You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April, 2008.
Two questions in one!
Dreamgrrl asks:
Do you have any recommendations for a simple black flat to wear to work that is actually comfortable AND stylish? My biggest thing I need right now, all my black flats are terrible in one way or another.
And Jenn wants to know:
Help! I can’t stand to wear heels every day and unfortunately I’ve taken to wearing black ballet flats to work every day. It does not look good. So basic black dress shoes…..except they have to be comfortable AND super-professional! Oh, and somewhat affordable…
Ah, the black shoe. Footwear’s equivalent to the Little Black Dress. Everyone woman should one at least one pair.
Let’s start with the flats first. I have one pair of black flats that I have worn to death. They’re actually kind of gross right now and probably something I should throw away if I plan to continue handing out shoe advice.
Just because they’re flat, does not mean they need to be boring. Black flats can be just as cute as red, green or pink with the right details. However, flats usually have very little to no support so if your job requires a lot of time on your feet, it’s important to remember a few things:
Buy leather. Why? It breathes. With warm weather upon us you most likely will be wearing your shoes with bare feet. There’s no way around it, bare feet and shoes make a stinky foot. But you can lessen the odor by going with leather. They also hold up better to wear and tear and the occasional rain shower.
Also, look into additional shoe padding. Any insert for the foot care aisle at CVS will do. You want to be as comfortable as you can while on your feet.
Indigo by Clarks, $69.
This is an ideal work flat. Leather upper, teeny bit of a heel, just enough to give a little foot support and they’re made by Clarks, who are known for their comfort and durability.
D-Luxe by Dollhouse, $60.
Love the little chain detail. Instantly dresses up work attire and can just as easily be worn with jeans.
And of course, if you don’t wear leather, there are plenty of adorable options in synthetic materials. You just might want to add some odor eaters as they will NOT breathe.
Now on to the dress shoes. According to Jenn, they need to be comfortable, super professional, not heels and affordable. Here we go…
With work shoes, I really want to stress that a focus on quality is important. You’re going to wear them a lot. It’s not like car-to-bar heels that you just want to look good, comfort aside. While I am totally a fan of super affordable shoes, I also suggest looking at high quality, slightly higher price as an investment. If you wear an $80 shoe four times a week, you’re really getting your money’s worth.
Back to your question…
I’m going to assume that since you need SUPER professional shoes, your office doesn’t approve of open toe. It’s sad, but often true.
Isaac Mizrahi for Target, $29.99.
I know it’s a heel, but it’s a low-ish heel — good for a long day – and the little buckles make it just unique enough.
Nadine Wedge Pump by Ralph Lauren, $108.95.
Pricey, yes. But high-quality and a gorgeous, sophisticated shoe. We’ll put this one at the very top of the “affordable” scale, yes?
Caesar Wedge Pump by Jessica Simpson, on sale at endless.com for $52.47.
Another wedge, good for comfort and super cute.
Got a question? Email me at tlmoments@gmail.com.
I dreamt about a chocolate donut last night. A delicious, moist, chocolate-covered 300-calorie each Entenmann’s donut.
When I was at the grocery store the other day I walked past the donut display. I couldn’t help it, they stick it right in the middle of the aisle between the frozen vegetables and the crackers, taunting you to make the wrong decision while surrounded with healthy options. It’s been a long time since I had one of those donuts.
They were calling my name. I picked up the box and looked at them longingly. Then I put it down. Then I picked it back up. Then I turned it over to look at the “nutritional” information.
Then I put it back down.
It’s bad when you dream about baked goods.
Becoming a buff bride has been a challenge. I started the week after I returned from Vegas in January and to date, I’ve lost 10 pounds, gained muscle and have hardly any nice work clothes that fit me anymore. But that doesn’t stop me from looking in the mirror and not liking what I see.
I’ve been a major gym-slacker these past two weeks. When the weather got nice the last thing I wanted to do was be inside a gym, so Jen and I tried to play as much tennis as possible before the gray-ness came back. I know that tennis is still exercise, but it’s not the same as the sweat I build up after a go on the elliptical.
Sometimes I miss the carefree attitude I used to have about weight and food. When I was in high school I never gave it a thought. I didn’t have to. Hours of dance a week kept me fit and lean and my body had no qualms eating a big bowl of pasta for dinner.
Even after gaining weight in college, I never did much about it, naively thinking that I was naturally thin and could basically eat whatever I wanted to as long as it was in moderation.
Um, I can’t. We’ve all had a turning point, right? When you look at a picture of yourself and think, I actually look like that?
Mine was a very specific picture from my first trip to Vegas in July 2007. I hate this picture, but I’m sharing it with you anyway.
At my heaviest, I was all chin, arms and boobs. Three places you really can’t hide weight. But even after seeing that picture, I wasn’t kicked into high gear. I don’t know — maybe I was lazy. Or maybe I wasn’t ready to admit that I actually had gained weight.
As the year went on, I lost some weight naturally. When I got engaged, I lost a good amount of weight. I know you can lose weight when you’re depressed, but I didn’t know it happened when you were happy, too. But I did. And then I was stressed over a new job so I lost a little there too. But I was still heavier than I wanted to be.
So here we are, five months into a gym routine and six months away from my wedding day.
It’s not exactly where I want to be, but I’m getting there. I still slip up — a few extra cocktails here, a fried Chinese food dinner there, but I’m trying.
And as much as I know that I must stay away from those donuts, damn, do I want one.
