Current Mood: February, Hating Thereof

Image from Zazzle.

Every year I think I'll make it through this month.

Every year, at some point, indubitably, I will force ably be reminded:

I HATE FEBRUARY.

Can't we just skip it?

“Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”

~ Stieg Larsson 

 

(Just imagine that I'm wearing a thermal undershirt emblazoned with this image, for the whole month.)

43 Ideas for Birthday 43: New Sweatshirt

So funny! available here: http://t.co/jOKbMrE2iv http://t.co/MVDrMsaiEE
— Drew Emborsky (@thecrochetdude) November 11, 2014

But it doesn't come in my size..... and I'd only wear it to bed, so ... um... not really. Just silly.

Photo of the Day: Tree Skirt

Don't like that old tree skirt? Don't worry. 

Your weird friend may think it's actually better as a skirt next to your tree.

Thanks to Ms. Christine for letting me hang out all Thanksgiving weekend, decorate, laugh, eat, sleep, etc.

Cheers!

Dreaming Out Loud - Sizing up Saris

Photo via here

Despite having a first generation Indian-American roommate in college for a few years, I didn't really get the desire to wear a sari until recently*. We were just too busy in college and the opportunity never really seemed to come up. I am trying to remember if S---- ever wore one on campus, for a formal or in heading off to an event, but I don't think so. Since she didn't really bring it up, and we were no where near the City to "drop by a shop" I didn't even have an inkling of a desire to try one on. It also wouldn't have been appropriate for a Halloween party, and we didn't have "dress-up balls" like that, at least not that I ever attended.

As the years have gone on, I've had the opportunity to attend a variety of functions with many of my international friends, and even then Western formal wear was the default.

More recently, however, as I've spent more time crafting, I've really begun to appreciate textiles, textures, the workmanship, and the possibilities of color and embellishment that  goes into a sari. Even if they aren't wedding saris, bedecked in more bling that one could possibly imagine, even the "everyday" saris are alive with a rainbow of colors that can't help but brighten your day.

I mean, look at these colors, combinations, and BLING:

Sri Lankan Saris via here

Photo via here

Wedding Saris via here

And this ... this color, this photo, just ... this! Can someone drape and dress me and make me feel like this? And then show me how to pose so I actually take a good photo? (Maybe that's another dream? Actually yes -- another post.)

From here

The thing about saris I've also been realizing is that they can be draped carefully to conceal a multitude of those "things" that women don't (in any way shape or form) want to show, and can also be draped carefully over layers to be modest. Do you know how hard it is with traditional modern Western formal wear to even get a dress that's not strapless or plunging, or both? Or in a size for most of the "normal" American women?

The other reverie about getting dressed up in a sari would include satisfying my urge for a tattoo - by getting a henna one instead. This kind of tattoo would wear off, eventually, not be a permanent reminder that I would probably regret as soon as the ink started to flow, and oh yeah -- not cause pain.

A foot and/or leg henna tattoo would be fun. I'm not so keen on my hands or forearms, just given that they are harder to hide as the henna wears off and, if you are like me, and you wreck your hands two seconds after you look at them. I know feet are sensitive, but it'd be worth it if they looked like this when they were done:

Photo from here

I'd ALMOST think about wearing heels if my feet looked this awesome. Almost. I don't have the heel gene (and that's ANOTHER post.)

Now that I've compiled all these pieces, I realize it's a weird multi-layered dream "ensemble" .. like a sari:
~Dress-up in pretty fabrics and colors
~Faux Tattoos
~And the component of trying on a bit of the exotic without having to travel to the far distant lands.

Not to mention the lurking underlying, real nightmare of having strangers size you up, mentally critique your foundation garments, posture, grooming, and lack of photogenicness ...

So it's a pretty normal REM cycle type dream scenario,

Once I hit Publish, it's like jerking awake to the alarm clock. You can't really get the dream back. It's out there ... and taking on a life of it's own.

I just hope it smells of night jasmine ... and not of desperation.


*I also blame The New York Times for being one of the catalysts for this. See this November 22, 2012 Article on a Jackson Heights Shop that serves South Asian Brides and other clientele and this September 2012 article on the evolving fashion of saris. I'm traditional. I'd go for the full coverage styles, thank you very much.

Summer 2012: Island Hopping, Part 5

After leaving the Ferry terminal I headed up Broadway to find the second of my "islands" for the day. I felt so welcomed by the open arms of Saint Elizabeth - who apparently was the first American born saint (according to the sign there.)

I don't feel as comfortable below 34th, or 14th, or Canal Street, for that matter - so lower Manhattan is way out of my comfort zone. Added to the fact that the landscape of lower Manhattan was changed irrevocably in 2001, there's the added psychic weight that we all try not to deal with while being downtown. Perhaps regular visitors have built up a level of comfort/coping mechanism, but I haven't been downtown often enough. Now that I know how ridiculously easy it is to do the Ferry, and how much I need to be on the water more often, I'll be down a lot more.

By the time I reached the corner of Broadway near the Museum of the American Indian at Bowling Green, I was ready to be distracted by the bright colors of a street market. After being on the water, peering through the haze, bright colors were good to shock my senses back into a state of awareness.

