Hi, Daddy! Hi, Taylor! Hi, Entire State of Tennessee!

Shirt- My dad's practice shirt from college football, Belt- has sorta made the rounds within my friends and family to the point where I'm not even sure anymore, Shorts- LF, FACE BAG!!!- I snapped that shit up before Taylor had a chance to think twice (i.e. vintage that I bought from Taylor), Boots- exact same situation as the aforementioned, the light-up thing is a watch. That's how it tells time. I brought it back from my trip to the Space Age, Triforce Ring- Pamela Love, Cross Bracelet- Konstantino, cause I'm a fancy lady. Told you to stop reading this part. It's just gonna get apeshittier and apeshittier.

This post is weird. I'm gonna post again tonight anyway, so, outline format, take it away...

- Sorry the outfit is a bit boring. Joey and I were in the parking lot of our local "North Texas Attempts Some Kind of Independent Film Store, Fails", realized I was wearing the OfficialTaylorConzelmanOfThingsOnHangersLeatherSmotheringBag AND the OfficialTaylorConzelmanOfThingsOnHangersGrannyBoots, so decided to go ahead, try and minimize my increasingly David Bowie-esque face (Thanks, blahbleghblah, for causing the least flattering weight loss possible!), and show you people what you really want to see. Which would be the aforementioned Conzelman Smothering Bag. We're a morbid lot, aren't we? Speaking of morbid:

  - I lucked out on a perfectly preserved antique Victorian 

    Mourning Locket yesterday. Dead hair and all. 

  - I also got another one of those shiny dead beetle lucite 

    bracelets that creep my mom out so much!

    - See, sometimes I talk about shopping.

    - Still no fashion anywhere in this post, though. I think I 

      kinda dislike fashion. My style icons are Henry Rollins and 

      Brother Ethan. Female-wise...probably the angelic girl 

      who rang me up at Half-Price Books yesterday. And Riley 

      Deaver. But see, all those people are too busy being singer/

      poets, awesome hippie brothers, mysterious book pixies, and 

      amazing singer/dancer/actresses (god, Riley, is there 

      anything you can't do?) to care about "fashion".  I should 

      have thought through this last summer when I started a 

      blog and named it, uh, FASHIONlitter. I guess I just can't

      bring myself to find "icon-status" inspiration in someone 

      I don't even know. I shall make an exception for the late, 

      great Ruth Gordon, and a fictional literary character- 

      Daisy Miller. OH! And Madeline (the blogger, not the child
      who lived in the Plaza), and Taylor, and Stephanie...ok, if 
      I start naming blog-friends this could go on all day. But I 
      can't forget Casey Strawberry Freckleface. Or Langley Meek. 
      She isn't a blogger...more of a guru of all things. Fun 
      Fact: Langley Meek has two sisters, all three of them are 
      stunningly gorgeous. Joey likes to ponder that often- not 
      in a creepy way, more from a genetic standpoint.

      - I was silly not to name this blog something more 

        creative, like my cousin, Sarah, who just started a tumblr     

        www.moonlightstarbright.tumblr.com

        - You should visit my cousin Sarah's tumblr.

        - She is that beautiful pin-up badass I featured. The 

          Zelda Fitzgerald genius Alabama native, remember?

Ok, my outline got all bonkers, and I only have a couple more things to say. 

First: just thought of a few more style icons, and I happened to notice that, once again, there's no Pixie Geldof-esque blahblahs to be found (but let's be honest and ask ourselves why, exactly, Pixie $ Geldof $ is $ a $ fashion $ icon...$$??). There's Travis Jennings Brown, who already sounds like a Hemingway-esque author (if you think I'm referring to Dree Hemingway, then I will seriously block you from my blog), but isn't quite yet. He will be our generation's Hemingway, though, and I shall supplicate at his feet. Maybe he'll let me write a rambling intro or some shit when they do his biography. I could talk about that one of those Den of Iniquity weekends. I promise there will be Simon, and Garfunkel, and naked night swimming. There might be some illicit substances, but then again, maybe we were all straight arrows. I guess you'll find out in fifty years when I write this intro. 
Last but not Least: did you know my daddy was like, a super serious football player? Fascinating factoid, eh? He played Center (?) for the Dallas Cowboys. That's why I live here. Seriously. If he'd been drafted by the Green Bay Packers, well, I'd be me, but in Green Bay. Which I imagine involves a shit-ton of turtlenecks and very little barefoot time. that scares me. 