Back in December, Kodiak had surgery to repair a cruciate tear, the equivalent of a torn ACL in humans. The immediate aftermath left him with a gimpy leg in a bright blue cast.
It also required us to lay down ugly gray office carpet on all non-carpeted floors to avoid him slipping and hurting himself while he healed. The healing process was to take 4-5 months and in that time he could only go outside on a leash. No more puppy freedom — running, barking and jumping in his precious yard. He was not the only one who suffered. I took for granted a dog that could go outside on his own to use the bathroom.
It was a long winter.
As the weeks went on, the cast came off and Kodiak slowly stopped limping. Although he appeared much better, we still had to wait until the final sign-off from the surgeon before letting him out on his own again.
The final appointment is in two weeks!
As we’ve gotten closer to the appointment, the weather has changed from a wintry gray to warm spring air and sunny afternoons. And boy, does Kodiak know it. He spends his days with his nose pressed up against the window screen, yearning for the outside he knows and loves.
I too am yearning for him to play outside, as he is now blowing his winter coat, leaving hair ALL OVER my house (and all the additional rugs we’ve had to add) and causing the need for vacuuming to occur at least every other day, which is three more times than normally necessary when he is shedding normally.
Kodiak does not like the vacuum. Or maybe he loves the vacuum. I can’t tell. Either way, he thinks it’s fun to chase it, jump over it, lie down in front of it and anything else that makes it difficult to clean a house.
Observe (and please ignore my pajama get-up of sweatpants and Michael’s shirt.) (Also, there’s no sound so don’t worry about turning on your volume. All you would have heard anyway is the sound of the vacuum and me asking Kodiak to please stop lying down in front of it.)
Kodiak and the Vacuum (I’ve had the WORST time trying to post this video so just click on the link to see it!)
After cleaning I decided to do the only thing I could think of that might buy me an extra day without vacuuming: brush him out. So out to the deck we went, brush in hand. Which resulted in this:
No, it’s not a small animal.
Because the day was so beautiful and with proper supervision he’ll stay put on the deck, we decided to sit outside with him while enjoying our morning Starbucks. Gratuitous puppy cuteness ahead.
Of course later, he not-so-cutely begged for my Poptart while showing off his giant eye boogie.
Oh, dogs.
So it’s Friday. And I’m taking a half day so I get to leave in 2 hours. Woo! I was supposed to have lunch with a very dear friend of mine, but he cancelled. Because he smells. A lot.
Or maybe he just had to work on his basement to stop it from flooding.
Either way, I’m disappointed. But I’m not letting the day go to waste. Instead, I will spend it with my darling fiance and big dog. Sounds like a good Friday to me.
In the meantime, I leave you with something I wrote for work because the topic cracks me up. Happy weekend!
***
In London, Burger King is about to offer a burger for £85. That’s $167.45 US dollars. As part of a strategy to boost their premium market, the burger we’ve come to know will now likely contain wagyu beef and foie gras.
To make it fancy.
The driving force behind the initiative is two-fold: to convince diners that Burger King is not just a one-stop shop for grease, fat and carbs, but to also prove they are more high-scale than McDonald’s. In addition to the burger that costs more than I would ever spend on shoes (and I love shoes), plans for a number of exotic burgers using ingredients such as tiger prawns, steak and guacamole are in the works.
But McDonald’s is fighting back. UK execs have hired design legend Bruce Oldfield (he has designed for Princess Diana and Sienna Miller, among others) to revamp the uniforms you know and love. The goal? To reflect a more affluent, sophisticated image.
This means that bright colors will be replaced with muted blacks, beiges and browns and female management and front of house will wear high heels, pencil skirts and scarves. Men will wear suits.
Are you laughing yet?
The Chief People Officer for McDonald’s said, “The new uniform reflects how there is now a more up-market feel to the business. You still have the value meals but there are also the premium ones, and these uniforms give a more premium feel.”
Still laughing? Me too. Because working for an agency that caters to an affluent market, I feel like I need to send these UK fast food chains a message:
KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE.
Just as I would never pitch high-end electronics to a publication looking for design on a dime, these restaurants should know that their “clients” want the food they know and love - quick, easy, familiar and affordable.
Know your demographic. Can Burger King customers afford a burger with such a hefty price tag? Perhaps some, but all? No way. Seems to me like this PR team was standing a little too close to the frialator.
As for me, I don’t think I’ll be frequenting either establishment. I’m much more of a Wendy’s girl.
I’m wearing leggings today. I know what you’re thinking. Molly? In leggings? But Molly hates leggings! Well, I do. I mean, I did. I mean…
I hate leggings as pants. In my opinion, leggings are NOT pants. Unless you are under the age of 12. It probably has to do with flashbacks from fourth grade, because any girl my age went through the leggings/big shirts/scrunch socks look. There may have also been sweatshirts with puff paint and mirrors on them. Oh, the humanity.
So as much as leggings bother me, I have to admit that every time I see a girl in a cute dress with leggings and flats I secretly want to wear them. But then I think, if I wear them, aren’t I going against what I stand for?
(OK, yes, I have a stance on leggings. So what.)
Over the course of the winter I bought some very cute, very summery dresses that I have been longing to wear every time I open my closet. The bright colors looked so inviting and happy in contrast to my dull winter wardrobe that I was so over. So when the weather took a turn for the better and finally brought us sun! and warmth! and happy!, I was determined to bust out the dresses.
Except there was one problem. The dresses leave both my arms and legs pretty bare and even though I have a very casual office, I didn’t think anyone wanted to be exposed to my see through whitey-white legs.
