A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius*

Romper- Vintage ('90s), Platforms- Vera Wang Lavender Label, Giant Cuff- my Mommy made it, Shark Tooth Necklace- Mommy/Casey's Mommy dual effort, Hoop Earrings- Free People

So when I refer to my mom (and Casey's mom) as "mommy" in the above jewelry credits, that's pretty damn creepy, huh? You can't hear my vocal inflection (sarcastic), so it's just like I've got a bad case of arrested development (ha! tv show!) or something. 

Alrighty, this shall be my last post before I fly off to Philly/NYC for a couple weeks-ish. Joey and I are visiting one of my favorite human beings on the planet (hi, Seany!) and his family, who are amazing. We bonded with the Phillips family while attending Seany's older brother Ryan's wedding in Fukuoka, Japan, a couple summers ago (less random than it sounds- Ryan married a ((lovely lovely)) Japanese girl ((hi, Eriko!)) who befriended Ryan and Joey when they lived in Fukuoka). So I'm giddy with excitement about all the shopping opportunities up in NY (ideas welcome!!), but even giddier about hanging out with the Amazing Phillips Clan. Random fact: Mr. Phillips totally invented Cold-Eez. You know, the cough drop. Ohhhh I have so many good Phillips stories, but I've written wayyy more than I planned (since I never do that or anything), so I'll space the stories out as I update throughout my time in NYC/Philly.

Oh, most importantly, the vintage romper pictured above? Totally not mine. Casey was the lucky one who found it yesterday at Ahab Bowen (great vintage store). But because she is Casey Russell, the sweetest, most generous, and sparkliest unicorn of them all, I totally get to borrow it for my vacation. Oh! Be sure to head on over to Casey's blog throughout the next week, because Joey took some great photos of her in some really great outfits she put together. There is so much joy in watching Casey methodically build her little outfit piles, accessories always on top. Oh, and we had fun with some hilarious (because I am about three times her size) twinsies photos. Also, you can gaze at her cheekbones and feel like a super creepy person. God, you creeper. 

Ughhh sososo sleepy. Just gotta explain the title of this post and I'm out- since I'm way too lazy to list what Casey's wearing in that last photo, just comment on her blog if you're wondering. Sparkly unicorns named Casey tend to be unbelievably obliging. 

*The title of my post refers to Dave Eggers's first book/memoir. It's of unbelievable literary importance, and he rambles way more than I do- We're talking pages of lengthy footnotes about complete minutiae. So I sorta feel like we're kindred. No. Talent-wise, I'm lying on the ground marveling at the stars, wondering how he managed to hang them in the sky. So we aren't kindred, I just write a whole fucking lot, as does he. But of course his ramblings are endlessly hilarious, perfectly punctuated, and filled with stunning feats of grammar. Dude manages to do gymastics with grammar- so glorious. There's a reason his memoir turned the literary world on it's ear. So if you care about reading, (and you really should...this generation takes so little pride in our trailblazing authors) go read "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius". Although if you care about reading, you've probably already read it. Sort of a Catch-22 right there. Oh! That reminds me: why, why, why are so many people like, proud that they don't read? Can someone explain this to me? Shouldn't that be really embarrassing? 

P.S.- It's late and I'm exhausted so forgive any nonsense, misspellings, etc. Have an amazing, uhh period of time until I next post, lovely humans!


P.P.P.- Some other great books by Dave Eggers: 
"You Shall Know Our Velocity" (fiction) 


"What is the What" (memoir he co-wrote with one of the Somalian Lost Boys) 


"How We Are Hungry" (fictional short stories- my favorites are "The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water" and "What it Means When a Crowd In a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him From His Vehicle, and Then Mutilates Him In the Dust.")