That was basically ALL tangent. I sounded like an annoying person who took speed. And made about as much sense. Forgive me, I'm doing about five things at once. And I'm not gonna proofread (eeep!). Publish.

Ethan Starts College on Monday and I am LOSING IT. This Post Is All Kinds of Crazy.

Dress, Denim Shirt, Boots, Head Scarf, Necklaces, Slave Bracelet- vintage, Bag- littlest brother Griffen got it for me in Peru, Bracelets- bleghhh, blah blah blah if you have any questions just ask me in the comments, k?

How cool is that last photo? It kinda makes me nauseous...but pretty much everything makes me nauseous these days, so no surprise there. Every morning I open one eye, cautious, breath-held, praying (to whom?) that the fluid sloshing around in my ears isn't gonna result in another day/days/week spent lying on the couch, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 

Explanation: Lucky Ol' Margaret (oh, fuck off, I know referring to oneself in the third person is lame) has another odd illness!!! Technically, I've had the same illness since twenty. I've never mentioned this on the blog, because it is ostensibly a style blog of some sort, but I had a rare auto-immune disease called Guillain-Barre Syndrome, which involves years of recuperation/setbacks. Illness talk is never interesting and always depressing, so if you feel the need for details or a disgusting symptomatic rundown, wikipedia those three evil words. "Guillain-Barre Syndrome". SO. FUCKING. HORRIBLE.

Anyway, the random, ridiculous after-effects of GB linger for years, which sucks. Obviously. And it seems to hurt everything, and currently that thing is my inner ears. I'm sorta at the point where my mom has to accompany me on every doctor visit because all I hear is "bleghbleghbleghbleghhhh". So from what my mother has told me via my ear specialist, I have Labrynthitis. Which basically is just a huge excess of fluid sloshing around inside my ears. Apparently, this is normal for those lucky few who are sorta not really kinda hopefully recovering from an Autoimmune Disease. But if "normal" means having the spins way too often (you know, like when you're wayyy too drunk?), tripping/falling like a toddler, and wasting chunks of my life sprawled on the couch, then fuck normal. 

God, I sound angry. Like, Henry Rollins angry. 

I'm actually quite happy (like, Wayne Coyne happy) thanks to the FANTABULOUS TAYLOR CONZELMAN! Taylor (www.thingsonhangers.com), you made my day, week, month, whatever, with the amazing FACE BAG...plus some other really cool junk I would never have sold. 

Sorry for all the complaining, brother Ethan leaves for college on Monday and I'm starting to lose it. A bit. Or maybe a lot. Colorado is far away and Ethan is so independent and all I can do to keep from a full-on sobbing episode is remember that he will be perfect at whatever he decides to be perfect at- and you will know his name. If you're cool enough. 

Because here's the thing- Ethan, Griffen and I are a billion tiny feathers. You have no idea what's happened to us. We see colors like you hear jet planes.*

*That last part was...ehhh "modified plagiarism"? Sort of a mishmash of Dave Eggers book quotes that probably made sense to only me. 

Margaret, the red-nosed lady...

Coin Vest- vintage, Nirvana Tee- Chaser, so fake vintage (I liked the graphic, ok?), White Cutoffs- Siwy, Belt- vintage, Loafers- men's vintage, Slave Bracelet- vintage...ok, everything else except the earrings (UO) is vintage. Nobody reads this part anyway, from now on I'm getting rid of it. 

My brothers and I are hopelessly impulsive. Like, "How did I end up in Oklahoma with no wallet and a penis tattoo?" impulsive. Or "Why did one glance at a photo of Tao Okomato's bowl cut cause me to chop my hair off with meat scissors over the kitchen trash can and no mirror?". Usually our shared impulsivity gets us into trouble, but I'm seriously proud of my hair-cutting success! This particular adventure ended quite well, except for the part where Joey gleefully grabbed a hunk of discarded hair out of the trash and shouted "Just like a hay bale!". Sad, but so true. 