The internal struggle continued. Until Monday, when my friend Ashley walked into my cube and demanded I tell her the truth: did her cute skirt look ridiculous paired with leggings? No, it did not. And so I was convinced.
Later that afternoon with Ashley in tow, I walked into Marshalls (with blinders on because, shoes! Oh, the glorious shoe section!) and bought my very own pair of leggings.
The first night I left them in the car, to think it over. The next day I brought them in the house, but left them in the bag, just in case.
And today I put them on with my kicky and fun kelly green dress. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, “I can do this. I look cute!”
I walked downstairs and as I rounded the corner, Michael took one look at me and said, “leggings? Really?”
I decided to take that comment as “I’m surprised you’re wearing leggings, given your very vocal opinion on them,” instead of “Wow, you look like an idiot. Please take those off.”
I still don’t know if I love them, but I certainly don’t hate them. At least not anymore.
Except if they’re worn as pants.
Because leggings are NOT pants.
The other day someone left a comment saying it seemed like I was begging, just BEGGING for comments. That made me laugh. It also made me think of a great t-shirt idea. Maybe I should sell them!
We could all get together and wear them en mass. I think it would be fabulous.
Lisa asks:
Hey Shoeru!
Another wedding related question for you! My sister is getting married this summer, and I’m in the wedding party! We have tea-length canary yellow dresses. Here’s the issue for shoes, though: the wedding is all outdoors… there will be uneven ground, and if its rained recently then we can’t wear heels because they’ll just sink into the ground.
We all also are pretty athletic, and not looking for any sort of shoe that might be describe as “cute” or “princess-like”. My sister, the bride, was thinking flip flops, but I think we can do better than that. Also I’m probably never going to wear them again, so maybe suggest something on the cheap side!
Please help soon! The wedding is less than three months away!
As much as I like you, Lisa, I have to say I’m a little upset that you don’t want to wear “cute” shoes. I hear you on the princess-like, but come on. You’re in a wedding! Your shoe is going to be cute whether you like it or not because the opposite of cute is…un-cute? Not cute? I don’t know…on to your question…
To get a little more background, I asked Lisa what her sister’s accent color was. It’s poppy red! How fun! So to clarify, they girls need a shoe that is relatively flat, is not too cute (!) and are very affordable.
For outdoor weddings I always recommend the same thing: wedges. You cannot go wrong with wedges because they still give you the dressy edge, but with a flat surface replacing a heels you won’t sink into the ground. And guess who has a selection of affordable wedges? Payless! Now take your nose out of the air. Payless is not the same store it was 10 years ago — with an abundance of knock-off Keds and clear plastic jellies. They’ve really stepped it up in the style department and especially for shoes you might not wear again, they’ve got some good stuff. Like these:
They come in brown and white and are $22.99. Pair them with capris or a skirt later in the summer and you’ve got a lot of wear for a small amount.
Or what about these red wedges from Newport News? They’re on sale for $24!
And what about flats?
Also from Newport News for $19, these sweet eyelet flats would match perfectly with the yellow dress.
And these red ballet flats from Payless would tie in nicely with her color scheme and at $15.99, even if you never wear them again (although I would!) you didn’t break the bank.
So there you have it, a wide assortment of affordable, cute — but not TOO cute — non-heeled shoes that are definitely better than flip flops.
Happy Shopping!
Makeup like Katherine’s.
Hair like Jamie’s. (Minus the bangs.)
Interesting boutonnieres. I LOVE the dahlias!
Floating candles in the centerpieces.
Kodiak on the table numbers?
Cute umbrellas if it rains.
Alright so this one is just a dream. But look how amazingly gorgeous that is!
Discuss.
Because the best must be shared…
From Lynda Lang on this post:
“Going to a male strip show while you are engaged to be married is a profoundly immoral act. You have a very light-hearted attitude about the way you probably hurt your fiance’s feelings. He was probably concealing how he truly felt, which is a characteristically male response to a pride and ego wounding. Like most contemporary American women you have very little concern for men’s feelings while thinking that your every thought and feeling is sacred. Your fiance should dump you immediately and find a decent woman who respects men, rather than a witch like you. Wake up, Michael!”
Remember when I wrote about lacking confidence? It doesn’t help that a lot of you have seemed to disappear lately. Where did you go? I miss you! Truly, this blog would not be what it is without you guys. I heart you lots. I think what’s missing is the opportunity to get you talking.
That being said, I’m going to take a step away from the lighthearted moments to talk about an article in the Yale Daily News that really fired me up yesterday. I’d love to know your opinions on it too.
“Art major Aliza Shvarts ‘08 wants to make a statement.
Beginning next Tuesday, Shvarts will be displaying her senior art project, a documentation of a nine-month process during which she artificially inseminated herself “as often as possible” while periodically taking abortifacient drugs to induce miscarriages. Her exhibition will feature video recordings of these forced miscarriages as well as preserved collections of the blood from the process.
The goal in creating the art exhibition, Shvarts said, was to spark conversation and debate on the relationship between art and the human body.” (Read the full article here.)
This gets under my skin. Let me make it clear that I am decidedly pro-choice and also pro-art (can you be anti-art?), but this is taking things too far. Purposely getting pregnant while taking drugs to miscarry? On purpose? For art?
Not only is this physically disgusting, it’s a slap in the face to every single woman who wanted to bring a baby into the world and miscarried. For the millions of women that want to conceive and can’t. It also discredits the severity of abortion and miscarriages. They’re not a joke!
