Special going-out pyjamas and vintage hat

Canada Day needed me downtown ASAP so I sprang into action.

Red! Red! I must have red, the colours of our flag. Swoosh swoosh swoosh - I ploughed my way through the closet. Nuthin'. So I went to the other closet. Swoosh swoosh swoosh. Zilch. So I went to another closet - no hangers in this one.

And aaaa (sound of angels), there it was. My soft, quality-cotton, red-and-white "pyjama" set, well, it was sold as a pyjama set even though each piece is by a different label. I think it could easily be leisure wear or, yes, Canada-Day wear.

I carefully applied red and silver glitter eyeshadow under my brows, on account of the flag issue, and towered up my hair. Then, when I was about to put on my Converse sneakers I remembered I should bring a scarf to protect my neck from the sun.

Back to the closet. Rummage rummage. And RRRrrrr! (sound of hard brakes) What's this?! My vintage hat, my long-lost vintage hat.

At the Orient Express station. "Porter, oh porter, can you please take my bags? But leave the phone. I need to call my manicurist and Jean-Jacques, captain of my gorgeous yacht." 

Tower hair be damned. You're goin' down! And on went the hat.

And be gone, sneakers! Quickly I strapped on my geta-style sandals and wide black belt, then the crown, this majestic chapeau. Thankfully, there were not high winds today - this hat's perch is rather precarious. There is a small elastic to help with hold though.

And the finishing touch was this wonderful teacup carrier I made a few years ago from a wooden matryoshka. O created custom brass hardware to twist the top securely onto the bottom, and for the inside I sewed a satiny red pouch to cushion my family heirloom teacup. Sometimes I use this carrier as a handbag.

A generous smudge of sunscreen on my nose, vintage sunglasses, camera. Done!

Hmm, shall I buy the paisley Dior gown or the black vinyl Chanel hot pants? Everything is so complicated. "Please, garçon, can you bring me another Russian mule?" 

Frankly, I had more fun getting ready to go out than actually going out. It was so crowded and hot at the main area of festivities that I was forced to shuffle. Shuffle?!! In a divine hat?! And my wondrous pyjama set? Don't be preposterous! 

COMMERCIAL BREAK 

just like real entertainment. 

I made a 10 sec video on how I do my tower hair. Skip it if you've seen it on Instagram. It's the same one. This was not sponsored, pffft. 

Back to regular programming - now that you're all stocked up on chips...

For daily wear I'll probably give the red eyeshadow a pass; it was simply a noble gesture. On any other day it would look like I haven't slept in a year or I've been in a barroom brawl with Suzanne fighting over her latest vintage finds. (Of course she wins but I grab some loot while she fist-bumps her fans, see HERE.)

One good thing was that Vancouver Convention Centre was open to the public. I could live in that room, except for the vacuuming and changing light bulbs problem. This is the biggest ballroom in the place with stunning views across Burrard Inlet to North Vancouver.

And below, a little more drama. Because it's fun.

Canada is 150 years old now as a country. That's not very old. And the US has its big Independence Day coming up on July 4, so the city is still hoppin' with revellers. Me? I'm just workin' and readin' (fiction, The Woman on the Orient Express, great cover) and sketchin' - and planning, always planning. And I met up with Vancouver Barbara this week too. See her on IG.

That's all. I have other photos but, really, you have been so patient with my overloaded posts lately I thought you deserve a break. I sometimes post outfit photos on my Instagram, ones that I can't fit into a blog post. If you're interested you can have a peek HERE.

I'll link up to Patti and Catherine again, at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb. AND I'm happy to be joining Judith at Style Crone for her Hat Attack #48. FINALLY, I'm wearing a hat. Cheers!

This post has been brought to you by the mischievous, often missing, letter G at the end of "ing."

Thanks for stoppin' by! Where have your clothes taken you recently?

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Edit: I almost totally forgot. I am in Silver Magazine, based in the U.K., an article called "The 50plus fashionistas." They put a huge photo of me with the headline. Heh. I look so serious but only because I am an extremely serious person. See it HERE.

That's all. I swear. I tried to keep this post short but look what I've done. I just keep dribbling.

Three coats for the weather-challenged

Vancouver's winter so far has been nerve-wracking: warm, cold, cool, snow, SNOW?, cold, SNOW?!! How can I keep up? These three coats show how I've been dealing with the weather.