I'm off to enjoy my second birthday (long story), but welcome any opinions regarding the new hair. I'm kinda digging the obvious choppiness and awkward length, but am no coward when it comes to going shorter. Should I go balls-out and shave my head (that's only sort of a joke)? Or go back to the "Rosemary's Baby" pixie I had for my wedding? Opinions, please (if you aren't super pissed that I've been a horrible commenter lately...). 

BTW. How amazing is that vest? The best part is the symphony of jingles and jangles that probably drives people crazy. But come on, the kind of person who would be super annoyed by a lovely little symphony of jingles and jangles is dour, pinched, and probably teaches Geometry. And fails you at the end of the semester with a 68 or 69. 

I'm in a hurry and am just gonna publish this, so any nonsense is probably not intended nonsense.

WAIT!!! My amazing cousin Sarah Sheffield started a Tumblr, and I'm already riveted. I get a bit teary-eyed at what an amazeballs (stole that word from her) beautiful Zelda Fitzgerald Marilyn Monroe genius perfect hilarious cousin Sarah is. So go to www.moonlightstarbright.tumblr.com and enjoy the ride. 

Miami Arts District

Shorts- Obesity and Speed, Top- stolen from my mom's cloest, Belt Buckle- vintage, Creeper-esque shoes- Nonage, Tie Dye Socks- Journeys, Bakelite/Insect Bangle- vintage, blahblah more flair who cares

Hello, people (person?). I spent a lovely week in Miami and finally got to see the awesomeness at the Arts District. Joey stayed home with his unyielding work ethic, which was sad since he's quite the fan of propaganda art and we ended up at Shepard Fairey land. In case you've been hiding under a giant rock for the last six months, that's Ai WeiWei I'm pointing at in the seventh photo. I refused to pose in front of the art, because posing in front of art is awful and horrible and wrong on so so many levels, hence the generally awkward photos. The posting slowdown should end soon, but maybe not. I'm having a bit of a "who am i?" blogging crisis. 

Peter Max Homage

Denim Vest- LF with painting by Joey, Cutoffs- Self Made, Boots- Steve Madden, Hair Wraps- My Mommy, Bullet Necklace- Self Made, Bracelets- F21

I don't feel like writing a novel at the moment (unusual, eh?), but I definitely feel like I can handle a few bullet points. So. Let's do this.

- Regarding the denim vest: husband Joey doesn't like to brag about his artistic ability, so I shall do the bragging for him. Because of my obsession with all things Peter Max, I basically asked Joey to copy Max's "Closer to God", but with even more neon. Also, a bunch of planets cause planets are cool as shit. So on Saturday Joey sat down and knocked this thing out in about four hours. Pretty impressive, right?

- Mom and I are super into hair wraps and basically anything hair wrap-related at the moment, so if you were kinda squinting at your desktop like, "huh? What's in her hair?", that would be it. I wish my hair were thicker because I'd like to have some really thick dread-wrap type junk going on. 

- I don't think I've worn the above shorts on the blog yet, but in real life they've become my #1 wardrobe staple. It's pretty amazing what you can accomplish with $1 thrift denim and some purple RIT dye. Actually, we've been going bonkers with RIT in general around here, along with about thirty other projects. Then there's all the (future) home projects I've got floating around in my brain. 

- I turn 25 next week, which for some reason seems way older than 24. Maybe cause it coincides with us FINALLY buying our own place (don't want to jinx this, but it looks like we've found exactly what we wanted- like, beyond our wildest dreams what we wanted).

- Casey (www.beautyandtheecstasy.blogspot.com), my mom and I are heading down to Miami next week for a bit of a 25th birthday celebration. Yay! Expect a lot of "beachy" twinsies photos. Minus the obligatory tan with me. I freckle, which is nice, but that's about it. Speaking of twinsies, head on over to Casey's blog soon cause the dress she's wearing in the last picture is seriously perfect. Except for the fact that I'm a giant so it's way too short for me, hence no borrowing.  