“I believe strongly that art should be a medium for politics and ideologies, not just a commodity,” Shvarts said. “I think that I’m creating a project that lives up to the standard of what art is supposed to be.”
Fine, but what exactly is her message here? The story goes on to describe her project:
“The display of Schvarts’ project will feature a large cube suspended from the ceiling of a room in the gallery of Green Hall. Schvarts will wrap hundreds of feet of plastic sheeting around this cube; lined between layers of the sheeting will be the blood from Schvarts’ self-induced miscarriages mixed with Vaseline in order to prevent the blood from drying and to extend the blood throughout the plastic sheeting.
Schvarts will then project recorded videos onto the four sides of the cube. These videos, captured on a VHS camcorder, will show her experiencing miscarriages in her bathroom tub, she said. Similar videos will be projected onto the walls of the room.”
With our current administration the way it is and the future of our country unknown, I feel a project like this is very dangerous to women. The possibility of Roe v. Wade getting overturned is always there. Right now, women have the right to choose what they do with their body. I don’t think choosing this is what women who came before us had in mind.
So…what are your thoughts? For or against? Why? I’d really love to hear all sides.
UPDATE: After all that, Yale is now claiming that the whole thing was STAGED, but Schvarts won’t give a clear answer saying:
“No one can say with 100-percent certainty that anything in the piece did or did not happen,” Shvarts said, adding that she does not know whether she was ever pregnant. “The nature of the piece is that it did not consist of certainties.”
Accompanying article here.
UGH.
(Steps off soap box. Puts it back in closet.)
I struggle with confidence.
Not in every aspect of my life. I know that if you put me on stage I’ll dance my heart out, no matter who’s watching. I know that I can write a story that will capture someone’s attention. I know I can walk — even run — in high heels and when I strut it, believe me, I strut with confidence.
But my confidence seems to waiver when it comes to work. I don’t know why that is. I mean, I proved myself by beating out almost 100 candidates to receive my first job. I didn’t know a thing about public relations then, but I learned. And I did a good job. By the time I left I was so confident there…that I was afraid to leave.
I basically got recruited for my current job and have been given a lot of responsibility already. But even as I work through my daily tasks I catch myself wondering — am I doing well?
I hate the doubt. Little by little I try to push through it. Do a task, even if you do it wrong. Speak up in the meeting, even if you’re wrong.
That’s what it is. The fear of being wrong. And anyone who works in PR knows that sometimes, you’re just going to be wrong. An editor isn’t always going to like your idea. A client might feel you’re not taking the right approach for their product. And a good publicist needs to be able to say OK, I was wrong.
And move on.
So I’m working on it. Day by day, little by little. I hope that the saying you gotta fake it to make it is true. If I keep telling myself I’m confident and working towards my goal, eventually I’m going to get there.
Right?
One thing I am confident about if my shoe advice. So check out this week’s installment below.
Emily asks:
“Oh man I can not believe you are offering to give shoe advice, my hero! I am planning on charcoal grey dresses for my bridesmaids, what color options do I have with that? Our other accent color is a yellow green and then also a moss green but it will be hard to find shoes to match and I don’t know yet how I feel about dyeables.”
When Emily sent me this question I got really excited because a) it’s about shoes and b) it’s about weddings and since I love both this is a welcome challenge.
Here’s one of the dresses she’s considering:
Her accent colors are yellow and green, which immediately made me think of spring and fabulous shoes. Here are my thoughts: I think using your accent color in your shoes is a great way to tie the whole idea together. A cool neutral like gray can really be kicked up by a bright shoe and luckily for you, both yellow and green are very in this season, making them easy to find in a wide price range.
I emphasize price range because if you’re anything like me, you have a group of very individual bridesmaids who may not all love shoes as much as you do. (I know, it breaks my heart too.) Be cautious when asking your girls to purchase a shoe in an unusual color. I could only convince half of mine that purple was a good idea so in the end I had to scratch it.
These Martine satin heels by J Crew are beautiful (and come in both green and yellow!) but are also $235. Quite the investment.
A more budget-friendly solution might be these from Nine West, only $79.99:
Whichever shoe direction you go in, I’d suggest keeping the color as rich as possible. Look for jewel tones that make an impression and look good on all skin types.
Got a question for the Shoeru? Leave a comment here or email me at tlmoments@gmail.com.
Barbie asks: What is your favorite beauty product of the moment?
Hmm…this is a tough one because it really depends on the day. I guess for the past few months it’s been the Clinique Liquid Facial Soap in Extra Mild. My skin gets really dry in the winter and this is the only cleanser I’ve found that doesn’t make my face feel tight.
LS wondered: Do you still keep in touch with Clink? Can you give us an update on her?
Yes, of course we still stay in touch. Clink is doing wonderfully, working hard and taking names. She’s also still planning her wedding. I don’t know if she’ll ever re-enter the blog world, but I promise you to let you know if she does.
Hope said: Do you still get butterflies when you see Michael?
Yes. Yes, yes and yes. I mean, not when I walk in the door and he says, “what’s for dinner, woman?” (Joke, people, it’s a joke. Sort of. Mostly.) But there’s nothing better than seeing the man I love at the end of a long day.
Nowak asked: Aren’t you supposed to wait until the wedding to open the gifts? [Instead of open them when they arrive on your doorstep.] I know that’s what my wife and I did.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Oh, I’m sorry, did you say WAIT to open the gifts? Hahahaha. NO. First of all, the wedding is six months away. What sane woman can sit for six months staring at a pile of pretty wrapped gifts and not open them? Plus, doesn’t etiquette state that you really should send a thank you card within two weeks of receiving the gift? I think it would have been a much bigger hassle to contact the guests who sent them and say “thanks for the box. We’ll be opening it in six months.”