COAT 1: White fluffy vintage parka

Weather shock rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

Oh yes, frolicking at the beach, laughing and laughing, and lounging/falling-off a bug-infested log with bits of who-knows-what surrounding me. I think it's moving! Oh, it's so much fun! And it started to rain. There's a hood on this coat you can't see at this angle.

Regarding the next photo, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a "casual" patio shot at a café using a tripod and a remote control? But do I complain? Heck, no. Never! For you, taking this photo was an absolute bungle of joy. 

Japanese music legend Motoharu Sano gave O and I this zine, which was produced for his Fruits concert tour of 1996. You know what's weird? Some people weren't even born yet in 1996. Heh.

COAT 2: Neon orange men's parka
Weather shock rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5
This coat is the size of a continent, and waterproof. This first shot I call "Tangerine Wraith in the Shadows - Waiting." Are you scared?  

And warmth is always assured because I can wear my entire wardrobe under this coat with no effect on the silhouette whatsoever. Handy.

The next photo I call "The Orange." Perhaps, if you're feeling poetic, "Harvest Moon" would be more suitable. Just please, not "Mutant Cheese Ball."

This last photo is entitled "Parisienne, Cone de Traffic," not to be confused with the Cone of Silence on the show Get Smart.* Of the three looks, this last one affords me the most mobility. *Late '60s U.S. TV comedy series. The Cone of Silence muffled (amplified) top secret discussions, video clip HERE, images HERE. Watch it! Watch it! Hahaha! You'd like it, Greetje. 

The under-jacket of heavyweight sweatshirt fabric is by B.C. label Dru's Design. I bought it retail years ago (not a sponsored link). I also have on my cycling pants, an oversized Eileen Fisher top, and my beret.

COAT 3: Sandra's faux fur beast
Weather shock rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5
Leaning against a wall is so passé. Should we not all pose like this now? At the mall? At the dentist's office? At the market? So casual. So what-the-hey. So bring-me-a-drink. So moving right along... 

Below is the Before-I-Went-Out shot of this coat, accessorized with a hat stuffed with a scarf, the ends hanging down, and a wrappy rope thing to keep the beast's mouth shut. It was FRIGGING COLD!! 

And then the After shot, when I returned home. During my walk I got warm, warmer, warmer. FRIGGING WARM!! The outdoor temperature stayed the same; I didn't. I forgot what a workout it is simply to wear this blue tonnage. 

The key is to manage one's attire with carefree aplomb in any unexpected situation, as I demonstrate below having tucked the ruination of accessories into my bag. The coolness factor of sunglasses also ensures a smooth transition in any fashion U-turn.

THE BIG FINISH
Ta-dah!! Back to the fluffy coat on mud, a slippery slope of slimy leaves and dog poop - it's all part of the fun of blogging and perhaps even life itself. I made little condom-like covers from rubber gloves for the feet of my tripod before I went out. I'm very glad I did. I'd do that for my own feet but...

That's all for this time. Make sure you check out Natalia's styling (In The Writer's Closet) of the Freakish Yellow Skirt, stylist 34!, which I wrote about in my previous post, here. FYS has now flapped off to Texas. Thanks, Natalia!

Stay warm. Or cool, as the case may be.

I'll link something here with Patti's Visible Monday@Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike@Not Dressed as Lamb. And I'll link to Judith's Hat Attack 43@Style Crone - finally I'm wearing a hat!

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And a HUUUGE thank you to POPSUGAR for including me as one of the "10 Fashion Bloggers Over 50 Who Completely Dominate the Style Game." See? When I say, Wear your clothes falling off or humongous menswear, am I right or am I right? Hahaha! What a surprise and honour. THANK YOU. 

Hey, where's my wife bonus?!

When everything is for sale, so much depends on making a good pitch.

But a good pitch alone isn't enough. You need to have a clearly defined target audience, aka friends. In a bid for self-improvement, I shall reprogram my internal algorithm which will convey my value more arithmetically not only to others but also myself, thereby enhancing my brand appeal and user interface. Hurrah! Whaaa...?

The mural backdrop is a snapshot of my existing algorithm. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

My algorithm is fecked. That's it in the background. Of course my user interface is whacked. My DIY T-shirt.

Even kids are on board with this stuff, "Hey, mum, I expanded my target audience at school today." "Well done, honey. I think you just added points to your Daughter Bonus for that." Twinkle-eyed winks.

It's essential that you sell yourself in all aspects of your life; making deals should be second nature. Demand payment up front and never undersell yourself. Heh.