He has also written so so many amazing stories AND found/promoted amazing yet unknown authors in his literary journal and on his website: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/tendency/

My Jacket Smells

Double Breasted Blazer, "Polish Power" Tee, Beaded Belt - Vintage, Shorts- Zara, Shoes- Nonage, Arrowhead Earrings- Urban Outfitters, the usual flair

So the above blazer is seriously my favorite article of clothing at the moment- it looks cool with everything and cost me three dollars. BUT. It fucking reeks beyond comprehension. Casey and I have spent the last few weeks trying various de-stinkifying techniques, to no avail. The previous owner must have been like, the Heaviest Smoker On the Planet. I wore it to dinner with my family tonight and the waiter kept sniffing the air, trying to figure out what that awful stench was. Is it weird (yes, definitely) that I found this amusing rather than embarrassing? So Operation Jacket Stench Removal certainly needs to continue, but for now I'm happy to walk around smelling like I spent the last few weeks rolling around on the floor of a particularly low-rent bar. Which is quite possibly what Previous Owner was up to before dusting herself off and selling some junk at St. Vincent's (thrift store here in big D). 

Now it's time for Joey and I to watch some old Arrested Development (we're working our way back through the whole show- still hilarious). Happy Saturday Night! I would totally be all Go Mavs! and shit, but just can't quite muster much enthusiasm about the fate of our local basketball team. But uh, if they win I guess that's good because everyone seems really excited. There's this Mavs-related electricity in the air tonight- too bad I haven't a clue why this particular game is so important. And of course neither Joey nor my dad could enlighten me. The two of them are odd in that respect- both total jocks who don't follow any sports at all. They just spent about an hour discussing the finer points of their workout routines, but this huge game tonight never entered the conversation. I mean, my dad freaking played football for the Dallas Cowboys during their golden age, and he doesn't care at all*. UGHHHH. I'm boring myself to death with all this sports-related chatter. Sorry. Arrested Development, here I come. 

*Which deeply upsets me when I browse through photos of his football days- you would not BELIEVE the amazing jerseys and tee shirts he just threw away. I missed out on some awesome vintage clothing. I actually had one (one!) perfectly paper-thin NFL shirt that mom managed to keep but of course some awful human being stole it my freshman year of college. The freshman dorms were seriously sticky finger central. 

I'm Baaaaack (and more bonkers than ever).

Hello lovely people whom I'm sure haven't like, forgotten I exist or anything. My week of exile seems to be ending as the mysterious (and terrifying) pinched nerve/muscle spasm cocktail I've endured has finally subsided. Hopefully forever. If the ol' nerve starts "acting up" again, then some seriously scary surgery may be in my future. But for now I feel like Joan Didion emerging from a migraine (if that made no sense to you, then google Didion's essay "In Bed", because she describes coming out of an illness perfectly, and I really shouldn't try to match this perfection). Basically, Cat Stevens sounds beautiful again, and my bonkers jewelry sparkles again. Oh! And my cat, Sherman, has been dive bombing from a really high window onto the couch (that I've barely left) over and over for the last week. I had no idea how funny this was until today. I wish I could fully explain the glorious realization that my sense of humor has returned. 
Anywho, I'm being dramatic as fuck, so let's move on before I start waxing poetic about my "pleasant convalescent euphoria" (quotation courtesy of Joan, via the last part of "In Bed"). So while I've been word vomiting, you've definitely been wondering about the above photo, I assume. That would be my rather early anniversary gift to Joey (we got married three years ago on the 31st)! 
I commissioned The Amazing Shevah Vahdatpour to choose one of Joey's blog photos as a starting point to create one of her gorgeous pieces. But I totally ruined the surprise like, two weeks ago when she emailed me a photo of what she'd come up with so far. I got really overexcited and immediately showed Joey the photo. SO. I may have blown the surprise, but he loves it and I love it and we most def think you should all visit her blog and her Etsy because her prices are currently beyond reasonable, but when she's famous I can't promise they'll stay that way. I'm pretty sure you all know her blog, but if not (where have you been?) then I linked it above. I realize that I'm gushing here, but any girl who kicks ass in so many ways deserves some effusiveness. 

In Which I Really Just Whine a Lot.

Star Print Dress- F21, Litas- Jeffrey Campbell, Neon Green Laces- Journeys, Cross Necklace- Vintage, The usual random jewelry conglomeration.

This is gonna be the shortest post in the (admittedly short) history of my blog. I somehow developed a pinched nerve/muscle spasm hodge-podge that is OHSOPAINFUL. I never knew how many differing ways one's hand/arm/shoulder/neck/back can (and will) go haywire. I also never knew that the word "pain" has many, many facets. So my life right now: not interesting. 