I kid, Nowak, I kid. But seriously. We’re opening the presents.
JenBun wants to know: Who is your absolute dream shoe designer?
Christian Louboutin. Jimmy Choo. Stuart Weitzman. Cynthia Rowley. Nicole Miller. Manolo Blahnik.
I’m sorry, did you want just one?
Soula said: Since you love fashion so much, how come you never pursued your career in that direction?
I always like to look cute, but fashion was never really a passion for me until I got hooked on shoes. When it came to pursuing a career, I was more passionate about writing than designers. However, being able to write for both the Winning Pitch and Star50 blogs has given me the opportunity to write about fashion — a topic that does interest me — and make enough cash to keep my shoe collection growing.
Well, I WAS making enough cash to keep my shoe collection growing. Now it’s all going to the wedding!
Janice wonders: How do you and Michael keep the spark in your relationship?
We pour hot wax on each other. It’s a little Ricky Martin, but hey, some people dig it.
Or not.
Honestly, it’s about making time for each other. We’ve been together a long time — six years — and after six years the infatuation of new love has melted away. I think it has to. But what remains is a really strong foundation built on love, trust and date nights. Nothing beats a good date night.
Relationships will always have peaks and valleys. These past months have been a real high for us, being engaged and planning our wedding. And one day I’ll be complaining that we never do anything and we have to go out. It’s just how it works.
Now I have a random question for you guys.
How do you address a wedding invitation to a married couple with different last names and their child who has the father’s last name? I know they’re still Mr. and Mrs., but when they have different last names does the woman go first followed by the man’s name underneath? And does the child’s name only go on the inner envelope? And where does it go in relation to the man and woman?
HELP.
Also, shoe advice tomorrow. I’m thinking every Wednesday. You like? Send me an email at tlmoments@gmail.com or leave a comment with your question. I’m stock piling them!
- After getting royally screwed over by the IRS (apparently there was a mistake on my W2 at my old job which left me owing money this year, even though I made crap money there), I figured I had to be a responsible adult and not go spend a bunch of money on a beautiful new party dress from Nordstrom.
I may have cried a few tears.
Especially when I was stupid enough to go try on dresses that of course I wanted to buy and had to put back.
Sigh.
So instead I emailed my sophisticated and classy friend and asked to raid her closet, knowing that she would have something beautiful to wear. She brought me four dresses, each one better than the next, including on amazing Anna Sui that I almost picked just because it’s an Anna Sui.
After much deliberation with both Michael and Jen, I decided on the always-classy J Crew.
(This one in black.)
It’s super sexy on and completely stunning, especially when paired with a pair of polka dot peep toes. Outfit for the wedding on Saturday? Check.
- Since my friend’s wedding is on Saturday, a bunch of us headed up to Boston this past weekend for her bachelorette party. It was a ton of fun — from what I remember. Let’s just say that tequila shots are never a good idea.
Ever.
My camera never seemed to make it out of my bag once we left the hotel, but I do have some great poses before we left including this one, where we are obviously super suave.
- Time for another wedding nightmare. Although this one was less of a nightmare than it was just really weird. I dreamt that I was getting married at some sprawling outdoor place and before my wedding ceremony there was a pre-ceremony with all the brides and grooms that would be getting married that within two weeks. We all crammed into a little church and had to talk about our feelings.
Then as we were leaving, I saw my grandfather and he had no idea who I was.
Dejected, I went back to my hotel room where my mom and Suki from Gilmore Girls were trying to organize my seating chart and were arguing because somehow my mom got put at a table with Michael’s German relatives in another room.
Uh huh.
Not wanting to get in their way, I decided to go make rehearsal dinner invites on the hotel computer.
For a rehearsal dinner that had already come and gone.
The night before.
Maybe the tequila was still in my system?
Reminder! The Star50 Purse Party is being held TODAY from 12-2 p.m. EST over at The Winning Pitch. Click HERE for all the details on how you can buy super cute bags at 50% off!
And don’t forget to leave a comment about your favorite Star50 bag over at The Winning Pitch. One comment will be chosen tonight at random and the winner will receive a free bag!
(Today’s real post is below.)
I would do anything for love, but I won’t clean the disgusting gunk out of your electric toothbrush. Gag.
Now it’s your turn. Fill in the blank:
I would do anything for love, but I won’t _____________________________.
Happy weekend!
She moved to my town in 5th grade and took her seat next to me in the classroom. I was in awe of her curly golden hair, such a contrast to my wispy reddish locks. We became friends immediately and spent the next seven years making memories.
She was there for the perils of high school. For first boyfriends and later first loves. (Ironically, they were best friends too.) She pushed me through 5 a.m. crew practices, laughed at inside jokes, smiled through endless prom pictures and mouthed “I love you” as I walked across the stage at graduation.
When we were good, we were great. But when we fought, it got ugly. Beneath the bond, there was often tension, jealousy and competition. Comments about a hair style could cut as deep as one about a boyfriend. But in the end, the good out weighed the bad.
We left for college together — attending the same school for only one semester. She was unhappy there and while I built relationships and joined activities, she chose to leave.
It ended badly. She took her anger over school out on me because I was there. I was too young and stubborn to understand she didn’t know what else to do.
We didn’t talk for years until a few summers ago when one of us, I can’t remember who, sent the first email. Hi, I miss you.
