3.2 hot styles you can copy this December

There's nothing like dreary weather to make me feel glum, so imagine my relief when I ran across this uplifting article in my Bloglovin' feed called "5 ways to brighten up a winter wardrobe" by Natasha Alexandrou. The tips were showcased by five stunning young women each wearing one of the following: 

bold scarf
statement outer wear

embellished accessories

bold colours
floral prints

Emboldened by these highly praiseworthy looks, I decided to apply the adage, if wearing one tip is good, all of them at the same time must be waaay better, especially when executed by a woman of my maturity and taste, and came up with the following 3.2 examples of super-powering outfits to whack those winter glumballs outta the park. 

The faux fur stole is a dead giveaway that this is an evening outfit, which must strictly be worn only for evening outings, such as to the opera, fine dining, or looking for golf balls in the dark with a flashlight. I am of course referring to the stole over my shoulders, not the DIY wrap around my head, which is exempt from the daytime/evening wear rules as any right-thinking fashionista knows. 

When O, my partner, saw this outfit he in fact suggested many places I could go that evening, including one with a chauffeur and escorts in uniform. In hindsight I really should have worn bells with this outfit to alert him when I was about to traverse the living room, requiring, as I did, a wide berth for stately passage. He'll be fine again in a few days.

The foundation garments here are an oversized Eileen Fisher top with a Gap T-shirt over it, which I happened to be wearing around the house that day, and this vintage coat. The pants were thrown on in an absolute panic when I realized I had recklessly failed to incorporate the floral print tip.

Oh Claude, you're so amusant! Shall we breakfast at Tiffany?

Only boring people take their daytime wear into nighttime; exciting people, such as moi, take their nighttime wear into daytime. In this case, below, two simple accessories were all it took: sunglasses and a DIY handbag (teacup carrier), which, if you roll your bologna sandwiches into tight little logs, also doubles as a handy lunchbox.  Who would guess that you've been out all night when you look this smashed smashing?

Note the metal clothespin on the red stole tie around my waist. This is every girl's must-have fashion tool for a range of quick fixes; for example, if your stole starts falling down around your eyes, as we know can happen, you can conveniently clip it back into place if you frickin' remember that you have a frickin' clothespin on your stole belt in the first place.

I'm just Stayin' Alive, friends.

And look! Below is another example of how to brighten a humdrum day of potato-picking in a frozen field. (I call my humongous jewels potatoes - don't we all? I shall not engage in a discussion of whether or not my boudoir is a frozen field.) I have simply varied my accessories to create a whole new and enviable look you will be aching to copy this month. I am successfully employing the stupefaction pose here.

More potatoes? Where's the stickin' gravy!!

I switched the white shaggy faux fur vest for a black one, wrapped the stole around my hips instead of my head, balled up one of scarves and tied it onto my head with a new scarf, velvet on one side, sparklies on the other. Voila! The clothespin clip shuts the collar of my coat. Clearly, this is daytime wear. 

EVIDENCE!

And here we have another scarf and different sunglasses. Naturally most of my poses are frisky - you would be too knowing there are tuna fish tight logs with a pickle core in your handbag. Can't wait for lunch! I hope the pickle juice doesn't sog up my cash.

Aaaah. Sigh.

You know what's really funny about this post? I went in thinking, hurry!, let's put on some OUTRAGEOUS clothes!! Don't think - just do. Let's go over the friggin' top! And when I was done I thought, hey, I might just wear this for real, maybe minus a scarf or two. Okay, no, I probably won't wear the potato-picking outfit again. The silhouette with that huge stole around my hips - hahaha! And the hat would definitely fall off. But simply, these clothes made me happy - and warm.

I look quite at home in this outfit below.

If I encountered a woman wearing any of these outfits while I was out on my inspiration walk, would I like her? Hell, yeah! Plus, it's not the clothing itself that's the draw; it's as much or more the chutzpah it takes to be yourself, even when it means standing out of the crowd and risking getting hammered down, especially these days.

