Beige craplastic switch plates, the universal standard in suburbs everywhere, should and can be replaced cheap. It’s a subtle switchover that makes a big difference, and ties in or highlights certain features of your decor, like the metallic in the room, or the color of wood. All of the below wall plates cost from FREE to $2.
Sparkly. I believe in dressing for the exact mood and tone of the day. This Saturday, I heard Dan promote the Idaho Ho Ho album at the Vista Moxie Java, and then went to a holiday party (thanks FlukenBrady). Outfit Breakdown: Caron Chicago (Vintage) dress: $12 (from LUX) Calvin Klein silk belt: Free with Cheep dress (from LUX) Total outfit cost: $12 Accessories Breakdown: Eileen Aigner black half boots: $20 (from Ross) Kenneth Cole Reaction circle necklace: $5 (from Antique World Mall) Vintage faux pearl ball earrings: $1 (from Antique World Mall) Total accessories cost: $26 Cheep! This dress sparkles in person. The belt buckles in the back with 5 hook-and-eyes, and ties in the front. I could have done a full bow, but the one-sided bow covers up my burgeoning Christmas belly better, and looks a little less smaltzy. Side notes: a) I rode my bike in the snow in the dress and the bottom material is so thick you don’t really need stockings. b) I’ve seen Lt. Maria LaGuerta on Dexter wear this necklace on more …
Starting a public-facing blog begs self-examination. I think things like, “Seriously, who do you think you are? What do you know about any of this stuff? You think you’re a simulacrum of Tim Gunn and Padma Lakshmi and Anthony Bourdain and those Brits from Changing Rooms (the much better BBC precursor to Trading Spaces. And yes, I watch too much reality television) on a die-hard budget. But who are you really? A nobody.” Well that’s just it really. I am a nobody, and I felt like one nearly all my life. I wasn’t born with a 75% off Calvin Klein jumper on and a fabulous art-deco mobile over my vintage crib. I was a shy, utter depressive from the age of 11 to at least my mid-20s (RIP, soul-raking sadness). I dressed in rotations of cliché awfulness: like a hobo, like a punk, like a preppie conformist. I ate meat and potatoes and once-frozen vegetables for dinner nearly every night, along with all the processed crap that makes up the blighted American food landscape. I …