Over time we started to rebuild what was lost. She came to visit, then so did I. Monthly emails continued to be exchanged until today.
Today she asked if she was invited to my wedding. And I didn’t have an answer for her. Because although there was an image of a friendship renewed, I wasn’t actually sure if it had been.
Today feelings were hurt, then examined. Today I realized I’ve been carrying the hurt from seven years ago, a hurt that should have been resolved. A lot can happen over seven years. Although I’m no longer the 18-year old girl that felt abandoned by her friend, that girl still lives in me.
But today the first brick was laid in a path back to a real friendship — a new friendship.
Piece by piece.
Brick by brick.
Back to good.
Wow, do you people deliver! With all your shoe question comments and emails we’ll be set for a few weeks! Awesome. If you didn’t ask one but have one buried in the depths of your sole (ok, ok, bad joke) email it to me at tlmoments@gmail.com.
Today I’m combining two questions into one post because they both deal with white shoes.
Heidikins says:
“And now for a Super Important Shoe Question… white shoes. Can you wear them pre-Memorial Day? What are the rules? I’m talking white-white, not cream, or beige, or neutral/bone/tan stuff… but cute, white peep-toe heels with a bow. Your thoughts?”
Before I dive in here I think it’s important to state that all advice here is a matter of opinion, MY opinion and you can take it with a grain of salt.
That being said, I kind of hate white shoes. Well, not all white shoes, but white pumps. I think no matter how many peep toes or bows you stick on them, they still scream 1984. And unless you take super good care of them, they tend to get dirty really quickly and a dirty shoe is an ugly shoe.
However, I do personally own a pair of white flats that I adore, especially in the summer, because they make my skin look tanner and surprisingly go with a lot of outfits. So if you’re going to go white, I say go flat as well.
Like these unobtrusive sandals. They are white, but because you see more foot than anything it’s not like an avalanche explosion. Plus they’d look adorable will a flowy summer dress:
Or these with a little bit of embellishment. I think the key here is to break up the screaming white with a little bit of detail for optimum cuteness:
As for time of year, I think it’s best to wear white shoes when the weather turns warm. If you live down South you can start earlier than us New Englanders, but I would be cautious to break them out before early May.
And please, whatever you do, stay away from any white shoe that’s patent leather!
Courtney says:
“What do you do with non-fancy but non-everyday white shoes you wore to your wedding outside of letting them sit and collect dust in the guestroom closet? Please share.”
For me, weddings are really the only acceptable white pump occasion. I mean, it’s your wedding, right? But afterwards many brides find themselves with a pair of shoes (often expensive shoes) that they’ll never wear again.
Dye them.
I know what you’re thinking, ugh, Dyeables. But shoe dyeing has come a long way since the days of hot pink shoes to match your hot pink dress that matches your hot pink hat omigod. Since Courtney’s shoes fall in the midrange of casual and fancy, I would suggest dyeing them plain old black. Like a little black dress, black shoes always work.
Since the majority of bridal shoes are made in some form of satin, dyeing really is pretty easy. Remember the red shoes I picked for my wedding day? You could easily dye you shoes that color, or any color of the rainbow, really. Just pick the one that would be most useful to you.
Many stores that sell bridal shoes will dye shoes for you, but a simple Google search for “shoe dyeing” brought up tons of sites as well.
What are your thoughts on white shoes?
First of all, will someone please tell me where the spell check is on the new WordPress? It’s driving me crazy.
Also, don’t forget to visit the post below to learn all about the Star50 purse party on The Winning Pitch this week. You could win a free bag!
Moving on…
I’m kind of at a loss this week so I thought I would take the path of my girl La and ask you what you want to know. Throw some questions at me peeps. A few people have asked me to share my gym routine. Is that something you really want to hear about it? I’ll share if you do.
Moving on again…
The coolest thing has been happening. Presents have been showing up on our doorstep. In big boxes! Most recently we became the owners of a set of dishes and a cute skinny vacuum with a detachable dust buster that I adore. Kodiak hates it. I’m going to have to take a video of him chasing around the vacuum because you won’t believe how agitated he gets over it. He also figured out that if he pushes his nose on the middle button the dust buster turns on.
He thinks it’s the greatest thing since provolone cheese.
He is also in the process of blowing his winter coat, which means I am forever chasing him around with some sort of vacuum and complaining that I JUST CLEANED THERE when he sits down and sheds. I know he can’t help it, but jeesh. I actually tried vacuuming him with the upholstery attachment. He didn’t seem to mind but I don’t think it did much.
He also gets amusement out of saving his dog biscuits all day long until after I’ve cleaned, then plopping down in the middle of the rug to eat them.
Every. Single. Time.
It’s totally on purpose. Michael thinks it’s funny, but that’s because he’s not the one chasing the dog around the house with a dust buster.
Hm. I probably look really funny doing that. Maybe someone should take a video of ME.
PS- The lovely Heidi has pointed out that since I get so many emails about shoes, maybe I should start a once weekly shoe advice post. I got one today, actually. KB sent me a picture of a dress she’s wearing to a wedding and asked what shoes she should wear. I sent her a ton of suggestions.
So, much like Whoorl does Hair Thursdays, if you send me a shoe question, I’ll post it on the blog with suggestions. Just email me!
As some of you have noticed (I see you clicking through!), in addition to writing about fashion and all things girly for The Winning Pitch, I have also started contributing to the Star50 blog where fashion, travel and adventure mesh into one blog.
