Divine Imperfections

What to Watch: What Not To Wear

Since I started working from home I have logged a lot of hours of TV watching.

And while a lot of the viewing has been pointless and stupid (do not get me started on last season of Grey’s… a plane crash? Really?)… some of it has actually been – dare I say it – beneficial.

I saw a few episodes of What Not to Wear in college, but I never made it religious viewing.

But since reruns come on right about the time I’m working on the mindless task of sorting emails, I’ve made it a habit to try to catch it.

It’s funny, and a bit cheesy, but it’s also oddly informative.

And yes, the show always starts with an ambush. Some poor sap is singled out for her bad style, usually caught completely off guard and absolutely mortified.

But, and this is what makes me appreciate the show so much, whether they’re teaching a skinny young mom how to look less skanky, or a plus-sized grandmother how to flatter her figure, the hosts (while impeccably stylish and enviably thin themselves) always keep the focus on making the style target feel her best.

 

They don’t tell women the key to happiness is to lose twenty pounds, or to hide all their freckles. 

They don’t tell a vintage-lover to chase every new trend, or a tomboy athlete she should always be in heels. 

They teach her, each individual (who they really seem to get to know and appreciate) to feel her best. To embrace her own beauty. And to reflect who she really is, by dressing in a way that fits with her truest self.

The style remedies aren’t one size fits all.
They’re as unique as the women being made over.

 

Sometimes the focus is on finding great-fitting jeans and sweaters and sometimes it’s cocktail dresses and stilettos.

But whatever the clients take home as part of their $5,000 new wardrobes, it pales in comparison to the real gift the show provides.

 

Confidence.

 

The hosts, Stacy and Clinton (I like to pretend we’re on a first-name basis now) force the women they help to take a deep, long look at themselves. 

And they teach them to focus not on what’s wrong, but on what’s right.

 

When it comes time for haircuts and makeup, even some of the most austere “victims” often lose control. 

And while I’m sure there are impervious women out there, who don’t know why a poor sap would start weeping about side bangs or lip gloss, I’m always glad to see the meltdowns.

 

Not because I'm a sadist, but because I know (from having watched so many episodes of WNTW now) that the other side of that meltdown is wonderful.

 

It’s a woman embracing her inner beauty,
and letting that shine for the world to see.

 

Smart and shy? They’ll teach you to come out of your shell.

Dressed like a hooker ‘cause you’re scared your man will lose interest and leave?

They teach you to dress classy sexy (which I’ve learned does not involve green Spandex as pants, or any amount of side cleavage).

 

Basically, they teach people to play up their best features, and to look past the flaws they can’t change. 

They encourage healing and moving past deep wounds, by putting one’s best foot forward, in a stylish shoe no less.

 

And I know a haircut can’t fix all a girl’s problems.

A new jacket won’t make your career dreams come true.

But I think there is something to be said for a message that encourages you to strive to be your best, while accepting yourself where you’re at.

 

In a culture saturated with skeletal models, and with airbrushed movie stars looking down on us at every grocery store checkout, it’s nice to see real women learning to appreciate their unique beauty. 

It’s nice to see real people accepting themselves, and becoming braver in the process.

 

I've learned a lot about fashion from What Not to Wear, but it's the lessons in bravery that I value the most.

*You can click either photo above to visit its original source.

It turns out Stacy knows a thing or two about learning confidence the hard way.

This story about her past and future is super inspiring. Make sure to check it out!

 

By the way, the initiative to finally publish this post that's been in draft stage far too long came from Anne the Adventurer's blog linkup.

She's encouraging others to write about beauty and body image, their own stories and what's inspiring them.

 

The show and this blog linkup (and maybe my birthday) are just a few of the things inspiring me lately.

What's inspiring you to be more accepting of yourself?

Suddenly Everything's Right

Several months ago I invited myself along with a friend & former coworker to take pictures of a grass fire.

The firefighters had the blaze under control when we got there, which meant we were able to get up close to the flames.

And while fires are dangerous and detrimental, and I’d never encourage someone to start one… I have to admit they’re pretty cool to watch, much less through a zoom lens.