For example, I'm still waiting for my Wife Bonus from O, you know, for managing an efficient and attractive home. I am a strict and elaborately-dressed taskmaster when it comes to cleaning staff and rearing our children stellarly. Okay, so the kids are little silverfish (not a metaphor). I kill them regularly, well, no, I can't bear it - they are so cute - but I yell for O and he takes care of them.

I'm working hard for my wife bonus! The same frilly blouse as the previous post but with a colourful jacket made in Korea. You can see the fabric texture on the arms. Swoony. 

I have been known to body double the cleaning staff. That should get me points! Not only that, I shall demand triple Wife Bonus points for doing dangerous stunt work - it ain't easy hanging over the side of a tub juggling cleaning products and a sponge.* I was thinking I'd buy a sailboat.
(*Don't be fooled, it's all part of my pitch - I don't think I've ever done that!)

I kind of missed out on the Push Ring for pumping out a real kid. But hot-diggity-dog, it may not be too late! I've just found out that a grandmother somewhere, perhaps in an asylum, gave birth to triplets. Ooh, if I have quintuplets that means five rings, right? Tiffany, here I come! (O has just picked up the phone. I think he's calling the asylum, perhaps for himself.)

My lovely gothy/rock jacket with mini-ruffled, neon orange, high-collar blouse and flocked Anthropologie pants. New (old) lace-up ankle boots. I wear outfits like this to clean the oven, which is full of electronic goods. 

Holy cow, adding up the Wife Bonuses, the Push Rings, and the profits from my new algorithm and sales strategy, I'll be living on easy street! That's what happens when you put your best foot forward or, in this spectacular example of marketing genius, two best feet forward at the same time. Yes, I'll be the one hopping down easy street like a bunny on crack, wearing a tiara and pushing a quintuplet stroller on my way to the asylum to visit O.

Lacy dress with black slip. I almost donated it. What was I thinking?

I'm linking up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb. I'm sure I'll see you there.

Of course, I am definitely NOT for sale. My only pitches are in dodgeball, and they are really quite pathetic. My easy street is on the floor stuffing my face with sweet and salty popcorn or Cheesies. But I am definitely open to Mel bonuses to celebrate my mere existence. Heh. (Case in point: gothy jacket self-gift)

I made that T-shirt a while ago, "I am my own brand." I'm ready to revise my statement: "I am NOT a brand. Kiss my ass." Look for it in a future post. Okay, I won't put the second sentence; that was just a general cry, but not to you, my friends, my valued target audience. Mwah!!

OH, BREAKING NEWS EDIT:
Claire Cormeau was just featured in a George Straight newspaper article, hurrah! She's the uber talented clothing designer of the line Nuage, which I wrote about in my model-ish post here. The article includes my favourite photo. Heh. It's all HERE.

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Glossary

Dodgeball
A team sport where players throw a ball with the intent of hitting players on an opposite team thereby eliminating them from the game. I was about eight years old the last time I played. Heh.

Hot-diggity-dog
An expression of delight or excitement. 

Push Present
A push present is a gift, usually jewellery, given to a woman by her partner after "pushing" out a baby (such a sentimental term). This is a true phenomenon - the jewellery and the pushing. If I had a baby, I'd want a push penthouse, a push billion dollars, a push nanny, a push personal assistant... In fact, I said shove it to the whole thing many decades ago. Shouldn't I get a Shove-It Ring?

Wife Bonus
The term wife bonus was first revealed in a non-fiction book called The Primates of Park Avenue, as the money paid to a Manhattan wife by her banker husband for a wifey job well done. The book was later recalled and marketed as fiction. A hideous concept! O is not the boss of me nor I of him - usually. There is no Daughter Bonus - I made that up.


AND (jeez, she just won't shut up) -

I LOOOVE Mexico! I was featured in Elle magazine's online Mexico edition as one of the 40+ Bloggers You Should Know, along with Accidental Icon, une femme d'un certain âge, Style Crone, and Not Dressed as Lamb. And the translation wasn't mangled at all! Bwahaha! I was shocked to be included. And of course very happy.

Thank you, ELLE! Well, and thank you to everyone who visits me up here in the colonies. Mwah!

Okay, now I'll shut up. Heh. Have a great week you's guys.

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.

Friends wigging out, and Hat Attack

Hat Attack! 

This is my contribution to Judith's excellent Hat Attack #26 on Style Crone. I've worn this straw hat before for Hat Attack but not with these zingy clothes. Blam! A blast of sunshine!! The sunglasses and pants are new to me and the belt has been in regular rotation lately. 

