The trend that ate her brain

Trends - they're inescapable. One minute I'm laughing at the fashion lemmings running full tilt toward the cliff, then, blam, I'm reaching for the hideous onesie on the $5 rack.

I figure trend messages are like little bits of dirt that stick to me wherever I go. They come not through TV or fashion magazines, but style blogs and high-end retailers where I ogle opulence and dig for DIY ideas.

So my latest downfall and touchdown - the yellow trench coat, worn here with my happy doggie scarf.

Most of the trend particles are usually expelled; I like to go my own way. But once in a while they get wedged in dark crannies in my brain where, after weeks of constant abrasion, they are transformed into frigging pearls. (I wish it worked like that with cash in my wallet.) This particular pearl was thrifted last week.

Below is the heavy blue satiny dress I wore under the coat, fully lined with pockets. It's "laundry by design" brand. Thrifted. I've had it for years and seldom wore it because I thought it was too short.

While I usually can't pinpoint the origin of my own lemming leaps, in this particular case I can: Not Dressed as Lamb. I shall blame Catherine. Hahaha!! And thank her too because, come on, a yellow trench coat? It's not that she was pushing yellow trench coats like a dealer on the street or a trend hound, but one week she had a link-up theme on yellow and two weeks later a theme on trench coats. Blam!

I'm sure there are other fabulous bloggers who are complicit in this purchase. You know who you are. I of course absolve myself of any responsibility whosoever. I'm clever like that. You may admit your guilt in the comments below. Heh.

Two cases above where I've succumbed to trends. Left: the denim onesie, vintage, thrifted before all the hoopla, but still. And right: the red onesie, thrifted when the trend was dying.

And yes, I've also been wearing my shorter dresses lately, but with opaque tights instead of jeggings or slim-fit pants. This switch seems like a big deal, maybe because tights in general have a rep for being more slatternly than jeggings or jeans, especially on 40+ women wearing suspiciously high hemlines. "Oh, that hussy. She thinks she can disguise those five layers of tights as jeggings or pants? It's a disgrace."

At least my dresses are being worn once again as they were intended - as dresses, not as tunics or long tops. I can't foresee going barelegged with a shorter dress, but never say never. And don't get me wrong, I like tunics, but they don't suit me when I'm in this edgy, pissed off mood.

My style is in flux, as it always is. I just wonder what will happen if someone hosts a linkup featuring green vinyl bikinis one week and pink faux fur the next. Vix? Can you at least give me a little warning so I can corner the market over here when that trend takes its grip? Heh.

I'll be linking this demure little trench to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and to Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb.

That's all, kittehs. It's an interesting week ahead. I'll tell you all about it later.

Also, Katrin Braga, the photographer for Claire Cormeau's Nuage line, posted a new portrait of me. Oh! If you want to see it, check it here.

Also, on his blog Advanced Style, Ari Seth Cohen posted a brilliant piece written by Debra Rapoport in response to criticisms of her style made on Ari's Facebook after he posted Debra's photo. Excellent writing! Exactly!! It's HERE.

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

How to wear a onesie over 50

Uh-oh, I'm wearing it again - the onesie. The Norwegian Original. This time for shopping downtown, not frolicking in the woods like a dork, here. (In my defense, I was delusional under the influence of Justin Bieber at the time. Not true. I'm just always like that.) And look, another one-piece in the woods:

Is it a playsuit? No. A jumpsuit? Nunh. It's a hundreds-of-psychedelic-flowers-are-blooming-all-over-my-electric-body energy glove, never a suit! Worn with my D&G pony shoes, balding on the toe like a beloved plush toy, although I wouldn't sleep with my shoes or cuddle them when I'm unwell. The heels are getting worn too from clicking them together and muttering, there's no place like New York, there's no place like New York.

To be praaactical many might call this a jumpsuit, although there's nothing practical about a delicate rear zip in a vintage one-piece. Sure, if we want to be praaactical, let's just call this a HOPFABAOMEB-EG for short. Snort (as in laugh, not cocaine, my twisted friends). I feel like giving birth to a thousand butterflies when I wear this. Okay, ow. Let's just stop the imagery right there. Moving right along...

Usually I tell my clothes what they are. Are you pyjamas? No. You are swishy-silky-daydreams for shopping in. Are you a tool box? No. You are a magical vessel full of potential riches in both spirit and cash. Unless I can't find my magical vessel, at which point it becomes, Where's my fecking purse!!

Using regular names for things can be useful. If I went to a shop and said, "Do you have any hundreds-of-psychedelic-flowers-are-blooming-all-over-my-electric-body energy gloves," like a smartass, I'd probably get a sneer and snide, "No, lady, we don't." (Sneer and Snide - sounds like a water park or a cartoon duo)

Unless you're Corey Mah at retailer Holt Renfrew, who might just say, "Oh yes, I certainly do! Follow me." He's an art school grad after all. But he would be a rare exception. Even rarer would be that I drop $800 to buy said HOPFABAOMEB-EG, even marked down from $3000.

This is an outtake from my original red onesie shoot, oops, I mean my celebrity-red-rocket-body-casing-of-perverse-pleasure!! In Stanley Park.

Today's ensemble featured lighthouse hair, green shaggy boots instead of runners, and a man robe off and on because it was chilly. I deleted the concrete box - so boooring. As I said before, nobody, absolutely nobody wears onesies in Vancouver. It mystifies; it's such a slackeriffic garment. How do you wear a onesie over 50? Uh, you just put it on. Doh.

Pao of Project Minima had a brilliant idea to wear one green boot and one black since I have these boots in both colours. I love that. Another day.

How's your magical vessel? Bwahaha. Snort.