 

Unfortunately, in my haste to get on the scene and brush off my dusty reporter’s skills, I wore my favorite leopard flats to the scene.

They were super comfortable, and fairly stylish, and I had snagged them for the bargain price of $15 while on our honeymoon in Austin. I could wear them for practically any occassion, and got compliments on them frequently.  

But a few hours into my "assignment," several uninhabited acres off a country road weren’t the only things covered in soot.

The unbelievably comfortable, golden leopard flats were now a dingy gunmetal grey, and they wreaked of burnt tires and timber.

My shoes were ruined, really, destroyed.

I guess you could say, they got burned. (I'm awful.)

 

 

I left them on my parents’ porch that night, assuming they were now worthless, but hesitant to personally chunk such a sentimental pair of shoes.

But I saw them again a week ago, while riding in my sister's car.

I don’t know how they got there, or how they avoided the trash, but I decided to take them home, just to see what could be done.

 

In the heat of the moment (pun attended) I'd given up all hope on them being redeemable, but now more soberly-minded, and after hours and hours of unsuccessfully scouring around for similar and affordable shoes, I figured, what the heck.

I might as well see if my flats could be salvaged; I didn't have anything to lose.

 

So yesterday I threw my dingy, soot-covered shoes in a pillowcase (per random internet instructions) and set them to wash, delicately, in cold water.

My hopes were so low I waited hours after hearing the washer alert me it was done, to finally open the lid and see my shoes’ fate. (This is also why I didn't take "before: pictures. I was sure they were goners.)

 

I figure they’d either look the same, or utterly destroyed, with faux fur lining everywhere and the leopard spots completely vanished.

But then I pulled them from the now filthy pillow case.

 

I was astonished!

My old shoes, the ones I was so quick to give up on, were practically good as new.

   

After letting them air out on top of the dryer, and marveling each time I passed them, I finally slipped them on today.

They even feel the same, as they did before the soot. Cozy like house slippers, but not nearly as embarrassing to wear in public.

 

They smell fresh. And they look good.

Without any traces of the sad fate they once held. Here they are, back in my footwear collection. Back on my feet, in fact.

They are restored, to their former beauty.

And I am so thankful.

 

Cause the only thing better than new shoes, is a favorite pair that's good as new.

 

If I’d have seen this transformation on TV I’d have called it too good to be true.

But because I not only saw the before and after, but took part in it, I know in this case it is true.

 

The shoes I had deemed a loss, are now back to being my go to flats.

And all they needed was a quick wash.

 

It’s pretty remarkable isn’t it, how even something that seems beyond repair can be brought back to life?

All it took was a little TLC.

 

And I think that's what a lot of the "broken" things in this world need.

Just a little tender Love and care.

To restore them.

To make them like new.

Akward & Awesome: Epic!

Life has been pretty busy lately. Far too busy to do stupid stuff like unpack boxes or take out the trash... or blow dry my hair. But it's also, sadly, been too busy to consistently keep up the blog. (Wahhh wahhh!)

I couldn't bear to miss another Awkward & Awesome Thursday, though. So here I am making very good use of my lunch break (after scarfing down a delicious chicken salad sandwich... why do they always have to look like cat food?).

For the ease of hitting all the highlights I'm gonna be lazy and list things this week. As always, you're welcome for making a fool of myself. I'd like to think it saves you the trouble of having to do it for me.

Plus, maybe, you'll learn from my mistakes. God I hope so anyways.

I call this the,  "Oh no, I'm getting arrested. Better take of my sunglasses"  pose. I'm pretty sure it'll catch on.

AWKWARD:

*Pretending to be a fashion blogger, and realizing (sarcastic thank you Sister for pointing this out) that you look like you're doing a weird body-rolling dance move when you take pictures... Also flipping through your pics to find a very unflattering butt shot (again, sarcastic thank you Sister)... good times.

*Asking the gas station clerk (where you're buying lunch) about the stuffed frog sitting near the checkout, only to have him hear, "So what's up with your Fro?" (I have been warned I'm a mumbler.)

I didn't realize the confusion until he (a man with a larger-than-life 'fro) and his colleague were already giving me dirty looks and saying, "Did you hear 'fro too?"