- Taylor (www.thingsonhangers.com) is selling me her AMAZINGLY creepy "face" handbag, so you people are gonna get to see a LOT of that highly divisive piece of vintage wonderment. If I could have any handbag ever available, I think I'd still pick the face bag. You're gonna regret selling this one so so bad, Taylor. But don't reconsider. Please. 

- Random: I've been really into "quotable quotes" recently. Feel free to share a favorite, if you're so inclined. 

Yes, I Am Alive + Personal Style Icon #3: Sarah Sheffield

Dress- 90's Vintage (Dallas Vintage Shop), Platforms- Vera Wang Lavender Label, Earrings- Odd but awesome Sally Beauty Supply knockoff in rural Alabama, Sweetheart Bracelets- Ebay (vintage), Cobra Arm Thingy- Another Time and Place, Beaded Pouch Necklace- Vintage (What's On Second in Birmingham, Al), Other Necklaces- Sorta self-made I guess

Heyyy! So about last week...and the week before...I don't have much of an explanation regarding my lengthy blog absence, or billions of readers still checking my weirdo blog often enough to merit one of these: 

Guys, I'm SOGODDAMNSORRY for being a horrible blogger, I know life was incomplete without your superfuckingessential thrice-weekly dose of...uhm, photos in which I wear my clothes and wander around trying to look natural yet somewhat attractive/overly detailed and confusing clothing credits/lengthy nonsensical screeds about cats, random esoteric shit, the latest Mom News, the latest Casey News, how every film sucks except Harold and Maude, how every musician sucks except Cat Stevens and Lou Reed, and the always lengthy portion where I do a LOT of hand-wringing about how "insert my punching bag of the moment here" is a bad feminist. I rarely manage to talk about my blog's ostensible subject- fashion. And litter. 

So that pseudo-apology kinda took a wrong turn and ended up in  Bonkersland. I would delete, but Bonkersland is probably pretty entertaining. Ok, obviously I'm gonna have to ease myself back into the whole "writing a post that isn't complete nonsense" thing. So a few bullet points, then I shall share the next personal style icon with my remaining reader(s?).

- Casey Anthony is guilty. So SO SO guilty. But I think I always kinda knew she wouldn't have to pay for murdering her daughter. After the initial "Are you kidding me? Not even guilty of Felony Child Abuse? WHO ARE THESE JURORS?" shock started to dissipate, I realized it was just another case of attractive white girl syndrome (or we could just drop the fancy titles and call it RACISM). I'd elaborate, but then I'd end up vomiting all over Joey's precious Mac. 

- Speaking of Joey, the two of us are finally, finally moving into our very own place! These are the top reasons for my overweening excitement: Exposed brick walls on which we can display our "art" (the quotes are there for a reason- we tack up some weird ass shit)! A backyard for the teepee Joey plans to build! Painting a giant rainbow on a wall, then christening it our "Official Quote Wall"- anyone can write anything that speaks to them. But I get the first quote..."I have learned that to be with those I like is ENOUGH."- Walt Whitman. Perfectly, profoundly simple way to start things off, eh? And last but not least, the serene knowledge that we can do whatever we want to whatever we want whenever we want, because it's OURS. YESSSSSS!!!!

- Mom, don't worry about little Liza, after a short yet stinky vomiting episode on the way up to Plano, she immediately asserted herself as the Ruler of Legacy. Joey decided she has become a Park Cities Snob Cat. Sherman and Boss were quite welcoming, but she kinda just ignored them (Plano cats...so inferior!). She has been choosing strange hangouts, though. Last night, after stumbling half-asleep to the dark bathroom at 3 am and sitting down to pee, I heard the most horrifying screech/howl/meow/mogwai noise, EVER. Liza, huge eyes glowing, jumped out from behind the toilet (Yes, she was hanging out behind the toilet) and seriously threw her little four pound body at me. Possibly the single oddest and most terrifying moment, ever. 