AND - 

At the 40+ blogger meetup in Vancouver in July, Shawna of The Director of Awesome invited the last women standing - Sheila of Ephemera, Sylvia of 40+ Style, and me - to her room for a little pyjama party after the jazz bar. We were determined to stretch out the merriment for at least one more hour. 

Of course I brought my satchel of wigs. As we know, wigs are to a blogger photo shoot what monkey bars are to a playground. Here are a few of the shots I took - I messed with them slightly to enhance a particular mood. Aren't these women stunning?! 

Above, Shawna, quintessential woman of the '60s. I love this long-legged sophisticate look. In her hand is a blue wig (also on Sylvia later), but in black and white you might think it's Fifi (or a tribble). She's wearing a faux fur stole, also from my bag, and those are the ties hanging off the bed.

Sheila is the best sex kitten! She is a fearless model and I had to be quick to keep up. She looked spectacular in every wig and every shot.

"The Supermodel." Sylvia put on "Fifi" and then wrapped the fur stole around it. I never would have thought of it. She was a natural in front of the camera but I'm not showing you all of the photos I took, except to say we laughed a lot.

Below are Sheila's pink bossy pants - she calls them that. I love her confidence but I don't think she's bossy - that would be me with my camera. 

If you hang around me with my wigs and camera, you're bound to end up in compromising situations. Of course, I obtained permission from everyone here to post these photos. And thank you, Shawna, for being such a mod, gracious hostess. 

I feel like a cat who nonchalantly drops dead birds and other little animals at my human's doorstep when I post unexpected photos and videos. You are summoned by my meowing, poke at my offering to see if it's still alive, and think, oh, she's been at it again, as you watch me saunter away. 

Which brings me to this.
Sheila sent me three pairs of shoes during her closet overhaul: Fluevog (correction: Gold Button, but I love them like Vogs) booties, heeled granny shoes, and sandals from the Mountains of Italy! Her gift inspired this 30sec video.

I had some cool footage from an outing on an elevated train so I wanted to play with green screen. The sound is poor but it's betta' than nuttin' ya sorry mutts. Heh. Thank you, Sheila!!

Have a great weekend, everyone, as if you need me to tell you. It's a long one here with Labour Day on Monday. I'm so jealous of those dames having a meetup with Sylvia in New York. Ya wise guys!

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Edit: I just found out that Catherine of Not Dressed as Lamb has a new Link-up thingy under the theme "I Will Wear What I Like" in response to hideous style rules for women over 30. Thirty? Bwahahaha!! For me dressing is as much a political act as a statement of aesthetic preference, so I shall wear exactly what I please.

"Use it or lose it"

We must cherish our right to freedom of expression 

and not be cowed by cows

Catherine's last round was only for Instagrammers but she has broadened it to include blog posts as well, so I'm goin'! - at least this time because I happen to meet this week's theme: Colour. 

Maybe I'll see you there. 

Let your clothes choose your profession, and Hat Attack

I start out well. Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la. Lovely clean home. Lovely clean mind. Decluttering! Hurrah!

Then I degenerate into this. I'll spare you the inner dialogue; it would all be punctuation marks anyway.

I could have used a massive dose of the Dalai Lama at Glastonbury. Or maybe just Glastonbury. Or maybe just a few Glastonbury beverages - not the milk.

As it was, I made do with this: the "Coffee and a Muffin" special. The coffee was nutty. No refunds were requested. No baristas were harmed. It was a face muffin, a muffin as big as my face, almost as good as face doughnuts.

All this cleaning (which also includes more space-bagging), all this caffeine, all this muffiny goodness, it opens my mind to the universe.

So I wore this vintage barkcloth maxi the other day. You may have seen it before - but not with my lovely lava pendant paired with that other one, looking very, dare I say, fly? And bracelets. I don't wear them often because my wrists are small and the bangles clamp my hands when they dangle down. 

So here we have a Hawaiian-made dress with lava jewels and hiking boots (with fringe and platforms, an improvement on the standard fare). Do I sense a pattern here? Why, of course - I should be a vulcanologist! It's so clear now. Open your mind. Let your clothes guide you!! 

Pffft. Although I wouldn't mind investigating a black-sand beach with a lovely Mai Tai.

The sun has been wickedly strong these days and I scurry about in the shadows, and hide, very Clouseau-like, in the shade of light standards at intersections. The loud clop, clop, clop of my wooden soles and the billowing neon-yellow robe I sometimes wear instead of sunscreen, which I detest, of course enhance my sleuth appeal. Wait, now just wait a second - it's coming into focus. I should be a bumbling detective! 

