My Boyfriend's Back

I NEEDED a boyfriend blazer.

To which I can plainly hear my father saying “No…You WANTED a boyfriend blazer.”

To which I must respond “au contraire, do you not read Vogue? Elle? Seventeen?” No? What kind of self respecting 71 year old heterosexual male are you? Quick, go out and buy a copy of Cosmo and catch up man.”

I NEEDED, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a boyfriend blazer. My husband’s brimming closet of suits and blazers offered no suitable contender, as he is 6’3 and 230lbs and I am 5’4 and …not 230lbs.


This one is from Calvin Klein and I assume whichever tiny tiny man wore it was the hit of the party back in 1987.

So what does one do in a “boyfriend blazer”? Visit one’s boyfriend, of course. Armed with a quart of Matzo ball soup and a Roast Beef on Rye from Ben’s Kosher Deli, Baby Dean and I paid Hubby a surprise lunch visit today at the office.

And while I still stand firm that I NEEDED this blazer, this awesome brown dress that I eyed two racks over was a Want…but notice the capital W. I plan to chop off a foot or so and turn it into a fantastic tunic that I will wear as an obscenely short dress

My Shameless Habit

Meow...I am a shameless copycat.





Months ago I spotted this little skirt on Brittney's "It's Exhausting Being this Juicy" Blog. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since. But if you know Juicy you know that for this little skirt I am expected to shell out the dollar equivalent of orchestra seats to La Cage Aux Follies




But I never forgot you little skirt, and all the tantalizing ways Ms. Brittney suggested she would wear you.

Last week I was cruising the 5 dollar rack at Worth Repeating and what to my wandering eyes should appear?







A Snip here...a cut here and I have my skirt- or a reasonable facsimile- for the dollar equivalent of renting la Cage Aux Follies or that amazing remake The Birdcage (a fitting theme considering today's blog).

Is there any outfit that Chuck Taylors don't instantly make awesome?














By the way, don't forget to stop by Style...the New Black to enter to win these awesome Cuffs!

Style... the New Black: Accessories Anonymous: Leather Cuff GIVEAWAY!

Where's the Spoon?...Aha

When I put this outfit together I immediately had to add the belt. Without it I look way too much like a waitress and I am NOT a waitress...anymore.

Yes, it is true, I count myself among the millions of other adults who waited tables in their youth. I subsided on hot wings and frozen sugar water, carried five bottles of Budweiser expertly in one hand and I shamelessly flirted with homely men (and the occasional woman) to earn a ten dollar tip on three bottles of Corona. I can admit this because I have been witness to my now husband dance...nay grind on top of the bar with entire Bachelorette parties when he was bartending.

And while I still impress dinner guests with being able to clear any size table of food and dishes with one single trip, I no longer accept tips for doing so. Hence the belt.

Won't you join me on a trip down memory lane...

This is me celebrating my 23 birthday at the Bear Bar, NYC

This is Hubby and Adam (Hubby is the Kisser- Adam is the Kissee)

And this is Sam and Carly wearing the exact same T-Shirts I met their Daddy in!!!

A New York Doll...But Not one of the Originals

Today my day planner was packed with a smorgasbord of “grown-up” tasks. On the menu were two lectures this morning on persuasion and propaganda, a parent teacher conference (I am the Parent in this scenario) and a “Whole Foods” run (or as my cousin calls the store, “Whole Paycheck”).
Of course I decided to channel my inner rock goddess for these tasks. Actually, my black skinny jeans have been calling my name for the past week and a half so I had to humor them for fear of revolt- you know how black skinny jeans are.


I was torn between two icons but finally decided to channel the ever feminine David Johanson for this look, front man for the New York Dolls- I’m sorry Joey Ramone, you will be channeled soon.




The accessories to this outfit are my favorites- the belt was my first belt, couldn’t leave it in the store because I knew I would think about it and the shoes are my birthday shoes from when I was pregnant with the twins; Prada ballet flats that are actually black with a gun metal toe, but I like them all black so I carry a spray can of black shoe polish in my car.

Here's to You Mr. Robinson

Yesterday marked the 63rd anniversary of Jackie Robinson metaphorically whacking that athletic color barrier with his trusty Louisville Slugger.