I frantically started pointing at the frog, and repeating, "Frog! FROG!" But it was too late. Apparently you shouldn't ask a man about his 'fro. Ever. But especially not repeatedly.

 

*Having a munchkin hand you a crumpled up - and very moist - sticker, seconds after returning from the bathroom.

Particularly if this transaction takes place at precisely the same moment someone else attempts to take your "picture" but gets a VIDEO instead.

 

*Realizing you're the ONLY person who does a bottom-jiggling dance to make sure you're not sitting on your phone. I always thought this was a universal thing... apparently, NOT!

 

 Now for some...

AWESOME:

*Frozen yogurt, with everything but Mochi (which tastes like gooey, pre-chewed bubble gum).

*Friends! Ones that make you laugh a lot. And smile a lot. And are silly. And sweet. And fabulous.

*Sunsets. Particularly over suspension bridges. You'll hear more about this at a later date, 'cause I'm pretty much in LOVE with this view. But for now, here's 1,000 words on the greatness!!!

*Two-bedroom apartments, with plenty of space to spread out. And store 19-boxes still filled to the brim with stuff I've been far too busy to unpack.

*Iced lattes. From anywhere and everywhere. (McDonald's, Starbucks, Common Grounds, Quick Trip...) They are my favorite summertime drink. Besides sweet tea. And Code Red, depending on the time of day.

*Seeing HP at the stroke of midnight! Like the Potterhead I am.

This is a nerdy confession, but I don't care. Some things are just too AWESOME not to shout from the rooftops... like a chihuaha riding a chicken, they're total AWESOMENESS I tell you. Awesomeness.

 
See! I told you. This image "borrowed" from a Hallmark birthday card by the way.

 

Hope you have a wonderful AWESOME Thursday eve, and that I see you soon.

Awkward & Awesome: Double Toilin' Trouble

Soooo this is gonna be a weird month. What with trying to keep up with two blogs, trying to find a two-bedroom apartment, and trying to make it back to the gym more than twice a week. Eesh.

But, it'll be fun too, right? All this doublin' up!

Like a Wrigley Spearmint commercial. Or one of the old Olson twin movies.

 

With the extra/pointless work I've added to my carb-filled-plate, though, I might not be able to write such horrendously long posts here. So I hope you (hi Sister) can settle for shorter entries, like 800 words instead of 1,000. Starting...

NOW.

You didn't think I'd go off to college "fashion blogging" and forget about Awesome & Awkward  did you? That's so sweet. You did. (I hope you got that Sister.)

Well I didn't. Quite the contrary. Instead I decided this would be a good chance to let the two worlds collide, and do a bit of a fashion edition. Let's have some fun.

 

* For day one of the 30for30 I decided to wear white, pink & coral. So naturally, I wanted to take pictures in front of the prettiest pink-graffitid wall in town. Only...

That wall is behind a tattoo parlor. Which is next door to a strip club. A popular one from the looks of the parking lot when I drive by on my way to Bible Study every Thursday.

Soooo.... I did what any committed "fashion blogger" would do. I picked a time I thought would be safe - and with decent light - and parked. By the back of the tattoo parlor/front of the adjacent strip club.

And there, I sat in my car for twenty minutes talking to a friend. But that felt weird. Especially since there was a real/realistic human head hanging from a stick out back. So... I got off the phone. And got out of my car.

And set up my tripod. In the parking lot between the tattoo parlor and the strip club.

Not a problem, right? Totally innocent!

Well the first few shots were okay in the sense that NO ONE saw them. But, like Alec Baldwin in a particularly funny episode of "Thirty Rock," I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands? Holding two coffee cups was not an option. So a lot of the early shots looked like this... (see below). I'm thinkin' it might should be my "signature pose."

Needless to say the simple photoshoot ended up taking quite a bit longer than expected. And, as time progressed, and my poses kept getting weirder (I frequently looked like I had to pee) more and more people started pulling in. NOT to get rockin' arm art, mind you. But to see ladies a lot LESS clothed than me.

I wanted to think the guys that started showing up in droves would at least be impressed with my daring selection of white pants. So I even told myself this when a few started congegrating and staring from several feet away.