Okay, I'd be good at bumbling but not detecting. And keeping up a fake accent would be tiring.

And below is what I wore today, a scarf instead of a hat for Judith's Hat Attack 24 at her blog Style Crone, where she's wearing a beauty designed by Carol Markel. My scarf has cute little drawings of dogs all over it. With the proper attention my hair stands up like little stalks growing from a head planter. In terms of cosmic profession messages, I was getting mixed signals. Rock star or...

Saint. (The halo around my head might be mistaken for a decorative plate on the wall.) 

I would suck at sainthood. Nunh. That's a pure silk maxi dress with the same jewels as my first outfit and then some. I boosted the saturation to make it more saintly. 

Explanation for this post: 

It's been so hot it's hard to type, it's hard to move, it's hard to keep a thought in my head unless it's to do with eating, drinking, taking little naps, and colouring. 

What career are your clothes telling you you should be these days? 

To my fellow Canadians, Happy Canada Day. We are 148 years old, although our flag recently just turned 50, younger than me. I'M OLDER THAN OUR National FLAG?!!! Friggin' FRIG!!

Fake life imitates art in a fake life, and Hat Attack! Second try...

Oops, I deleted my whole post by mistake. So... 

NOW I'M REDOING IT!!! THAT'S MY DISRUPTION!!!!

Wearing thrifted mustard muppet coat, thrifted hard-worn tie-dyed cotton top, thrifted stretch tartan skinny jeans, black glitter platform shoes, thrifted silk scarf. Kitty is wearing whatever he likes. I don't remember what caused the disruption (yeah, because I have a new one) - probably a screaming child - but I do remember tearing down the highway in Kitty's red Bugatti before we hightailed it back to Carnegie Hall for his concert. Good times, friends.

Hello harlots - Today I unveil the newest trend which I, moi, have created in my genius-infected brain. Since my fired incompetent assistant Enid is locked in VOGOFF's closet, she pathetically failed to escape and restock my hair products. What choice did I have but to hang upside-down for this photo to achieve hair volume? The Boys are on their way over with the inversion harness on wheels, a hoist, and a truck to take me shopping. I call this "Eco Hair" - volume without the mess. When I think of all nature's precious and usually cute creatures I am saving by hanging upside-down and not using nasty, vile hair products I shudder and a tear escapes my eye and rolls into my eyebrow. My processional route is sterilized in advance but you unfortunates can use Eco Hair to sweep your floors and those little pennies that get stuck in your tangles may help you with the groceries. Poor dears. Ba-bye! Miz Bagg, Your Bagness.

I thought it would be fun to imitate Anne's awesome sketch of Miz Bagg that she posted at Spy Girl so I hung upside down off the table because, seriously, I didn't want to put product in my hair. Not comfortable - product or pose! I had to run and fling on a 10-sec timer. My sunglasses, the biggest pair I have, kept falling up over my forehead - not a usual problem. The dress, though, is divine, a thrifted maxi, made in France, wool/mohair blend with sparkly gold-thread serging and an elegant hoodie hanging up by my ear. I am using the hoodie as a poor excuse to join Judith's Hat Attack 21 at Style Crone. Thanks, Judith!

The view from my coffee shop, one of Vancouver's most upscale clothing department stores, Holt Renfrew:
"ARE YOU AN CON: Legendary moments await." I thought, what an interesting campaign, even though they got the "an" wrong, until I realized that the "I" was concealed by the light post. Boring after all.

So my upside-down photo is life imitating my fake life imitating art imitating Anne's fake life in her fake journal. I love the fake journal project Anne does, and how thrilled I was to see that she had incorporated Her Supreme Betchness in her story of Enid. Thank you, Anne. You have revived Miz Bagg! I look forward to more of Enid's adventures. Tee hee.

And - "What? More jeans? Stop! Stop already!" Blame it on the runners. I have been enjoying the fleet-footed freedom of these shoes, the knowledge that I could bolt at the drop of a chocolate - to catch it before it hits the ground. The words alone - sneakers, runners - conjure up dusty playgrounds, monkey bars and squeaks on gym floors.

These are my thrifted black jeans, $5, thrifted black blazer that fits like a glove, $5, thrifted man's shirt, more than $5, scribbled-on thrifted sneakers, colourful Harlequin socks, retail, and of course my magic loupe from O. A neighbour said I looked boyish in this. Coltish is good too. Not to be confused with the old grey mare. Or mutton. Or any other farm animal. Although I am good at bull.