- FYI: If you aren't my mom, the above story refers to cats. I just realized how insane that whole thing would sound if you assumed these were humans. Mom is worried because we're babysitting her cat this weekend. She assumed our two cats would bully her cat. NOPE. 

Enough about me, let's move on to part 2 of this epic post. 

PERSONAL STYLE ICON: SARAH SHEFFIELD

Trust me, if you only read one of my Icon posts, this should be the one. Say hello to my fascinatingly original cousin, Sarah Sheffield! She's Betty Page, Gloria Steinem, and Zelda Fitzgerald all wrapped into one flamazing seventeen-year-old.

Her style icons are pinup types like Jane Russell, Betty Page, and Marilyn Monroe. Sarah certainly rocks the 40's/50's pinup look, but I love how she throws in elements of Rockabilly and Pseudo-Punk style to make it her own. 

Before we move on: these photos were all taken by Joey in Alabama at the Shaw Family Farm (aka Pinthlocco Plantation) in one of our restored cabins. The farm is one of my favorite places in the world: partially because my Dad, Grandad, and other Shaws have added, renovated, and beautified our family land over the years into something too special to adequately describe, but mainly because most of the enormous (really, ENORMOUS) Shaw family lives within a few hours of the farm (mostly around the Birmingham area). So whenever we go, it's like a family reunion. Obviously, I get to have a much closer relationship with my extended family than most. Sorry for the digression, but our magical corner of Coosa County, Alabama, is too unique to easily explain. And it's given me the chance to really know Sarah, and watch as she's grown up. Although she's one of those few fascinating people who were born mature.  

Cool Stove, right? Anyway, she's wearing shoes and a skirt she found at the Goodwill in Alexander City, Al. It isn't a city. It's a sleepy, odd little town about half an hour from the farm. And people keep their old crap forever, so imagine how great the thrift stores are...

Her hair is unbelievable. More explanation later. The shirt is also an Alexander City thrift store find, but she up-cycled the crap out of it. There's even a heart cutout surrounded by circle studs on the back. So cool.

The Sailor Jerry-esque necklace is definitely a Sarah wardrobe staple, as are awesome rings (notice the giant frog?)
I love how my crochet top has a completely different vibe on her than it does on me. It says a lot about her personal style.

Sarah loves the whole "Rosie the Riveter" bandana look. This is my favorite photo of her- the outfit kinda encompasses all the genres she gathers from. And I don't know anyone else who can do gauges and a nose ring, but still evoke the whole pinup look. 
The "Detroit" shirt is Urban Outfitters (I think), and the studded bra was another "crafting and up-cycling at the farm" creation. It started out as a Goodwill random sorta creepy green bra. Notice the chain straps she made?

Sarah is only seventeen, which kinda blows my mind when she's advising me on a crafting/upcycling project I can't figure out, or calmly discussing seriously deep issues with insight/maturity most adults will never master (as she simultaneously drives me around downtown Birmingham, AL while I flip out in the passenger seat about making it to a certain vintage store before they close (("OMG, SARAH, ARE WE GONNA GET THERE? HEY, SERIOUSLY, SARAH, HOW FAR AWAY ARE WE NOW...AND NOW?!)). Sarah being Sarah, when we finally made it (just in time!) and had to run two blocks to get there, she beat me while wearing heels. I had moccasins on. Perfect example of how she's a lady AND one of the toughest people   I know. 

Growing up in Birmingham isn't easy for those who are a bit alternative. And as Sarah says, "Just so you get what I mean by "alternative", think basically anyone who doesn't tease their blonde hair sky high and wear Ann Taylor. Loft, if they feel adventurous." When I referred to her as Zelda Fitzgerald earlier, I meant her willingness to be completely herself in a city that doesn't welcome personal expression much. I also feel that they share a knowledge of exactly who they are, and exactly where they are going, which is sososo unusual to find in a teenager. Zelda's famous quote about being a flapper (and therefore VERY ALTERNATIVE) in Montgomery, Alabama, is the perfect way to end this post. Because it describes Sarah exactly.