And for the record, I do scan those Bloglovin' articles once in a while. Sometimes I roll my eyes so hard I have to give my marbles a good shake for a reset, but I ask you, who doesn't want to learn how to wear a skirt eight ways when it's 5 degrees, right? Hahaha! (This counting thing in general remains a mystery.) And I find many things I like despite the heavy, heavy, HEAVY emphasis on women under 25. For example, in the article I referenced today, here, I would gladly wear that last dress. WOW!

Just because I like to wear what I want when I want doesn't mean I can't appreciate beauty wherever I find it. We all need more beauty in our lives. Definitely.

And that's my report. Oh, I put blue hair gel in my hair that morning too - you can't see it here though. Next time.

Actually, without the hat I might even like the furry hip bumper. Heh.

I'm linking up something here with, you guessed it, Patti at Not Dead Yet Style, Visible Monday, and Catherine, Not Dressed as Lamb, #iwillwearwhatilike.

And don't forget that Anne of SpyGirl is currently exhibiting her portraits of 52 style bloggers in a compilation called "Fashion Rainbow" at TAG Gallery in Santa Monica until Dec. 17. There is an artist panel on Dec. 10, so it's not too late to get in on the action. Anne is also selling items featuring the portraits. Have a look her amazing work here. I so wish I could have attended her show!

ALERT: Society6, which sells Anne's products, has FREE INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING today, Dec 6. 

If you copy any of these outfits, please do let me know. Heh.

PS - I have never set foot on a golf course nor gone searching for golf balls, but I like to see them split open with all those elastics showing inside. Or maybe they are not like that anymore...?

Slack-jawed in a shaggy coat, and other important things

Wearing this inhuman outfit, I went to the park for photos. There were lots of cats there. And I seem to be walking on water. Handy, because it never stops frickin' raining!! 

It's a magic cat with orange/yellow eyes. I'll call him Pyewacket, after actress Kim Novak's Siamese familiar spirit in the '58 movie Bell, Book and Candle, clip here. Ms. Novak plays a cool Manhattan witch who, sadly, becomes a normal, boring person after falling in love with a spineless man played by James Stewart. Sigh.

I looove this outfit. The jacket and vintage humongoid palazzo pants seem to match, and then I wore ruffles and that shaggy vest, newly sprung from its space bag. And the elastic corset belt of course makes any outfit better. 

Fierce, right? Or maybe I simply ate too much chocolate. 

Below, a different outfit featuring the classic stupefaction pose - you know, where you open your mouth a bit. Who knew that looking slack-jawed would be a thing? Of course this look is not unfamiliar to me; I just rarely do it for a camera. 

And I'm wearing white Manic Panic hair gel and white brows created with MAC chromacake. The lipstick, called Poe by Kat Von D, is almost black, but much of it had come off by the time I got home for photos. I belled the bottoms of these pants too. 

I learned this mouth pose from ingenue bloggers. It is the cousin of the half-mouth-droop, taught to me by Sue of A Colourful Canvas. And let's not forget the just-pulled-my-finger-outta-my-mouth pose. You can see my big fail here, last photo.

Lately I've seen bloggers rubbing or smooshing their moist lips suggestively with an index finger. Usually they have tousled, just-woke-up long hair too. Well, I think it's unfair that young bloggers get to hog all the "in" poses. It's time we short-haired (or otherwise), middle-aged bloggers moved in on these hot, hot, hot poses. 

Note the belled bottoms. The colour on the left is more accurate.

Until such happy day, though, at least I can do the one where you use your index and middle finger to strum your lips and make bub-bub-bub-bub sounds. Sophisticated, I know. Maybe I can make it a thing. Which brings me to the next pose...

It was Black Friday last week. In honour I present: the double-raspberry.

Below is the photo I put on IG. Zip it! Zip it good!

Black Friday - it sounds like a spell. It is a spell. You see a sign in a shop window that says 100% OFF STOREWIDE. You think, WOW, that's a great deal, I'll risk it. You go in. Bam, there's a wall of people windmilling their arms to grab, grab, grab. Hardly unexpected.

