My scroogy Valentine's day

I leapt out of bed and immediately flung open the window.
"Oy, Boy, you down there, what day is today?" I shouted to the miscreant on the sidewalk.
"Why, Miss (heh), this is Valentine's Day, 2015."
I clapped my hands and jumped with glee. Then I threw a 20-dollar-bill down to the feckless youth.
"Boy, hie thee to the nearest hosiery shop and buy me some psychedelic-patterned leggings!" His eyes grew big with astonishment. "And keep the change!" I laughed.
"Begging your pardon, Miss, there's no feckin' way you'll get psychedelic leggings in this town for under 20 bucks," and he took off down the alley with the money.
It was then I remembered I have a pair of psychedelic tights, the next best thing to leggings, and I ran excitedly to put them on.

I was provoked into wearing these psychedelic-patterned tights today, with a great heaping of jewellery and a short tight skirt, after reading a conservative style advice article yesterday in mainstream media. Happily, provocation is a sure-fire way to push me to new heights in style, art, and attitude. 

Note my new haircut by O. Yes, confession, O cuts my hair. Nobody, high salon or low, comes close to his talent with scissors. Almost all of the white hair from bleaching is gone now but I'll happily stick with this silver for a while, although my hair at the back is still dark.

If someone were to ask me, what's your style, after prevaricating for years I would direct them to these photos. Sitting at my cafe table today turned into a book-signing-without-a-book as strangers of all ages leaving the cafe stopped by to share their admiration of my highly inappropriate clothing. 

My pissed off face

I'm wearing my thrifted shag coat, thrifted Miu Miu boots, and a sample sale skirt rolled down at the waist in a scandalously slovenly fashion and hiked salaciously above the knee. The tights were retail, sadly, more than 20 bucks. The awesome "Dressed to piss you off" T-shirt was a gift custom-made for me by Suzanne Carillo and fit the occasion perfectly. All of the jewellery is thrifted, except the magic loupe O made me. I did my eyes too, for a change. I wish you could have seen my rock-star walk with this billowing shag coat; I was feeling sublime. 

I am always astounded how a negative feeling can bloom into something so staggeringly satisfying in the end.

If someone tells you you can't do something style-wise, how do you usually respond? Have you always reacted in that way?

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?

I feel groggy...

...because that's the label of my coat.

My coat is a lovely shag carpet of delight by Groggy, very good for telling wind direction and as camouflage wear when stalking small cartoon prey. When I bought it the man behind me at the checkout said it looked like a Sesame Street massacre. Bwa-ha-ha.

Then today, an afterthought was expressed on-the-moment, which seldom happens. On my morning inspiration walk, strolling through a group of upscale, edgy, twenty-something men and women, I was suddenly bombarded by compliments on my style. Approbation from young people is very uplifting, so I smiled broadly and thanked them. Then, ten steps past, still hearing them in my wake, I stopped, spun around, and struck a pose. "How's that?" I asked. They laughed, I laughed. I thanked them again for their great energy, and continued on my way. It was a Moment.

The photo above shows my tool box for cosmetic and financial emergencies, my ghost-on-a swing pendant, and the magic loupe that O made me. You've seen the playsuit before, here.

Oh spring, oh spring... how I long for thee. Today was a wonderful harbinger of warmer days to come, sunny, bright, but still nippy, and downtown was crowded with festive St. Patrick's Day parade-goers.

Details

• shag carpet green Groggy coat, thrifted, $20!
• playsuit, thrifted
• ghost-on-a-swing pendant, from friend Monique of little lamp sculptures
• ankle boots, retail long ago
• magic loupe, O made it for me
• tool box, swiped from O
• red beret, thrifted

Thanks for your feedback on helping to date the outfit in my last post. 

I hope you are having (had) a grand weekend full of pleasant surprises. I'm skipping over to Patti's at Not Dead Yet Style for some Visible Monday joy. I hope to see you there looking fabulous as usual.