Classic velvet blazer for total drama

My hair may soon need scaffolding; it's starting to collapse under its own weight. But I like the big curl off the forehead, which reminds me of Brit actors as brooding uniformed school boys or gentlemen in period dramas, or poets, framed always by huge windows or great gnarled trees in emerald forests of romance and intrigue.

I'm wearing my fave velvet blazer by Triple Five Soul, featuring raw edges, satin tuxedo striping down the arms, and surgeon's cuffs, which means the cuffs have functioning buttons so you can turn them up for, uh, surgery, so you don't gore up your sleeves. Excellent!

This means I can fearlessly deep-dive into barbeque chips and bar snackies, and not worry about reckless dragging through ketchup and coffee.

I tied my vintage tie in a Full Windsor knot (instructions here if needed), which is fatter than a regular knot, and made the front stubby and the tail long enough to hang below my buttoned blazer. And that's a men's wrinkled white shirt.

The men's belt is thrifted, the kind of soft leather hard to find in retail stores these days. The brand is Josef, made in Canada, mint condition. The silver medallion buckle is what caught my eye (closer view here). 

TIP: Always check out the men's belt section in thrift shops. Not usually as elaborate as women's belts, men's belts can easily be resized with a leather punch.

And my button-fly, low-rider jeans by Bardot of Australia, purchased a few years ago at a sample sale. The legs are super skinny. 

Below, detail of the subtle asymmetrical embroidery on the back of the jacket. 

I know I said that my hair reminded me of a Brit actor/poet, but I also got a strong rockstar vibe with this outfit. The heeled ankle boots added a sense of being in control, literally "on top of it." And I layered my Poe almost-black lipstick over my standard red.

On my Instagram I also said that this outfit makes me feel like a low-rider car with flames painted on it. At each red traffic light I would start hopping, loudly and awkwardly, startling all the pedestrians.

So there you have it: school boy/gentleman/poet, rock star, low rider. Which vibe do you see here? Or something completely different perhaps? I like that there is no one feeling but a whole playhouse of characters.

And just so you know I haven't gone all dark in my clothing, I wore this outfit below, with slicked back hair, which I have previously referred to as "tidy Kim Novak hair" but not for this outfit. And I piled on the jewels.

I like wearing many necklaces at a time, but dislike: 1) the bother of fiddly clasps, and 2) the jangling sound they make. 

To fix the first problem I got two pieces of blue ribbon and tied on the smaller necklaces, threading one ribbon through the jump rings and the other ribbon through the clasps, transforming the whole mess into a single longer necklace easily thrown over my head. I tie it at the back so I can adjust the overall length.

To address the second jangling problem, clearly I have to become a Russian folk dancer, like HERE. 

Finally, all five my interview episodes with Margaret Manning of Sixty and Me are open. I wrote about it in the previous post but when I published only one was up. Today, because my main outfit features black and white, I thought I'd highlight this one. 

Fashion Over 50: Exploring the Power of Simple Black, White and Grey

Mel Kobayashi 

Plus, I want to get the most mileage from the clothing explosion that happened while setting up my demo pieces. O was very stoic about the whole thing. In the end, I only had time to use about 20% of what I had out. And I forgot to say my most important points - I got carried away. What a surprise! Hahaha.

The links to the other episodes are here:

1. I Love Floral Tights! Why Fashion After 60 is About Wearing What Makes You Happy
2. Forget What Other People Think and Express Your Eccentricities
3. The Art of Walking Like a Movie Star
4. Vintage Clothing is Back for Women Over 50: Embrace the Past and Create Amazing Style

And I can't end this post without saying I'm linking up with Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style - I have been worrying about her family in Florida all week. And I'm linking up with Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb.

That's it for now. I hope you are all safe!! - my thought for the week. The autumn chill is coming here and I like it.

White moto jacket two ways, casual AND executive

Ready? Brace yourself! It's two outfits with one jacket. But can I pull it off?! What do you bloody think? It's a frickin' jacket.

The other morning I was compelled by an unseen force (no, I'm sure it was the huge SALE sign that did it) to go into the store across the street and I left with that white moto jacket. After I paid.

Look 1: Moto Jacket Casual Style (subcategory Rocker Lite)

Real rockers and fake real rockers scowl and wear black. Only fake fake rockers smile and wear white jackets. I wish I hadn't rolled up jeans, but note the double-belt action. Oh yeeeeah.

