent or smart.

Girls running in the wind with skirts hoisted, ready to fly. Acrylic on canvas paper. I painted it a couple of years ago.

Well, actually, they said "the messages the clothes are conveying are...blah blah blah." Fine line, folks, fine line. Apparently, they don't have style rules, but if you don't dress to their narrow specifications of joy and confidence, you need help. Hahaha! Too bad it's so much fun breaking those non-existent rules! I'm hoping they were just carried away. You know that never happens to me. Never! Hahaha.

Imagine if everything looked like this, except sometimes the lines are squiggy instead of straight.

So imagine how happy I was to see the Freakish Yellow Skirt fly again. Hoist them yellow sails!!! Arrrrg. And on whom?

  Sacramento! Hurrah!   

  Mis Papelicos - No. 27  

Marching band. Ticker-tape parade.

She's the doyenne of Free Styling, 

life-embracing, joy-jumping, 

sproingy wonder. 

See her here. And in the gallery here.

Thank you, Sacramento, for joining this ride!

After the style lambasting incident, which took me by surprise, I was feeling very down about blogging in general and, to my shame, about the Freakish Yellow Skirt, no joke - I thought my faux fur gave me thicker skin than that - but as I was updating the Freakish Gallery of

 27 WOMEN!!! 

from all over the world 

that bitter taste in my mouth turned minty fresh, the air suddenly smelled like spring flowers with a whiff of pine trees, bluebirds started nesting in my hair, a fuzzy dice pendant appeared around my neck, and a baby deer tried to sit on my lap. It was magical, wonderful pastoral mayhem.

OOM means, "This crab hand position sucks!"

In the nick of time the Freakish Yellow Skirt and Sacramento leapt in and saved the day!

So let me pass on this wisdom: when someone interprets your joyful style as a seething mass of desperation and unhappiness, it's time to start handing out those rose-tinted glasses from the dollar store. Emergency!! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and there's some really weird stuff going on out there.

It's called the Travelling Yellow Skirt Freak Show because joy wins over freak labels every time - I hope. As the original skirt post from 2012 says, the skirt represents "positivity and solidarity" among everyone who dresses with happiness, whatever your definition. We celebrate style in all its forms. Right? RIGHT?!

Let's be clear: no walls. 

The skirt will soon be winging its way to Beate in Germany. Her awesome blog is HERE. She's a fierce art woman.

And more news...
I was on a photo shoot today, a real one with a photographer and a stylist, a prelude to a professional gig coming up next month. Bwahaha! I don't like all the baggage that comes with the word model so I shall say I was a clothing host for some garments designed and made by uber-talented Claire Cormeau, who saw my blog and asked if I would showcase her designs. You can find her HERE.

The turtleneck has merino wool and the asymmetrical tailored jacket felt like an expensive dream. Claire even designed the bracelet, which her partner manufactured with 3D printing. Amazing. The pants/shoes belong to the clothing host. The shoot was only for the waist up; these are fun out-takes.

I should have slathered on some hand cream last night. Auch - hopefully, everyone is looking at the bracelet.

That's all. I hope you have a great week everyone. I'm linking up to:
Patti: Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and;
Catherine: #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb.
Thank you, Patti and Catherine, for these style refuges just when I need them most.

And I'll link up to Anne at SpyGirl for 52 Pick-me-up: Sky Blue/Expansion/Connection. Just my earrings are sky blue. That counts, right?

You faltered

Was it my gold sequins? Electric pink lipstick? Maybe my high-heel biker boots. Whatever it was, it caught your eye - and your imagination - and you faltered. I saw it. You were thinking - and you may have even told me - that you wish you could wear what I'm wearing but you couldn't possibly "pull it off."

Dear, oh dear.

"Get away with it" and "pull it off" - that's what bank robbers and hard-core criminals say when they've pulled a job and eluded the coppers. But now it usually refers to the daring of wearing a splodge of aubergine with - gasp! - orange. Have our standards of risk-taking sunk to such lows?