Although I have been attempting to deal with doctors all week! That's always pretty interesting, but my hand hurts way too much to attempt typing out stories that really all just end with how little I trust basically anyone with an MD. I'm pecking out this whole thing with my left hand and am on the verge of smashing Joey's computer to bits (pain makes me angry, go figure), so later, peoplez. 

Oh crap, I forgot something. The awesome green shoelaces? Not my idea. I saw a photo of some genius's Lita-clad feet with neon shoelaces on JakandJil and immediately decided it was copycat time. And the dress is a star print, not polka dots. Someday stars will not photograph as dots. But then maybe someday I'll regain the use of my right hand, but I'm not holding my breath. That would require doctors who give a shit. 

Floral Fingernails

Blazer,Belt,Sweetheart Bracelets- Vintage, Chambray-esque Shorts- BCBGeneration, Lace Tank,Bralet- Aritzia, Hoop Earrings- Free People, Shoes- Urban Outfitters

So the crazy eyes in that last photo most definitely sum up my current state of mind. I'm at the point where exhaustion blends with nutso-giddiness. You know, that feeling you got in middle school the morning after a successful sleepover. And of course we all know that "successful" means that the gossip was horribly cruel enough for those sick adolescent psyches AND you managed to stay awake all night. Because if you didn't...oh man, the gossip would inevitably turn to you, the baby sleeping on the floor who totally stole blahblahblah's boyfriend a few months ago, has fat kneecaps, and hurled after only one Smirnoff Ice that time under the bleachers. God, middle school is the biggest hellhole. I seriously just like, shivered at the mere thought. 

Anyway. Remember last night? When I like, totally drunk-posted? Well that was mostly batshit crazy nonsense (uhhh no more Open Letters To the CIA- I am most definitely a political drunk), but I'm suspicious that my current exhaustion level is just gonna mean more crazy nonsense writing. So. Before I start pondering whether or not Leon Panetta might be a hologram (ya, I def did that in my last post), I'm officially cutting myself off.

Goodnight, peoplez. Bedtime bedtime bedtime!!!!

EDIT: Ok, so I've managed to climb out from the little rabbit hole of drunken exhaustion where I spent the weekend. A couple things:
1) I thought I'd need to go back and edit my last (ohsodrunk) post, but read it over and (although it's like, bonkersly bonkers) decided to leave the whole lengthy screed alone. So ya, there are some definite nonsensical portions/grammatical horrors. 
However, I was really only worried about having inadvertently written something politically or socially insensitive. Thankfully, I just really didn't notice anything like that. So maybe you disagree with my (admittedly leftist) political views, maybe you think I'm an insane person now, maybe you think some of what I write doesn't belong on an ostensible style blog, but as long as I didn't upset you, all is well. Though I never, ever want to hurt any feelings, I'm not blogging to please everyone. I'm blogging because it's fun as hell. I hope you like me, but if you don't, then godspeed. I am pretty damn odd.

2) Regarding this post: I'm obsessed with my current fingernail situation, but was so exhausted last night that I completely forgot to tell you about why I have the Most Beautiful Nails In the Universe. It's those Sally Hansen nail sticker whatevers. God, that was the least descriptive description ever. But I'm probably being redundant anyway, since apparently I was super late to the nail sticker party. After spending all weekend excitedly shoving my fingers in people's faces and getting half-bored "oh, it's those Sally Hansen stick-ons you buy at CVS" in return, I'm sorta doubting a description is necessary. So um, yay! Flowers!

Drink Drank Drunk. Or, Starts Odd and Only Gets Odder.

Silky Open-Back Collar Blouse- Vintage, Vagabond Leather Jogging Shorts- One Teaspoon, Zoe Booties- Sam Edelman, Plaid Bralet- Free People, Collar Necklace- Fallon, Triangle Ring- Pamela Love, Crystal Ring- Ylang23

Typical Saturday evening around here in Pelliconia. Joey is concentrating really hard on affixing a shitload of shiny stickers to our printer. He is obviously enjoying himself like, a whole lot. Oh! Looks like some Kidrobot stickers are now joining the blindingly glittery jumble (digression: tomorrow, mom will receive a giant neon pink poster board covered in photos of her beloved kitty, glitter glue, randomly shaped glitter stickers, and basically every other glitter and/or sticker product the craft store sells...Joey and I usually give psycho-crafts for gifts since we are five years old). So. I wonder how many times I just wrote some iteration of the word "glitter". A lot, probably. But I'm not gonna change it cause glitter is a lovely word with only beautiful connotations. Glitter!