"She covered her face in powder and paint because she didn't need it, and she refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring. She was conscious that the things she did were the things she had always wanted to do."- Zelda Fitzgerald.  

He loves me, he loves me not. Actually, I'm pretty sure he loves me.

Skirt- Vintage, Swiss Dot Tie Blouse- Mom's Closet, Little Cat Necklace- Vintage, Earrings- Free People, Spike Bracelet- F21, Multicolored Gem Bracelet- Grandma's, Pearls- Mom's Closet, Lock Bangle- Vintage, Blue Stone Ring- Casey's Closet

So I actually hadn't planned on posting today, but upon showing my mom the AMAZING new poodle-esque vintage skirt pictured above, she brought out the nice heirloom-type jewelry and decided to play Tuesday Morning Stylist! If you're one of the lucky few who know my mother, you understand how amazing a garment (Bah! Hate that word!) must be to pique her interest. And come on, this skirt is FLAMAZING. Ok, bullet point time. This little outline format phase I've been going through is nice...probably less terrifying for you guys to slog through.

- Regarding the skirt: I speak zero French, but apparently the writing is something like "He loves me, he loves me not." Which is just beyond adorable...look at those flower petals! Who didn't play that game as a child? I can't get over the gorgeousness of every little stitch, button, and rhinestone on this thing. Even the red lining is perfect. I doubt "the flower skirt" (I tend to give my clothing handy nicknames) is gonna be hanging out at too many bars or music festivals any time soon. I keep thinking it's gonna like, fall apart if I touch it the wrong way...nope, not used to having such nice things. 

- How cool is the multicolored stone bracelet my mom let me wear? It belonged to my Grandmother, who was such an amazing person (I know it's cliche to drone on and on about the greatness of one's grandparents, but there was literally nothing cliche about Grandma)...she passed away before I graduated high school, and I'd do anything for her to have met Joey. Like my mom, she was hilarious, sarcastic, and completely (refreshingly) herself. I just now decided that after my upcoming "Personal Style Icon" post (Ethan...again...my little brother is unendingly inspiring), I'm gonna do one on Grandma. I already have like ten photos in mind (Mom! Start tracking them down!).

- See that little Mogwai creature in the last photo? She's actually a Persian cat named Liza Minnelli. Liza has only one tooth left, partially because she is older than you (whoever you are), and partially because most of her life was horribly difficult. Because of her tininess (4 pounds!), she was stuck in a cage and forced to give birth to litter after litter of equally tiny kittens- gotta have more fodder for the "tiny animals" craze! Because 'Mericans need their cats and dogs TEACUP sized, OK? I mean, who gives a fuck about the health of the animal? Just keep cranking out those tiny pets! 

- I saw Bad Teacher this evening, and whoaa...bad film. BAD FILM. Joey and I walked out after about an hour, and, uhhh, maybe the last part was soooo unbelievably amazing it made up for...nahhh. I bet it didn't. And now I don't want to write anything else about that waste of celluloid. 

- I recently bought a pair of white silky pants at a thrift store here in big D (Dallas, come on people!), and just noticed that they happen to be vintage Emanuel Ungaro. Awesome surprise, eh? I was wondering why they seemed so nicely made. 

- One last thing I can't keep from mentioning. When you remove an utterly toxic person from your life, it's sorta like losing twenty pounds. I feel like I just lost about forty. THAT is how unbelievably awful it was to walk around knowing a certain female. Earlier this evening, Joey asked me, "So what's the latest with (  )?". I smiled to myself, realizing that I don't have to care anymore. And realizing I don't have to care anymore was sorta like noticing my thrifted pants were Ungaro. Or listening to my little brother give a beautifully-reasoned political argument. Or giggling like a maniac at something hilarious Casey says. I know this whole freaking post is getting sappy to the point of "ok, what varietal did she smoke and how can I get some?", but dude- sometimes the calm after the storm is so blissfully calm that you can't help but get a bit earnest. 

*Sorry I have been such a terrible comment-returner/blog-reader the last couple weeks! I promise to stop with the laziness!