How did we get from bank-robbing to clashing colours as criminal behaviour? What does this say about our standards? What's next? Your partner brings home some laundry detergent and you offer a night of wild sexual favours in return? (Okay ---, I know this is de rigeur for you, but for everyone else, you know what I'm saying?)

One day I bumped into a friend while I was shopping and we ended up talking about style, as usual. He dresses for New York; I dress for wherever I happened to land that day, so we have a lot in common. I was whining about the lack of magazines for deviant women over 50, especially in Canada, and how our preeminent magazine for that demographic, targeted to "boomers with zip," was definitely NOT FOR ME.



To give you an example, it has a SPIRIT section which features: happiness, faith, obituaries, nostalgia/humour. There is excessive coverage of British royals and Hollywood from news feeds and an emphasis on getting Canadian seniors to sign up for CARP, the Canadian Association of Retired Persons. So now we're simply known as fish, bottom-feeders at that. That's something to carp about (bwahaha, couldn't help myself). [Edit: The mag has been slightly revamped and the obits are gone. Genius move!]

Wearing "Dressed to Piss You Off" T-shirt made for me by Suzanne Carillo, maxi denim coat she scouted for me at Talize thrift store, psychedelic tights, low heel ankle boots, and jewels, JEWELS! 

He suggested that I write up a pitch for the kind of magazine I'd like to see, and although I knew our banter was more sport than business, I decided to do the exercise anyway. Here's what I came up with:

Anna Wintour on crack in paint-splattered vintage bell bottoms and a frayed sequin halter top, shrieking, "Stop telling me what to do!" An anti-style-bullying magazine for boomer/Gen X women gone wild, and a sexy, fun flirtation with the wild side for armchair fashionistas. Ba-bye retirement planning, hello hellcats.

I'm going to hook this up with:

Anne at SpyGirl, 52 Pick-me-up: Aqua, Vanity, Transformation

Patti at Not Dead Yet Style, Visible Monday

Cathering at Not Dressed as Lamb, #iwillwearwhatilike. 

I haven't been making the rounds as I hoped - too much work!! But I glance through. You guys are schtellar. You're all schtars, I tell you! It's the colour on the inside that counts!

Slob and snob?

No wonder male celebrities love to wear onesies: the diaper crotch design creates all kinds of shadowy illusions down there. And then there's the protruding zipper tab, which Suzanne has stated freaks her out. It's only because she's jealous she doesn't have illusions emanating from her crotchal area and a pullable tab. Hahaha. Just when you think you've escaped camel toe, this happens. Too loose, too tight, too loose, too tight. The game is rigged!

The headband with the sticking-up-hair brings to mind Scott Baio: wax on, wax off. Remember that from the movie The Karate Kid? In the era of the "Brazilian," it has a whole new meaning not suitable for PG audiences. [Edit: as Sheila points out, that was Ralph Macchio, not Scott Baio. Both cute, but I never had a "thing" for them.]

Places to see, people to go. "Must get chips. Must get chips." Again, note my superior photography skills with the precision focus on my right foot. I have no one but myself to blame for such excellence. The camera was turned to Normal, which tends to average everything out, just like in real life - one big frickin' blur with random pinpricks of interest.  

Big truck coming. Kidding. It's all just part of the show for employees skulking around the alley on their smoke breaks. This photo is a focal fluke. Did you note the cool socks?

Conversation between two of my blog viewers:

Roweena: Mabel, what is she doing now? What's all that filth?
Mabel: Well, land sakes, how should I know? Running around in her thermal underwear in broad daylight? I can't fathom it. I just can't fathom it.
Roweena: Well, not just that - she might sprain something with her arms up like that.
Mabel: Maybe the police told her to freeze!
Roweena: You may be right. You may be right. Running around in her long johns.
Mabel: Oh, Rowena, look, look! Aren't those your shoes? The ones you threw out 40 years ago before you started wearing platforms?
Roweena: Whaaa...? I do think they are. How did she...?
Mabel: Well, they're on their way to the slammer now. Good thing you threw them out. More tea? With a little something extra? Looks like you could use a little fortification.
Roweena: Oh my, yes. I knew those shoes would come to no good.