Anywho, on Friday mom and I had some unbelievably unbelievable vintage luck. St. Vincent's (local church-run thrift store) gave up sooo many treasures. The red silky blouse pictured above was an immediate "hell yes". Since it buttons up the back, I can show off my dizzying array of pretty bralets (ha- I most def just referred to my collection of bralets as a "dizzying array", huh? I imagine this situation where I just sorta wander unsuspectingly into my closet and am suddenly struck down by "pretty-bra-overload-dizzymadness" or whatever). Oh, and I'm deeply in lust with the collar on this thing. It could only be improved with some DIY Western-esque silver tips.

My One Teaspoon leather jogging shorts finally arrived and they are everything I hoped/expected. Although being a wee bit large in the ass area, they tend to flap all over the place which exposes some cheek. I'm a lot less modest than I probably should be. Who cares. I'm just ecstatic to finally own them babies. 

Sometime next week I'll wear/blog this oversized circa-80's blazer we immediately grabbed at St. Vincent's due to it's perfect  lion/tiger/zebra/completely bonkers "zoo animal" themed print. I really, definitely want to meet the woman who wore it originally...maybe she'll be my Personal Style Icon #3! I'm actually sort of serious- you'd have to be awesomely wacky to buy that blazer. I guess it's possible that she's just the "I refuse to wash my hair since I've found the grease/dirt buildup effectively protects my brain waves against the CIA, I have thirty talking cats, and practicing Celtic Tree Worship is my touchstone" sort of wacky...which is still kind of awesome. And hey, the CIA is creepy as hell. My fake blazer owner/fake style icon got that one right. In fact, I have a couple of bones to pick with the CIA. 

Dear CIA,

Here is an open letter to you scary people. Ok, yes, thank you for getting Bin Laden. And I really don't care that you killed him, guys. Despite the teensy legality issues starting to crop up. But you need to stop with all the torture, ok? I mean, logically speaking, info garnered from torture isn't gonna be trustworthy like, at all. Maybe sometimes, but words like "sometimes" and "maybe" scare us regular 'ol non-spook folks. This is the USA. We are Walt Whitman, Cindy Sheehan, Pop-Tarts, Huckleberry Finn, fireworks, Pat Tillman, David Sedaris, Bobby Kennedy, cheetos, "The New Colossus". We can't just go around torturing people- we're supposed to be the goddamn Golden Door. Ok, agents, I know the argument: all those deeply American things I just listed exist due to your protection. Sure, CIA. Point taken. But I'm not saying we should abolish you- we need you guys! I think we would totally take off our foil hats, stop calling you spooks, and dislike you a lot less if you'd try this: Do your job until your job means doing something illegal. And don't split hairs regarding the word "illegal". Easy. And seriously, when "enhanced interrogation techniques" (whoever came up with that phrase is quite the genius with euphemisms) lead to multiple unexplained deaths...that's just plain old KGB type shit. THAT has to stop immediately. Nothing could be more at odds with how these United States were supposed to work.

I don't really have anything against Leon Panetta. Your current leader is (?) a sorta reasonable man compared to...every single other director. He actually seems a bit too not terrifying; I'll be pissed if he's just a hologram or something. So assuming Mr. Panetta is not a hologram, the timing is perfect for you to chill out, stop breaking the law, and go visit the Statue of Liberty. All of you. Then and only then will the zoo-creature blazer lady (who might exist, one never knows...) start washing her hair again. 

P.S.- HEY! Can anyone tell that I am really really wasted? Ok, well I am. So. Apologies for any portions that are uhhmm completely unreadable? Oh man are there gonna be some edits tomorrow. Laterz!