Wearing: Bardot jeans from sample sale, Miu Miu boots thrifted, Gap t-shirt thrifted, magic loupe and two magic pendants from O, two belts both thrifted, mechanical watch from O, white motorcycle jacket from sale

This look is majorly mainstream so I pumped it up with lighthouse hair and mega-'tude - works every time. I was influenced to get my rock-on by two scholarly YouTube videos I watched recently: 

1. "How to look like a Rockstar on stage with a Guitar," taught by a man who doesn't play guitar. Excellent. And then I couldn't stop myself watching - 
2. "Rockstar Fashion: How To Dress Like A Rockstar" by Make Me That Guy. The female-version videos I saw were so wussy. Pitui. (says the woman in the white moto jacket)

Poor Kitty has a pain in his neck. My dance moves can have that effect.

What those video guys say makes sense. My take: is dressing to look like a rockstar any different than, say, dressing to look like a magazine trend or, how do the snobs put it, au courant? Both looks are costumes of a sort.

I can't appreciate the many loops drawn by these questions in my brain until I've fully recovered from my 'tude hangover, but seriously, we all pull the threads we like until the whole logic unravels anyway. You feel good? You wear it. How do the snobs put it? - feckin' eh.

Look 2: Moto Jacket Executive(ish) Style 

As promised, yes, another iteration!! A second look!!! I'm giddy with non-frigging excitement. Actually, I was excited. I can wear this stinkin' outfit to the office, to the supermarket, to the dry cleaners, to police headquarters, but never, ever, ever to a daycare!!!

Wearing: Cirque du Soleil graphic cotton tank gift, pinstripe pencil skirt thrifted, stretch kitten-heel shoes retail, white moto jacket

That's it. That's the piece right there close up. It's so frigging fantastic. 

Fake leather, how appropriate. I thought it would be like wearing a mini sauna or miracle body wrap - bonus! I tucked a fake rocker handkerchief in my bag to mop up the melting poundage just in case. Too real? A bit gross? But it was cool outside. No sweat! 

The stores are maggoty with moto jackets. I thought this trend was done. Wrong. 

__________________________________________

I lost my keys in the abyss of my bag the other day and had to empty the entire contents onto the hood of my car. O said it was like watching one of those cop shows. I was ready to be arrested when one pink rubber glove flopped out. He didn't raise an eyebrow. Heh. 

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!

To IG or not to IG

"DRIP OF THE DAY" 

on tap at my cafe:

"Burundi: a tropical aroma with flavours of cherry, 

red apple, caramel and a syrup finish."

I declined. I am a pure bean woman, as you may recall.

But that didn't stop me from doing this...

And I ate lard today. Not a huge helping, just enough to make me wish I hadn't eaten it. It was baked into a big biscuit which I wasn't hungry for but I ordered and ate anyway. Stupidly.

I have two very different looks for you in this post - one ultra-casual in jeans worn today (my building guy didn't even recognize me this morning) and one jewellery-laden ensemble worn yesterday. Both made me feel swell. The open mouth photo is me - preparing to eat lard, like a fledgling in a nest waiting for its mama to fly back with, um, a mouthful of lard? Moving right along...

I am in training for jewellery-wearing. I'm not sure how many lessons I'll do. This stuff is heavy. It leaves dents in the back of my neck - seriously.  But if I loosen my scarf that might not happen. I wore this 100% silk thrifted maxi tunic/dress yesterday. It says XL but I altered the shoulders to fit. The man robe draped over my arm kept me warm enough. You may remember it from "my man robe" video, here.

I didn't "do" my eyebrows to be asymmetrical; they were that way for real today. And I wore my hair sort of side-parted. ("Today" is Friday and "yesterday" is Thursday in this post.)

Shoes for Sheila's Shoe Shine at Ephemera. Thrifted. Debuted in previous post.

I haven't been blog-crawling much. And I just did a quick review of a few blogs I have commented on and some of my comments are missing despite doing a double-entry. I have the sense that blogging is becoming antiquated, that I should really be Instagramming. Its platform based on quick-shotted pithiness is appealing, as is the idea of being able to Like and run. But I don't want a phone. And contrarily, the reasons that attract me to Instagram are what keep me blogging - IG excels at Show, but I also enjoy the Tell of blogging that lets me express myself more fully (like the lard bird story) and get to know everyone else much better. In the end, I'm going to do what makes me happy. But the pressure, the pressure! No Facebook, no Twitter, no Pinterest, no Tumblr, no Link On Me... I'm a step away from a museum.