Star50 Handbags makes super cute bags insipired by the 50 states. We’re not talking cheesy or tacky, people. We’re talking adorable.
And because I love you guys, I must share this great little tidbit. Star50 Handbags will be hosting a Purse Party this Friday on The Winning Pitch blog. From 12-2 p.m. EST you can get 50% off your order (a steal) for you and your friends.
You won’t get the secret check-out code until Friday, but in the meantime, check out Star50 Handbags, then head over to The Winning Pitch and leave a comment about your favorite bag. One comment will be chosen at random and the winner will receive a free tote bag valued at $130!
(Comments have to be approved on The Winning Pitch so don’t worry if yours doesn’t pop up right away.)
I hope you all do some shopping and enter the contest. Sadly, I can’t, but I wish I could!
One of the super cute bags you can get at Star50!
I went shopping on Saturday with a soon-to-be married friend and her sisters to pick some outfits for her rehearsal dinner and bachelorette party. As we shopped, we found ourselves caught between frenzied teenagers in the dressing room trying on prom dresses.
At least, I assume they were prom dresses, even though they had no resemblance to anything I ever saw or tried on while shopping for my own prom. Basically there was one rule: show as much skin as possible. And if that didn’t work, go for ugly.
Like this one. I’m not sure which is worse. The almost crotch-shot or the fact that her dress is held together with nothing more than little bow ties. I don’t know what the back looks like (I can only imagine), but those boys do look happy…
Poor thing. No one told her she looked like an upside down asparagus. Wait a minute, is that what the peeler is for?
I would pay money to see someone walk around like this all night. At least she’s useful. She can fan her friends on the dance floor when they get too hot.
Apparently I’m not the only one who doesn’t like this dress. Her cat seems to hate it too — clearly taking its aggression out on the bottom.
Tara Lipinski? Is that you?
I didn’t know aluminum foil came in blue.
And I’m definitely sure that all animals and birds, including peacocks, are not permitted on school property.
When all else fails, wear a trash bag. You’ll probably look better than anyone else anyway.
Their parents must be so proud.
Dear Michael,
Does it always rain on our anniversary? It seems like it does. Maybe it’s because April showers bring May flowers, or maybe it’s because metaphorically the rain is washing away the troubles of the year just for one day — for us.
Today marks six years together. While wonderful, today is also bittersweet. Today is the last time we will celebrate April 4th as our anniversary. It will be a year and a half before we celebrate again and then we’ll have to turn the counter back to one.
One year of marriage.
I knew I would marry you from very early on. Did I ever tell you about the night my girlfriends and I drank too much apple vodka and I wrote all over my dorm in yellow chalk “I love M”? It was silly, so school girl. When I woke up in the morning my head was pounding. I rubbed my eyes and noticed the yellow residue on my hands. Pieces of the evening started to come back and I sat up to inspect the damage.
It was everywhere. On the door, on the wall, the ceiling and my dresser. You were coming over in an hour and I knew I had to destroy the evidence. I washed away every chalk mark.
Well, every mark except one.
I kept one on the side of my dresser, the side that faced my bed. “I love Michael”.
***
There are memories of you that I will carry with me my whole life. Our first kiss. That night on the cliff — thunder and lightening over the ocean. Your face on graduation day. Standing under the mist in Niagara. Singing along to Counting Crows as the plains of Oklahoma sped by us.
The proposal.
In October I’ll have a new memory. The one where I’m walking down the aisle to you.
One day I’ll tell our grandchildren about these memories. I’ll show them pictures of their grandpa in his 20s. See how handsome? You’ll be a great grandfather. And father.
We have so much to look forward to.
April 4th has been good to us.
I can’t wait to see what happens next.
I love you!
Love,
Molly
I prayed that he would propose on our fifth anniversary. I thought about it all day, alternating between “this could be it!” and “no, too predictable.” It stayed in the front of my mind through dinner (after dessert?), on the drive home (under the moonlight?) and straight until bed time (hidden under the pillow?)
He didn’t propose. If I knew what I know now, I would have understood. But at the time, I was sad.
***
The rest of the year I was obsessed with getting a proposal. I tried not to talk about it, but would hear myself asking when day after day. I cried all the time. Mostly to myself but often in front of him too. I hated my behavior, but I couldn’t stop. People all around me were getting engaged and after five years and no ring in sight, I was starting to question if he really wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
He said he did. He told me to be patient.
***
In the summer he bought a brand new expensive vehicle. I figured that was the answer to my question.
***
I set a time frame in my head. New Years Day 2008. If it hadn’t happened by then we would have to have a very serious talk. I dreaded even the thought of that talk. The possibility of not being with him for the rest of my life made me sick.
***
Michael is a thinker and a planner. He researches products for months before he buys them. He takes the time to go over every angle before making a big decision. If I could have only known what was going through his head.
***
On a beautiful day in September he answered the question my heart had been asking. The proposal is a memory I play in my mind over and over, like a favorite movie that never gets old. Somewhere between tears and laughter, he asked me to be his wife.
There was no hesitation in my answer.
Yes.
***
For weeks we floated in a bubble of happiness. Even with my wedding planning meltdowns he stood tall, supporting me when my strength gave way.
***
When offered a new job he sat with me for hours weighing the options. He told me he would support whatever decision I made. He helped me make the right choice.
When that job took me across the country he was sad.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” he said into my hair as we hugged at the airport. I smiled at the realization that he needs me as much as I need him.
***
“Happy birthday to my beautiful fiancée,” the card read. “The only year I can call you that!”