But, then I reassesd the situation.

And my ensemble.

And their unhappy looking faces.

And that's when I realized...

 

A fully clothed girl with a big camera and tripod... in the parking lot of a strip club.... looks like TROUBLE.

And not a fun kind, obviously. The PI kind. The kind that wins wives mega money in nasty settlements.

The kind I'm sure some of my new friends would have liked to stuff in the trunk with the tripod I packed hastily after my realization.

Yea, that was day one. And yet... I proceeded.

*This morning, excited to sport my new-to-me gingham shirt, I was a little neglectful of my legitimately new pants. I ripped the big tags from the butt, the way my Mom taught me.

But as I struggled to lock my back door, in a rush to get to work, I was stopped by our sweet - and observant - maintenance man.

I smiled big as I prepared to wish him a great day, until he cut me off with...

"Ma'am. Um, there's a tag on your, ummm... hands motion to my bum region.
Cheeks flush. All our cheeks flush actually."

I had remembered to pull the big tags, all right. But I forgot to get the four-inch long neon sticker announcing my hip width to the world. OOPS.

So much for starting the day with confidence.

Still, Que Sera Sera, I say. I'm not gonna let a little sticker on my bum ruin my day. Just like I'm not gonna let tripping over a 1/2 inch heel get me down. Well, figuratively at least.

Just like I'm not gonna let a few (or several hundred) really awful pictures keep me from finishing this silly fashion challenge.

I don't know if continuing to do the same thing expecting different results is insanity or faith. But, onward I go.

Thanks for those of you rooting me on (and laughing behind my Size _ _ back).

 

 

I hope everyone is having a really wonderful week. Filled with lots of AWESOMENESS and Father-pleasing fun.

Miss you guys. Don't be strangers. I know now where we can get coffee, frozen yogurt, and dragon tats. ;)

Going green, Green, GREEN!!!

I could understand why it might seem like I share EVERYTHING already over here on the ol' blog. But the truth is there's a lot I don't tell you, nothing juicy per say, but stuff.

Like yesterday, I bought 14 inch silverware from Goodwill and ate lunch at Taco Bell (not using the silverware). Didn't know that did ya?

And today, I had to listen to poor Mickey wimpering from the trash can after getting stuck in a sticky mouse trap at work. I'd have liked to put him out of his sad, pathetic misery but that would have required touching him, so... I tried not to use the scanner near his death bag.

Then later I spent 45 minutes caught in rush hour traffic - in Waco - something caused by a car on fire, not the usual 5 o'clock crowd.

Also, I had sushi for dinner with some very dear friends. Fried sushi if you really wanted to know - tasted like a fishy version of the now defunct Monte Christo sandwich from Bennigans. (Single tear.)

 

But, it turns out along with a lot of completely irrelevant nonsense, I omitted some very important information earlier this week. Information that has changed the course of my life - or weekend at least. Information that would have been helpful to have on St. Patty's Eve, for instance.

 

You see, that night, after spending a not-so-small fortune at Big Lots of all places - I really think there should be some sort of prize for that - I came home and did the most Irish thing I could think of. I tried my hand at dyeing a thrifted treasure GREEN.

And then I dyed my hair red. AS IF! Just kidding. I'm not nearly that committed. But, I did decide to make the skirt as GREEN as it could possibly go. I thought that was festive of me.

So armed with my Goodwill broom-ish skirt, some Hobby Lobby dye, a single rubber glove and a roasting pan of warm water, I set out to go green, Green, GREEN! 

Only, about four minutes into the project my pig timer dinged, which meant I was suddenly entranced by a delicious diversion...

After which I was far too full to bother with re-reading some silly ol' directions.

Okay, technically I read them, I just completely disregarded them (which is probably worse). Instead of stirring my skirt for 15 minutes and soaking it for 45, I decided to stir my leprechaun green skirt for five minutes and then soak it for two days. TWO DAYS!

And I didn't see any harm in that. Afterall, the skirt cost $4; no harm no foul if it didn't turn out perfect.

Only, in all this clearly careful planning, I failed to prepare for one thing, a big thing.