Do you remember the movie The Big Chill? The Michael character played by Jeff Goldblum was a journalist for People magazine and he said: "You can't write anything longer than the average person can read during the average crap." We've become so abbreviated in social media that maybe the line should be revised: than the average person can ???...  Any ideas?

Do you do all of the social media things? How do you manage your time? Are you obsessed? (I also fear IG for that reason.) Do you in fact or fiction make money from it? Think it's possible? Use it to promote an outside business? Hope to become an icon, not that you aren't already, darling. I sometimes feel left in the dust - not that my house isn't immaculate, simply immaculate!! Thoughts? (not on my cleaning habits, but the other questions, okay, my cleaning habits too)

I hope you are all well and enjoying your changing season whatever it may be. 

My first LinkUp Party

I just swallowed a bird.

If I speak, little yellow feathers might float out of my mouth. If I were polite, I'd wear a mask. (hiccup)

Split, splat, split splat. the sound. of boots. on wet. sidewalks. Halt! 

Excuse me, sir, which way to the Left Bank? "What? Madame, why you just turn left. But you cannot go to zee Left Bank like zat. Although you are wearing a jolie beret, you must wear all black to go there." Oh. Which way to the Right Bank then? "Oh, non, non, non! You turn right here, but you cannot go there. Are you fou? You must wear black there aussi!" Okay, how about straight ahead? "Oh, grande imbecile, Madame! Why, that is the Seine river. No turning. But there is no shopping or cafes there, only leetle fishes." Fine. 

I turned into the wind, positioned my umbrella just right and flew to London for lunch with Vivienne Westwood instead. Such a jaunty petite outfit. Perfect for zee rain yesterday. Next time I'll wear black. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MY LINKUP PARTY!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Originally I was going to post only photos of Miz Bagg showcasing every conceivable angle of her outfit and her magnificent self - nose holes, ear lobes, elbows, knees, toe hair(!) - and then breathlessly proclaim how Miz Bagg, that biatch, had scandalously hijacked my first LinkUp Party!! Unbelievable! And Shelley of Forest City Fashionista was going to send me a photo of herself as it would appear in the last linkup window, the only blogger to break through Miz Bagg's stronghold before the LinkUp Party closed.

Yes, that would have been a great sight gag, but it felt too easy, too trite for the mood I was in once I started the project, so I ended up with these photos, which include two intentional Bagg characters, but mostly different states of me that reflect how I'm feeling, the weather, what leapt out at me from the closet, something I've made, an experiment, a critique, a letting go through clothes and imagination that makes life bearable.

The dialogue was just filler I typed up to check the layout and was never intended for final use, but then I decided I liked that raw quality after all. (The original was much more raw than what's here, influenced by other projects I'm working on.) I like the juxtaposition of the colourful sense of myself I feel in these images in the context of a catty Fashion Police-type commentary, both somewhat unreal and real at the same time.

I like the top middle photo, the pink electric-head-girl cycling socks that I used to wear cycling, now worn with my granny shoes. And below, what I wore today, Sunday.

Caught in the headlights of Santa's sleigh. The parade was today - I wouldn't have known it if it were not for the really weird vibe on the street and the thousands of people everywhere, and, well, the parade itself. The weather was fine, 11C (52F), so there was a great turnout. Wearing: DIY scribble jacket and DIY embroidered-eye jeans, merino wool turtleneck that I wore to the Hamptons, with underlayering as well.

Have you recently read about the man swallowed by an anaconda for reality TV? Frankly, I don't know what the kerfuffle is all about. As you read in VOGOFF in December 2012, here, Miz Bagg ordered that her assistant be partially swallowed by the Mighty Python to research the magical skin rejuvenating effects of its digestive juices. Of course, she was retracted just in time. No word on the juice. Or that assistant.

How are you, lovelies? Having a good December? Brace, brace, brace, there's more to come. Ho ho ho. Mwah. [Edit: I'm linking up to Anne's SpyGirl: 52 Pick-me-up, Crazy Legs, and Mis Papelicos, Share-in-Style.]

Word Verification...
PS - Pao just asked in the comments, what's up with all the auto-robot thing on comments lately? I've noticed this too. My word verification is definitely OFF, but Blogger has decided to turn it on. I think I encounter it on everyone's blog lately.