I still have a hard time believing that onesies are so popular in some places. This is the only one I've ever seen in Vancouver. 

This outfit scared people. And well it should! At least until I opened my mouth or laughed. My jeggings never looked so haughty before. I love this look, as much as I love my jeans and T-shirt looks as once-in-a-while style. Made-in-Italy fringed vintage velvet wrap by Byblos, $5 from My Sister's Closet, well, only $2.50 really because it came with a luxurious velvet maxi skirt as well.

Vintage black satin gloves. Big earrings from My Sister's Closet. Hat, yes the hat styled another way, from Used House of Vintage, velvet opera coat half price from Value Village, old Chanel sunglasses, a gift in exchange for work done.

That's all. I'm raising my head like a little prairie dog, having a look around now that I have a little breathing space. Are you still there? Helloooo!!

AND...

Good job on the blab live online chat hosted by Sylvia of 40+Style, with special guests Patti, Not Dead Yet Style, and Susan, une femme d'un certain âge. That was great! Sylvia's new course on accessories starts Feb 15. You can get more info HERE, but tons of women have already signed up. If you need a little style oomph, Sylvia will provide!! She doesn't pay me to say this - I just think she knows her stuff.

I'll link this up to the usual suspects. There's nothing too new in this disjointed post. I'll make up for it later. I bought a gown today. Hahaha!! Exactly what I needed.

Patti: Visible Monday on her blog Not Dead Yet Style
Catherine: #iwillwearwhatilike on her blog Not Dressed as Lamb

Hickory dickory schlock and the crooked hat

THE CROOKED HAT

This is for Judith's Hat Attack 31 linkup at Style Crone, my crooked hat. 

There was a cooked hat perched on a crooked head, 

It stopped the crooked rain with its lime and crooked reds, 

It shielded crooked eyes from crooked evil sights  

And when it got back home it cried, "Take me to New York!"

HICKORY DICKORY SCHLOCK

Hickory Dictory Schlock

Your mouse hued up her frock

The image froze

And wrecked my pose

Hickory Dickory Schlock

I'd been fermenting his mouseover idea for at least 24 hours, and although this resultant draft is not yet 100 proof, it's palatable with drunken overtones of Ghost/Muppet/Meanie and bits of pickle - anything to take the edge off and quench my self-defecating sense of humour. Moving right along...

Note: If you roll your mouse - or whatever else you use - across the above photo, the image should change, hence "mouseover," also known as "rollover." If it doesn't work, clearly you need to upgrade to an older device or drink more of my special brew.

I dressed to match my hair - too lazy to push the hair dryer ON switch. And too lazy to change for my morning walk - this is what I often wear at home.

After I saw my photos, I quickly realized I look exactly like Turnip Head, so I put her in there too. She is also a happy nursery-rhymie yet cynical creature.

I'm wearing a ghastly oversized men's shirt, thrifted, purchased when I was delusional thinking I would upcycle it. Pfff. It's so stiff it makes a crinkling sound. Soft cotton patchwork drawstring pants, oversized long-sleeve orange T-shirt, and reading glasses over my regular glasses with clip-on shades. Holy hot harridan!

And, just when you thought you'd made it to the end of the post, no!! Another few seconds of creepy vexation.

THE BIG FINISH

I made this tiny video message at the end of December. I wasn't going to show you, but why not? I suppose this is to celebrate Chinese New Year, February 8, heh. She is scary cool.

I've found a new favourite British sitcom on Netflix, Black Books, which ran from 2000 to 2004. I use it to de/retox at the end of my work-filled days and get trippy dreams. Watch it! Well, if you want to.

I'm of course linking to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and
Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb, and
Anne at 52 Pick-me-up: Ink Blue at SpyGirl.
Including Judith's Hat Attack, there nothing like hitting FOUR big parties on Monday morning to kick off the week. I hope I see you there. I'll be the one staggering into the bushes.