I was initially drawn to the ruched flowers on the red scarf and that drew me into the other wares. Then I found the hand-crocheted embellished (but made in China) wraps. It's a seriously good thing I only had $12 on me for the whole day - and that was earmarked for the last part of my daytrip - so I had no money to spare. There were so many pretties and this magpie wouldn't have been able to resist.

Ooooooh. Glass. OOOOOOH. Blue baubles!

I am seriously going to have to blow this one up and frame it.

Then I found more scarf stalls. Was I in Manhattan or in India at a bazaar?

There were so many tables and racks just full of stones. I love these hanging displays. I just wanted to brush them like harp strings. I also really liked these stretchy bracelets. I have large wrists, so stretchies are better for me. Not that I would wear them. I have my heirloom that I wear every day without fail, so I don't wear additional bracelets. But don't they look inviting?

I couldn't stare at these too much. I was getting sleepy.

So many colors. So many patterns. So much fun. I think I'll play with these pics and make some new cards and prints. I'm lucky these came out. It was so hazy and bright, I wasn't able to see anything on my little screen, with my shades on or without. I had a headache from the heat, humidity, and haze and all the squinting.

I had to pull myself away from the stalls and head back up the Canyon of Heroes. I'm sure I looked like an idiot, but I was totally reading the inserts into the sidewalk. So many historical names and dates - as well as a familiar name. Why Hello Mr. Cliburn. (Yes, I was one of *those* people. I totally stopped in the middle of the flow of traffic and shot these. I do realize the irony of me acting like a tourist.)

The more north I traveled on Broadway, the more I really remembered why I don't like lower Manhattan. Narrow streets. Wall Street. Traders. Tourists. People doing obscene to the Bronze Bull. Tramps aka the Occupy Wall Street "protesters" hanging out at Trinity Church. The construction vibe due to the rebuilding of the Trade Center areas, not to mention the huge transit project expanding the Fulton Street subway hub. I think I might also have been the teensiest bit claustrophobic. The towers in my area just don't seem to hem me in the same way as the walls of this "canyon."

No matter how beautiful the skyline contrasts are (r: St. Paul's dwarfed by skyscrapers and One World Trade) it was hot and I was sticky. I was also way out of sorts to realize that a) my "island" destination, Cookie Island, had been pushed out by the Fulton Street hub construction and the website didn't tell me that [freakin' Google] -- it's a Payless now and b) I couldn't find the subway entrance because of the scaffolding for the Fulton hub and I walked around the block 3 times until I found it.

All the cheery street art in the world didn't cheer me up, but a long cool subway ride north to "island" number 3 of the day did help. I headed up to another unfamiliar area of NYC, the upper reaches of the East Side, to El Museo del Barrio for the exhibition, Caribbean: Crossroads of the World. Pardon the lack of pictures, but El Museo is wrapped up for reno of its own. They also didn't allow photography in the exhibition (which is a shame because I don't draw).

I'll have to do a review of the exhibition at a later time. It's actually a three-parter, spread out between El Museo, the Queens Museum of Art, and the Studio Museum in Harlem. I have a passport to the other 2 now, since I paid admission to El Museo. I can see getting to Harlem, but I don't know about Queens yet.

1 day trip = series of islands
Manhattan
Staten Island
The "lost" island - I think it's on Long Island now, but I'm not heading out there for a cookie
artistic renderings of the Caribbean Islands - Cuba, Puerto Rico, and all the St.'s etc.

Pretty good for:
unlimited trips on my monthly MetroCard
$5.00 student admission to the Museum, cash
$3.75 beverages, cash
And some plastic money in the Museum Gift Shop for trinkets for the kids and to make-up for saying I was a "student."

Better than airfare and accommodations, right?

Retroblog July 8, 1983

WARNING: This entry will discuss delicate feminine undergarments and female body parts. Men, read at your own risk.

Today is July 8, 1983 Time Bedtime

Today we finished all the chores Grandma wanted us to do. Yesterday we went swimming. I have gotten new clothes: shoes, shorts, bras, p.j.'s, slippers.

What fun.

Why is it when you are doing chores for Grandma or Grandpa -- or anyone BUT your parents -- you are more inclined to do them? Could it be the attraction of doing them in a semi-exotic locations? Could it have been the "foreign" nature of some of the chores, like feeding the chickens, running down the lane to fetch the mail, or putting clothes out on a line right near fields of sweet potatoes, soy beans, and/or cotton? Were these chores real, or invented to get three energetic cooped up "city" kids out of the house?

I can't believe I was so excited to go shopping. I HATE clothes shopping. I must have been much less body conscious at that age, or really excited that Mom deemed it time to buy bras. Seriously. Bras. Was I really this age when we started buying the bras? Did I really need them or just want them? I doubt these were really even bras -- more like the camisole/training variety that is more like an undershirt.

This is another instance of wanting to go back in time and tell yourself that there are years of struggles ahead with underwire, slipping straps, and wrong cup sizes. You want to warn yourself about failed flirtations with lace, demi-cups, push-ups and paddings, and flashy prints and colors. The older and wiser you will counsel that comfort and coverage is more important than all that stuff. Plus, she will tell you not to rush to want to grow something that will eventually have to have to be squished into X-ray machines or be potential risk factors.

Goodness child. How about we exchange my "wisdom" with your sense of fun about shopping and lack of body issues?

Deal?