Does anyone know what's up with this? I thought it might be a gentle "push" from Google to join Google Plus....? Whatever it is, it's annoying. I'm not a verified human?! Okay, well, sometimes I do feel like a robot, but I still run on chocolate, coffee, and fresh bakery buns.

The photos that busted out

If I make my blog photos BIGGER, surely they must be better. Surely I am VISIBLE now. Look out guys at Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style because I'll be HOGGING the WHOLE PLACE with my HUUUGE photos and BIG FACE.
BIGGER equals BETTER. HUUUGER, HUUUGEST...
Of course you can see me, hear me, smell me if I am moving, loud, bright, and you've caught me just after a mug of strong coffee. B&W works too if it's huuuge. How unutterably annoying it is to see these unprofessional, pixelated photos leaching obnoxiously past the margins into my carefully groomed sidebar.
But this does raise an issue - I've been thinking of w-i-d-e-n-ing my margins. gasp. Seriously.
BAM! BAMM BAMMM!! 
I like the sense of s-p-a-c-e I feel on blogs with a wider margin. Maybe some of YOU have wide margins. GASP!

[Miracle Secrets: Add Inches to Your Margins Overnight and Eat Anything you Like!]

My hair up there reminds me of those newspaper cornstalks we used to make in primary school - just pull for instant vertical extensions. I stretched the image of course; the unadulterated version is the same, minus the head sprout. I don't like the facial expression, but thatsa why I lika, all those little dewlaps doing downward dogs. Wearing DIY bagged-out jeans with eyes on knees, sweeping velvet opera coat, black Olive Oyle army boots (not seen), and some other stuff, forget, not worth it... As long as you can SEE me and SMELL me and WATCH me MOVE in general. [Don't sing that song in your head, you know, the one by The Who that goes, See me, feel me, touch me, heal me...]

THANK YOUS:

Thank you, Sally, of Already Pretty for linking to my post "Trouble posting my face" on your Lovely Links on Friday. That woke up my stats for sure. You can always find a smorgasbord of food for the brain, bod, and soul over there. 

Thanks to Gorgeous Rebecca Harasym of Winnipeg Style for the Vedette Shapewear piece I won in her giveaway a while ago. ALERT: She is giving away a piece every month. Entry is international and the latest deadline is Oct. 26. I'm not showing my faaaabulous piece here (love it!) because it's, well, it's an undie. Normally I'd wear it on the outside but it's not appropriate for this school-marm blog, even though it's pearlescent beige. Or wait till I've finished my drink (see previous post). Rebecca has AWESOME style - I MEAN IT!

FINALLY, thank you, everyone, for your very generous and kind comments on my interview over at Imogen's Inside Out Style blog, her column Stylish Thoughts. It's too funny that just when you think people must be bored by you, opportunities come around and people show up at your door with big smiles. Well, here's big hugs BACK!!!

Have a great week!! I'm knee-deep in words so won't be skipping about quite so much, but you'll be on my mind. (NO NO! Especially don't sing that song by Willie Nelson in your head... Don't DOOONT'T. Relax, don't do it... Gaaa. )

Yellow Skirt Freak Show Update!! and Visible Monday

Great balls of 

sunshine, grapefruit, and rainbow salad

The Freakish Yellow Skirt has landed on

Anne M. Bray of 

Spy Girl

for an "Indian jingle jangle" of salubrious

juicy-fruity frolicking.

See Anne's mesmerizing skirt contortions

With floral sprays and sunny shawl

G o !   G O   N O W !!!

____________________________________________________________________

Thank you, Anne for your brilliant styling!

And other news: VISIBLE MONDAY, Feeling Like Fungus

The rain, oh sweet autumn rain. Yesterday and today I was feeling rather fungal or like a root vegetable to be at one with the leaf rot under foot. This is what I wore.

It was an outfit of nothing. Nothing.

Oversized jeans, top, maxi cardigan, stretch boots, no makeup whatsoever. Fungus does not wear lipstick. I was stripped bare, plain, root runners sprouting from my soles trying to take hold in the soggy earth in an attempt at reabsorption.

Sometimes I just want to disappear into the air, be invisible, even though I do believe that a day not dressing up is a day wasted, Vix's mantra. But this WAS my dressing up, okay, perhaps sideways. I was just melancholy. But then yesterday, as I left my building, this happened...