But where are the deals? Of course there's fine print: on selected items only.  If you're lucky there's a single cast-off on a rack in the very back for 80% off. Fortunately, I usually prefer these rejects, but it wasn't worth sticking around to find out. I sucked up the crowd buzz and left. 

A better view of those pants. Most of my shaggy apparel is out of storage now. In a pinch, I could hide a whole farmyard of animals in those pantlegs.

That's the end of this week's stroll through what I wore. It was US Thanksgiving, and I hope those of you who celebrate had a good one. It's the time to recount our blessings - there are so many. 

Have a good week everyone. Here's a link to Santana, Black Magic Woman, live in 1971. 

Yes, I think I'll also join Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and Catherine, #iwillwearwhatilike, at Not Dressed as Lamb.

Clothes the colour of porridge

Beige pants. They were on the $5 rack at the thrift shop. The first day I glimpsed them, I walked by - not surprising if you know me. I mean, beige, right? Knit, right? Not my thing.

Later that same day I stumbled across a couple of top blogs that were featuring expensive beige camel pants as a seasonal must-have. Uh-oh.

So the next day I went to the shop and had a closer look. They were still there. Missoni, fully lined, finely made, new condition, perfect fit. Sold. $5.

It happened so fast. What was I thinking!? Beige and on trend? It was like watching myself in a movie, screaming: DON'T GO IN THERE!!

The hand forking over the $5 was not my own: it was an imaginary well-manicured and moisturized hand attached to a calm and expensively-scented woman with a Cartier watch, fine pantyhose hosiery and a luxury handbag with a discreet logo, a woman with a quiet, carpeted walk-in closet the size and grandeur of a church, where matching pristine pieces hang on padded hangers.

Clearly I made a mistake. I suddenly started to feel like the next photo. Reminder to self: Never, NEVER go shopping without your morning coffee.

I had considered burying these pants (not à la Stephen King's "Pet Sematary" - who knows what would rise from the ground!) in a ruffled multicoloured lacy blouse and loud coat. Aah, too easy. Too guilt-free.

In the end, I decided to revel in my beigeness. How about a lovely fitted white blouse with extra long sleeves, my D&G pony heels, my so-soft brown leather belt? That would be nice. I even released my beige caramel wool/cashmere coat from its space bag after two years in lock-up.

But the imagined perfection, on this particular day, left me feeling rankled. Restless. Caged. Trapped in that perfect closet.

So like a little truffle pig I rooted out my combat boots and a corset T from Shelley of Forest City Fashionista. And lucky for me, the coat and pants clashed rather well - the coat a greeny beige and the pants a pinky beige. The idea of neutrals in conflict appealed. Then I added three belts and tower hair. My groove had been restored. Kind of. Inside I was wearing polka-dots, almost.

So that's me in beige. I walked with a swagger with my hands jammed in my pockets and wore my squinty Emporio Armani sunglasses, to bring a slightly darker tone to the look. And I clomped - that's what these boots do best.

These pants make me think of that Marianne Faithful song, "The Ballad of Lucy Jordan," here. Lucy is a suburban housewife ready to hurl herself from the rooftop because she realizes that at the age of 37(!) she'll never ride through the streets of Paris in a sports car. Heavy stuff. 

Well, I'm 54 and I still see myself tearing all over the place in a little sports car (well, because I have one, in yellow) - but not in beige clothes. Beige is calm, tidy, so non-freaked out. It's a porridge colour that doesn't suit me. I'd rather wear $20 tattered pants that look like all hell broke loose.

You can see how beige distorts me. Well, technically it's the T-shirt, but you know what I mean.

And that's my report. I got a haircut last night - hurray! A post on that will have to wait. See? It's an exciting life over here.

I guess I'll probably link something up later too. Maybe I'll edit this post too. Who knows?

Edit: I'm linking up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday, of course.
And I'm pretty sure I'll link up to Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb when the time comes.