Today I am honoring this moment history as it encompasses many of my favorite elements:

1) Baseball Players (Yum);
2) Recognizing when a rule is asinine and changing it, as opposed to just breaking it;
3) Brooklyn (Go Brooklyn…go Brooklyn).

I am from Brooklyn. Yup…I’m a Brooklyn girl.

Right now my brothers and my husband are laughing (of course they are…all three were born in Queens). I always maintained that I am from Brooklyn, even though I only lived there for a mere 6 months (my first 6 months) and they all think I am absolutely ridiculous for the claim.

But I was born in Brooklyn and I think that accounts for something. So in honor of Jackie Robinson and by far my favorite borough I drink a glass (or three) and give you this short list of great things that were also born in Brooklyn:

Juniors Cheesecake
The Beastie Boys
The Country’s first Suspension Bridge
Spike Lee
Simon
Garfunkel
Peter Lugers Steakhouse
Woody Allen
The Country's oldest still functioning (poorly) rollercoaster
Nathan’s Famous Franks
Hurbert Shelby Jr.
Issac Mizrahi

This is my outfit today. It has nothing to do with Jackie Robinson or Brooklyn but I thought it was cute. I will be blogging about my knock-off Dr. Scholls soon.

Dressed for a Game of Ping Pong

You know how some people are referred to as “old souls” because they have some sort of inherent understanding of the universe that can only be obtained through coming back and seeing the seasons change 500 or so times?

I am NOT one of these people. I am brand spakin’ new I assure you. I am mystified and intrigued by the simplest processes…flowers blooming…airplanes …even though their explanations are pretty commonly known and make perfect sense to third graders. I am unable to exercise any emotional restraint; I moan loudly when I eat food that I like, even if I have had it 100 times in the past month; I wail in movie theaters where other people merely tear up; and I when I hear a song that I like I dance and sing along wherever I am, grocery stores, restaurants, hospitals…

I am generally pretty immature. I have accepted this fact. My clothing reflects this acceptance.

This is my Abercrombie and Fitch denim mini skirt. It is my best friend. Abercrombie and Fitch denim mini skirt, meet the blogosphere; blogosphere, meet my Abercrombie and Fitch denim mini skirt. I have worn this skirt all summer long every year for the past 6 years. When I was pregnant with the twins I left the button and the zipper open.

I am quite aware that a woman my age- closer to 40 than 30- much much closer- has no business wearing this skirt. Totally inappropriate even at the beach!!! I know this because a few years ago I was talking to the lovely and amazingly stylish Heather who said she would never step foot in Abercrombie and Fitch because everyone in the store is 10 years young than her …Heather is 5 years younger than me.

Today I went out and bought my best friend Abercrombie and Fitch denim mini skirt a new playmate- this white Ann Taylor blouse (am I really that young if I am referring to this garment and a blouse?) They seem pretty happy together.

I am off to get Iced Cream with Baby Dean.


In other news...


I received the highly coveted Sunshine Award which is so fitting for the gorgeous day we are having here in the North East. I am passing on this award to the following lovely ladies...

North of 25A
karlascloset.com (you've gotta check this one out- such style this kid has)
Daddy Likey AGING DISGRACEFULLY
and of course...
THELOOKING _GLASS

(he he he- tag...your it)

What I Didn't Wear on Saturday

This past Saturday night I had a girls night out at a swanky restaurant where the beautiful people go to apparently dine on miniscule portions of mediocre fair, drink watered down versions of popular libations and revel in their beauty. Saturday afternoon my friend Karen (who didn’t even end up coming out with us) asked me to email her a photo of what I was planning to wear. So here it is…what I was planning to wear.

Well, Hubby’s response convinced me to rethink this outfit. In all fairness he was responding to the question, “Do you think this top is too revealing?” and as the steam about to emit from his ears was visible, audible and olfactoral I answered my own question and scurried back to my closet and found a more appropriate top.

Hubby has “approved” this ensemble for general viewing this coming Saturday, when we are going out to dinner with a group of five other couples, the wives of whom this outfit seems tame in comparison.

Disclaimer: Hubby is not some weird control freak who tells me what to wear and what not to wear. I asked…he responded (non-verbally)…I respected his opinion.

P.S. As long as everyone is posting about their shoes today, these puppies make me a full 5 inches taller than I actually am. So I no longer represent the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild, the Lollypop Guild, and I no longer wish to welcome you to Munchkinland!