It turns out trying to be a good tenant by using a tin pan instead of your kitchen sink to dye clothes in is POINTLESS, if...

TWO DAYS after starting this experiment you proceed to dump a turkey basin full of green - presumably toxic - water down that same sink you were trying to save. The side with the disposal no less, that magical device that eats up dead food, but makes funny, funny noises when trying to swallow two days worth of rancid green goop. 

GREEN goop that a few minutes after pouring out, started bubbling up again... in my sink. AND in my dishwasher. And, at the bottom of my precious washing machine.

Now, this seems like prime time to remind you what amazing thing happened this week. Remember when I finally conquered my fear of cooking fish? Fish, the frequently delicious but slightly odorous food that I hadn't prepared at home in over two decades.

Well tonight the scrapings of that precious fish I've been cooking (and burning) much of the week came back to haunt me. That stinkin' rottin' fish puked itself up all over my kitchen sink.

And while I can't say this was at ALL how I planned on spending my Friday evening, (or for that matter how the poor maintenance man* planned to spend his Saturday morning, I'm sure) I can say this experience has made me very happy that one of my Big Lots splurges was a GIANT sweet apple candle.

A candle that just so happens to be red, not green by the way. A candle that's little flicker is helping to restore my kitchen back to its usual subtle, non-offensive scent, and me back to my relative sanity.

Thank you candle, for calming me down.

And thank you GOD (for contributing to the calming) but also for on-site apartment managers.

As my buddy Jim would say, all in all not a bad day.

 

And on that note, here's to hoping your Saturday is filled with more sweet smells than fish guts. Unless of course you're into that sort of thing, in which case, GROSS! 

 

*P.S. If you, my sweet apartment manager or maintenance man, happen to read this... I'm sorry I was a coward and didn't tell you to your face that I'm an idiot. I was hoping it was mostly understood after I had to get help closing my blinds that one time. But also, I DID leave the dye packet on the counter hoping it would do the talking for me.

On the bright-side I can't think of anything more Irish than snakes, so maybe snaking my drain tomorrow will be like an extra fun way to celebrate St. Patty's Week? Nope, you say? In that case, I'll leave you some coffee.

Life is AWFULLY funny sometimes

I say life, 'cause though I tend to equate an awful lot to God's divine will... even I draw the line at fashion trends. We all know where those come from.

So yea... life is awfully funny sometimes. Don't you agree??

 

I mean, in second grade I cried for weeks about having to get Coke bottle glasses. (Particularly after spending most of first grade diligently requesting to be moved closer to the chalkboard so I wouldn't keep failing my spelling tests OR have to forever knock myself off the "cool kids" list.)

This is actually third grade, the very exciting year I asked for a pretty new desk for my birthday, but the glasses are the same. Yup, I was exactly as cool as I sound. This is also a reminder to plug in my scanner. 

 But then last weekend I saw those same glasses, the ones that were the bane of my childhood existence, selling themselves at Urban Outfitters!!!!!

Like my friend (and my sister's future husband) says, "Timing (really) is everything."

I mean, if only I had been in second grade in 2011 everything could have been different. Everything could have been better. Instead of being teased as "Four Eyes" I would have been a trendsetter, not to mention the youngest VP at UO.

Ah well... what's done is done. No use dwelling.

 

You know what's far weirder, though, than just seeing a nightmare revisited?

Buying it!

That's right... against my friend's pleading NOT to...

Mirror mirror on the wall... I'm still a second grader after all.

I think it's like some sort of strange vindication for that poor little (ahead-of-her-time) nerd that's still trapped inside of me. The one I buy Twizzlers for every time we're at the grocery store... all as some sort of lame attempt to apologize to her for being the worst offender, her worst critic, for so many years.

 

Knowing that no things are new under the sun, that everything just keeps cycling back around (especially in fashion)... sure makes ya curious what's next? Doesn't it? Makes ya wonder what's waiting just around the bend, or in the next clearance pile.

Could it be...

Literally the New Kids on the Block... and boy did we know how to make an entrance. Vroom. Vroom.

Earmuffs as summer gear?? :) Well we can hope anyways.

We can hope.

And I think I shall.

 

Happy Saturday!