***
“Guess what today is?”
“Ummm….” he said, being cheeky.
“Exactly seven months until I marry you!”
“Oh jeez,” he laughed, faining bemusement, before scooping me up and holding me tight.
Do you ever envision your life as a movie? That’s how I would describe the moment I graduated from college. Cue the music: girl with the long curly hair walks across the stage — her pink high heels a shocking contrast against her black cap and gown. She’s handed her diploma, smiles and moves her tassel to the other side of her face.
As she steps off the stage she sees him on the other side of the arch. He’s stopped taking pictures and his beaming at her, arms outstretched.
The background becomes fuzzy, leaving only the boy in focus. The music swells, the frame moves in slow motion. She passes through the arch — meant to be a metaphor, she assumes, for the transition from child to adult – and is scooped up in his hug. He swings her around and she laughs while trying to hold on to her cap.
“I am so proud of you.”
***
I think he’s going to ask me to move in with him, but he doesn’t. I put off finding an apartment until the very last second just in case. He’s not ready to live together.
I pay a lot for an apartment I don’t like. I sleep there twice a week. Maybe once. Sometimes not at all.
***
We decide to visit his grandmother in Arizona for Christmas. Knowing this might be the only opportunity we have to make this type of trip, we pack up the car and take two weeks to drive across the country and back. We hit Lake Havasu, the Grand Canyon, San Diego, and Las Vegas. We spend my birthday in a hotel room in L.A. I drink from a bottle of champagne and cry that for the first time, my friends forgot to call. He reminds me we are three hours ahead of them.
To this day, the trip remains two of the best weeks I ever spent with him.
***
I’m drowning in a quarter-life crisis. While Michael goes off to work each day I drag myself to the daycare, where for nine hours I sing songs, hold babies, clean up food and wipe butts. And because the salary is laughable, afterwards I nanny for three wonderful children until 7 p.m. I am stressed and tired — so tired. I try to assure myself the job is just a stepping stone, that I will find a job that utilizes my degree and will make enough money to not pay for things in quarters.
While Michael is sleeping I apply for a job. I’m late for work and I do not care.
***
He smiles and lets me ramble on and on about my first day. “CNN, baby! I got to work with CNN!” I talk until I have no words left and that’s when the doubt creeps in. Can I do it?
“You can do it.”
***
He’s sent away. An entire month in rural Georgia for work. The longest we’ve been apart is three weeks and that was more than three years ago. We talk when he has a free minute, but it is rare. I hide behind a tree at work and cry, still the new girl and not wanting to be seen upset.
The dog, who is still a puppy, regresses and turns on me. He barks and swats and my legs are covered in bruises. I scream into the phone that I’m going to throw him in the river. Michael sighs and promises he’ll be home soon.
***
My lease is up and we make it official. I say goodbye to the very expensive closet and make myself officially at home in his house. Mom, dad and baby dog together as a family.
It is almost a year before we confirm to his mother we’re living together.
A sure-fire way to test your relationship is to spend the summer together in a room the size of a shoe box. We didn’t have to, we just chose to. Or I should say, I chose to and he just went along with it. The summer after my sophomore year I decided to stay in Rhode Island to be near him.
To pay for my room — a small white space in the IEP (International Engineering Program) House — I worked at the local beach by day. By night, the last thing I wanted to do was stay in my room while languages I couldn’t understand permeated the thin walls. So I crashed with Michael. First twice a week, then three times…and before I knew it I had essentially moved in, my bras drying over the side of his lofted bed, my shoes scattered across the limited floor space. In theory, the time together made sense.
In reality, it wasn’t a great move. Love can move mountains, but it can’t stop you from getting under each other’s skin while crammed into a twin bed. It was amazing to spend the summer together, but when I moved into my beach house in the fall, I don’t think either of us were disappointed.
***
That Christmas we planned a trip to the Midwest to visit his father. With his health failing, it was important for Michael to take the opportunity to spend time with him and I desperately wanted to chance to meet the father of the man I loved so much. The plan was simple — get in the car and drive. First to Chicago to visit his sister, then down to Kansas to meet his father and brothers.
People warned us. They laughed and said we’d be ready to kill each other by the time the trip was over. How many days in the car together? Yeah right.
Those people were wrong.
***
On my 20th birthday he handed me a big, light box. I opened it to find a smaller box in the middle.
“I wanted to throw you off,” he said smiling.
I opened it to find a perfect band of diamonds and sapphires. I wore it every single day for the next four years.
***
I stood in the blazing sun and felt the pain in my cheeks. I couldn’t stop smiling. Michael accepted his diploma and scanned the crowd. Even behind his dark sunglasses I knew he saw me beaming. Later that night he rubbed aloe on my burnt shoulders.
***
His father passed in October. I wasn’t sure exactly how to comfort him so I gave him the only thing I knew — my arms. We lay in my bed for hours, alternating between sleeping and weeping, reminiscing and silence. I didn’t go to the funeral. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I desperately wanted to. But with school and finances I couldn’t swing it. I felt awful. Still feel awful.
I should have been there.
***
Michael got a job and began a 16-week training period that monopolized every free second of his life. He tried his best to balance work with friends with family with life. I struggled to remain smiling as he dragged his tired body to my house only to fall asleep in minutes. By week ten my smile failed and I worried.
We made it. Of course we made it.
***
I stood in the snow and watched him — so serious — as he accepted his title. The struggles of the past four months melted away like the snowflake on my cheeks — hiding the tears of pride that ran down them.