Thanks for all your comments in my last post about IG. Lots to think about. Also, I'm not ready to give up on blogging.

PS If you have published and then accidentally lost a post, search for it online and you will find the cache that you can copy. Whew!

Hat Attack 20

There's nothing like a glam photo shoot to escape reality for just a little while. I am calmed by the process of secretly piling my beauty products around me on the floor of my room, sitting cross-legged as I sort through them, humming, hauling out my floor lights, clipping up the white curtain. O is not allowed. My excuse this time was Judith's Hat Attack 20 at Style Crone. 

I call this hat the acorn hat or Hershey's Kiss hat, vintage now but purchased new yonks ago in Kyoto. I wear it out once in a while but the wool makes my forehead itchy. I could wear a scarf underneath but I am so grabby-last-minute when I go out the door I never remember.

Unfortunately my shoot was cut short by a shower of bugs from my light when it tipped over, an assortment of desiccated baby moths, larvae shells, and a ladybug. I shall have stern words with my housekeeper, perhaps cut her pay or worse (oh yes, please fire me!). I carefully stuck the critters onto clear tape so O could examine them properly under his trinocular for signs of danger bugs (bed bugs, termites, silverfish). There were none. Whew. That calls for a raise (yeah, right, talk, talk, talk...).

So now that I've ruined the glamour vibe of the photos with this bug tale, I'll shut up soon. I wore cycling pants and my number sweater, which I haven't yet wrecked up properly. That's a hardware store heavy silver chain and clear beads I found in our garbage room around my neck. "Oooh, please, stop with all the glamour, Mel! I can't take any more!!" Okay, now I'll shut up. 

Hat Attack! and How to clean your faux fur

Uh-oh, it's the concrete box studio again. That can only mean one thing...

I've washed my hands of the whole "sophisticated-look/get-more-Followers" drive of my previous post. It lasted a day, which in terms of my resolve, is pretty good. Plus, if I stuck to those rules, how would I possibly be able to bring you THIS outfit? So many shaggy bits. (I'm happy to see from the previous comments that many of you are/have been liberally exercising your right to shag!)

Check out those sparklers on my head, courtesy of AMAZING FABULOUS BELLA, The Citizen Rosebud, who sent me this beret waaay back. It's perfect for Hat Attack 19 with Judith and her style mavericks over at Style Crone. Did you see Bella at Sylvia's 40PlusStyle, 40 Most Stylish Midlife Women on Instagram? You must, and everyone else there too, not to mention the lineup of fabulous women featured on Buzzfeed earlier in the week here, 15 Amazing Senior Style Instagrammers; Judith is there too.

Note to self: I am not a cat. Stop grooming the faux fur. Hairballs stain carpet.

And I had a vow to swear off thrifting - it lasted two days. I should have included fine print: no walking past thrift stores. When I saw this coat through the window on a rack in the darkest corner (not kidding), what could I do? Let it go home with a smug young fashionista who'd buy it as a great joke coat for a party? Or go home with me, a smug Melstrom wise in the knowledge that daily life is a party, albeit hosted by David Lynch.

The knit maxi skirt with pearl button embellishment I got from the 5-buck rack at a thrift shop a couple weeks ago. That's an old thrifted putrid lime-green blouse and my thrifted silk velvet scarf. I like the variety of textures/patterns, but next time I'll wear something short or fitted with the coat, maybe my Moschino hotpants with my '60s paisley tights. 

If you're a new Follower, thank you for signing up. Boot camp is just beginning, and shoe camp, and high camp... Wait, wait, come baaaaack! 

About cleaning faux fur: My shaggy green faux fur coat, seen well here, needed a full-on tongue bath(!) but not being up to the challenge and refusing to have it dry cleaned, as it instructs, I ran it on a cold gentle cycle in the wash, spun dry (I have a separate special spinner for that), then tumbled dry. The coat came out springtime fresh. I couldn't imagine walking around with all those dry cleaning chemicals seething in the fibres. This method worked for me but if you're unsure, dry cleaning (or tongue bath, if you don't mind hairballs) would still be your safest option.

An elderly man came up to me in the coffee shop while I was wearing this coat. He asked, "How many muskrats did it take to make that?" I calmly replied, "A dozen. And they were not muskrats, they were muppets." I smiled, winked, and left him laughing. What would you have done?