Personal Style Icon #2: Casey Russell

Hi, So here I am creeping on the beautiful and hilarious Casey Maria Russell, my second real-life style icon. I kinda love how terrified she looks, like I'm some kind of white-haired ju-on chasing our heroine down a wooded path. Oh. And she's totally doomed. Or so says the legend of the ju-on (you know, "when someone dies in the grip of a powerful rage...blah blah blah").

This first outfit is sort of perfect, partially because it's adorable, but mainly since Casey is demonstrating her total weird-ass shark obsession. The T-shirt is printed with a giant shark jaw, and she's most definitely wearing three separate pieces of jewelry involving shark teeth. The giant tooth on that freaking amazing necklace is like, really real. She has this box filled with shark memorabilia, and once in a while she decides to let our super crafty mothers go nuts making rad shark flair. 
Story: So one time I'm telling Casey a really terrifying story in which Joey and I are on our honeymoon (Virgin Gorda) in this tippity tiny ocean kayak thingee, when suddenly Joey decides to jump out and like, wrestle this shark (tiny, but still!) to the shore so he can study it or some weird shit. I assumed she'd be as "Joey you're a lunatic" as I was, but he informs her that it was a lemon shark. She sort of nods soberly, like shark wrestling is perfectly natural or something, and the two of them use their best kindergarten-teacher voices to try convincing me that lemon sharks are safe as kittens. I wasn't buying it. But I was totally into the fact that this adorable little pixie girl is all shark frenzied. 
Oh, and her little green shorts are Seneca Rising. Just FYI, because I know you want them. 

I'm kinda bummed that you can't see her earrings or necklace all that well in these, since the blue feather earrings and blue rosary necklace Casey was wearing really popped against that watermelon shirt. So just use your imagination, and admire the perfect bells she tracked down. I think they're Hudson. 

We decided to go real high-class and just throw her outfits in a bucket and take the photos in this fairly isolated woodsy area. Because Casey and I share a fascination with all things morbid, we were all "What if someone like, dumped a body here?". Then this cop showed up and informed us that someone had, in fact, dumped a body there. A couple weeks ago. Bad timing.
The cop then made quite a conclusion jump and decided Joey had kidnapped us and was like, forcing us to pose for photos against our will. I assume you can imagine our difficulty explaining what exactly we were doing. Apparently the area is on "high alert" so after some harassment and a really goddamn odd warning about bobcats (?!) we were kicked out. Of the woods. I seriously doubt that's legal, but dude was squirrelly as hell (jittery hands, constant gun touching...) so we just went with it. 

But before our run-in with the law, we did manage some great photos of Casey in her super cute Free People eyelet dress. I'm totally creeping in the background again, but at least I look human. 

Since Casey is a petite little fairy, she can wear shirts like this stripey sailory piece as a mini dress. For that, I am jealous. 
  

So the above oxfords are basically awesome. Floral-print, sequined shoes totally work for me. Casey is really amazing at tracking down random/awesome/original things on the interwebz. Which is one of the many, many reasons why you should start checking out her new blog. Actually, she just updated- perfect timing: www.beautyandtheecstasy.blogspot.com
Maybe if you internet people follow her blog then she'll update more, and she's funny as hell (oh, and just about as long-winded as me...maybe that's a selling point?), so mosey on over there and check things out. Oh, and regarding the overlap between our respective wardrobes: that's just the way it is. We've got this perfect storm of mutual copying, borrowing, and accidentally buying the same things going on, then there's our shared love of piling on the accessories to the point of ridiculousness, so yep. 

Princess shoes: see above! Also, I totally went and bought those hot pink shorts she's wearing (J Crew, odd). Perfect example of the whole wardrobe overlap situation.

I was fairly sure that the twinsies photos were gonna turn out awkward. And they did, but this one has a certain charm. Because nothing is more charming than glaring at/silently judging...something?
So I am officially way too tired to do anything more than lie in bed and read this really entertaining/sad/morbid true crime book I've been into recently. Also, I feel like this post is gonna take up an entire blog page so I should probably wrap it up, eh? 
So there you are. Goodnight, people. Don't forget to head on over to Casey's little blog seedling (www.beautyandtheecstasy.blogspot.com). Her latest outfit post really is breathtakingly lovely.