I encountered three Beautiful People, two men and one woman (expensive or genetically-gifted teeth, early 30s, clean, dressed well), hovering outside the door. As I swept past one of the men called out: "Do you mind if I tell you something?" I stopped and turned. He said, "You're so beautiful." They all nodded awe-fully in agreement. "I love your hair. It's the hair." "No, it's everything." "No, it's just something." "Someone should sculpt you." I thought, oh, fungus becomes me. Clearly they were in a good mood. Quite a good mood. Oh, and to be fair did I mention that they also said, "We're so drunk!" "Yes, we are!" "Oh, yes!"[laughter] And they were, despite it being only 11 a.m.  Just the same, I walked to the coffee shop with a smile on my face.

The lesson here? You'll probably get compliments if you head to the nearest hardcore bar no matter what you're wearing.

Seriously, this was a case of being reminded that invisible and visible are tricky things. Timing, weather, emotional place, a butterfly fluttering its wings in Thailand... Classic chaos theory.  Were there angels dancing beacon-like on my head or were the drunkards some kind of twisted angels themselves? Does it matter?

I still felt fungal at the coffee shop, and that's what I liked, cocooned in my journal-writing and comforted by the patter of rain outside.  

This one's for Patti over at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, my version of invisibly visible. Thanks for the party but please make sure I don't get too rooted in the garden. 

PS. A wee haircut, no recolouring but the platinum in the front is blending with my natural hair. It's magic to be sure.

My fedora made me do it

He was a wise-cracking thug with a mug that only a mother or a streetwise moll dressed as a man, such as Yours Truly, could fall for. He was good for laughs, always had a loaded gun in his pocket - with the safety off. Too bad I hadda off him, the sap. Don't he know commitment is a three-syllable word?

Me and the dames is going for a little joyride down to the joint to hook up with Patti. Hear she's got some action going on - so's if you're Not Dead Yet (Style) git over there, Visible Monday. But bring backup. If ya's ain't there, tell Marty I tips my hat and says hello. Then tell him to get his sorry ass over here to fix these slanty floors if he knows what's good for 'im.

Details of the outfit

• fur felt hat, thrifted
• wool/cashmere coat, thrifted
• jeans, thrifted
• stretch wedge booties, thrifted
• men's tie, thrifted
• tuxedo shirt, thrifted
• leather belt, thrifted

I wore jeans and a belt, a tie, this new old fedora, and this coat twice this past week - I was so in love with the new hat! Plus, it was raining and miserable, perfect for film noir. If I could have walked down the sidewalk in grainy black and white, I would have.

 

Grey-haired bed-head worn as "rocker look"

I woke up. I rolled out of bed. I washed my face. And then I saw my hair. What glory! Why fight it? Why not EMBRACE it? So I did a little bit of Patti Smithing today (rocker chick) and wore my head direct from horizontal position to vertical position, with a slap of red lipstick to celebrate my successful directional change. I thought of putting Product in my hair, but that would mean my hair won!!

What to wear was not a big challenge. I knew I needed denim and my pickle-stabbers (pointy shoes), so for a little glammish ethnic rock on top I went for my Oriental-style jacket with the huge obi, last seen here. No beret - I daren't cover my rock head.

These shoes were made for walking. Really! I've included a close-up, next photo, so you can see what I mean - elastic top, like slippers, with killer kitten heels. I should have bought a dozen pairs, and the store had them in white too, which I curse not buying when I had the chance.

Details of this outfit:

• most gorgeous Oriental-style jacket, thrifted, $15
• ultra low-rise, button-closure Bardot jeans, $10 at sample sale
• lightweight long cotton button shirt to cover stop of said ultra low-rise jeans, thrifted, Value Village
• black vinyl bag, hand-me-over
• long-sleeved T under everything, Metallicus sample sale

I projected some 'tude on the sidewalk in a rather comic attempt to be rockin'. The pose below exemplifies my failure at cool. I tried turned-in toes here which many women seem to do for photos. Why don't men do this? Because it's really weird for one thing, that's why! But it made me feel very On Trend.

You can see the cords of the obi belt hanging down on both sides. I like those dangling bits. My hair is a bit deflated in these photos because I did this shoot after I came home, not before.

Channelling Patti Smith made me feel powerful and surly (with a grin), and if I could play electric guitar (which I would LOOVE to do, it's never too late I tell myself) you would have heard some pretty wicked Jimi Hendrix riffs - maybe I'd even have played with my teeth and behind my head, but not at the same time, that would be kind of hard. My bed-head here was far more spectacular I think, but more Devo than rock and I would have had to wear a flower-pot thing on my head.

How did you rock YOUR day, ladies?