How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Scarf

Last year, when Edison Elementary held its second annual EdFest† Silent Auction fundraiser, I went. I bought. I volunteered to donate a knitted item this year.

Last Monday, Brother contacted me and said, "I know it's short notice, but Saturday is EdFest."‡

There's a lot of disorganisation and misorganisation and drunkenness§ in the spaces between, but keeping a long story short,¶ I volunteered to give a gift certificate for a scarf.

Thus:





For those of you who don't read mangledese, it says "One pick-your-own-adventure scarf: I'll sit down with the winner over a cup of coffee, a beer or a glass of wine (my treat) and we'll design a scarf for you. Pick your fiber, texture and colour and I'll make it all come true."

Lisa, the appropriate committee member, asked if I had pictures or samples to go with the bid sheet. I sent some pics off Ravelry, but, of course, I don't keep anything I knit.

This whole exchange took place Thursday afternoon.

Thursday night, I had one of my frighteningly brilliant ideas:# find the school mascot and colours and knit a scarf for a toy version of the mascot in those colours. Y'know... just to have something tangible on the table.

Don't think I wasn't hoping they were the Edison R2D2s.††

Turns out they're the Edison Eagles, and their colours are blue and gold-yellow, much like my beloved Denver Nuggets.‡‡

I woke up early Friday knowing I had to find an eagle.§§ Fortunately, as an inveterate shopper with two nephews, I had a good idea of where to find a stuffed eagle.

Bless you, Kazoo & Company.

I ran to a couple of yarn stores.¶¶

At 2:00, I was home, done with lunch and casting on.

Perhaps the next time I'm on a tight deadline, I'll remember that it's not the best time to try a new technique.

At 1:00 Saturday morning, I gave up my double-knitting project. It wasn't horrible. It was just in dire need of blocking,## and I knew there was no way I'd finish the scarf, soak it and have it completely dry before I had to take it to Lisa on Saturday afternoon.

So... I got up at 7:00 Saturday morning and started knitting a new - simpler - scarf for the eagle.

Ta-daaa!




When we got to the fundraiser at 7:00, there was a bid down on the scarf, which tickled the grits out of me, as I wasn't sure how it would represent in a bidding situation. Brother noted that he was up-bidding it because he decided he needed a scarf.†††

In the end, it turned out someone outbid Brother, so I'm feeling all HKIC and shit.%

When the Auction Committee sobers up and tells me who won the scarf, I'll let y'all know. Sounds like it could be fun.‡‡‡

Plus, I'd already told Brother he had the hook-up even if he didn't win the auction scarf.§§§

So, sing it with me: "STILL A KNITBLOG."


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "EdFest" in my world has a whole lot more Tom Cavanaugh in it, but that's OK.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Paraphrasing. Brother was more cognizant than that.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oddly enough, not on my part. The mis-, the dis- OR the drunk.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): As my college boyfriend always said, "Too late."

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm not tooting my own horn. It's not that I have ideas so brilliant as to be frightening. No, it's that the ideas that seem so brilliant pan out to be ironically, sarcastically so and it's frightening I continue to believe in my own brilliance.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Think of it... one tiny Star Wars action figure with a couple of tufts of blue and gold yarn...

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Which led to a funny moment at Fancy Tiger when a very sweet (possibly gay, probably artistic, undoubtedly oblivious to sports) boy asked if he could help and I told him I was looking for fingering- or sport-weight yarn in blue and gold, like Denver Nuggets colours. I could almost hear the panic shutting down his organs. He pointed out every skein of yarn in the right gauge, I suspect hoping I'd make up my own mind about what "Denver Nuggets colours" meant.

§§FOOTNOTE (double confusing): There is nothing quite like waking up on your day off knowing you have to find an eagle.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (double the fun): I found my yarn at the first store, but as my brother says, I have a problem. Plus, I have a very weird upcoming knitting project (foreshadowing!) I wanted to get a jump on. In a very researchy, I-probably-didn't-need-to-buy-six-sets-of-square-needles way.

##FOOTNOTE (double the pounds): AntiM's helpful knitting tip #237: Double-knitting pulls the knitted piece in (much like cabling does) and makes your very straight scarf look like an hourglass.

†††FOOTNOTE (is it Lent again already?): Because His Girl Cindy told him he should get a scarf to go with his new Hugo Boss cashmere jacket and he made grumpy faces and stuff. Then he went to NYC and saw that everybody was wearing a scarf and decided it wasn't a bad idea.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Head Knitta in Charge, in case you forgot.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (Frankenstein's blogster): Or a complete nightmare. But I'm an optimist. Or, as Cornel West said on Twitter, "But I'm not an optimist, that's too thin...I'm a prisoner of #hope."

§§§FOOTNOTE (three esses make a full circle, right?): When we discussed particulars, it boiled down to "a tweedy/heathered charcoal in a muffler length." Then I got an update from Colourmart (home of all things cashmere) Sunday mid-day that said they had a shipment of Hugo Boss cashmere just in. So even though Brother didn't win the scarf, Brother absolutely won a scarf. Here's the yarn; its colour is called "Derby":

Some NFL Teams Should be Pink*

I am NOT going to talk about what happened at the Broncos Raiders game last week.†

I will, however, make a brief‡ observation on the NFL.




Many of the teams that most need to be pink aren't.§

When all the snide and snark drains away, I still want this:




I have all kinds of good Nintendo stuff,¶ Liberace stuff,# mascara stuff†† and maybe even a bit of knitting stuff.‡‡

Really... stay tuned!§§


*FOOTNOTE (asterisked... no, seriously): That's "pink" as in "Victoria's Secret," not "Pink" as in "Get This Party Started."

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Brother texted me: "What the hell happened? I came in, it was 0-0, I put the groceries away, it was 14-0" While I was answering him, trying to find different ways to say "suck," they scored again. Dr. Doom opted for donuts at Safeway as a viable fun alternative to the game. OK, now I'm really not going to talk about it. And it truly takes a saint not to bitch about such a debacle.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Look how funny I am! I made a panty pun!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Detroit Lions, I'm looking at you.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Wii! (and in my head that's "wheeeee!" so it's another sort of pun, just doesn't translate well to print)

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Really.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Really.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Shock and awe!

§§FOOTNOTE (the mind boggles. Twice.): This blog is what RSS feed was MADE for.

Heady Stuff

How much more cooler can you get with a cupcake wrapper? None. None more cooler.

Because this cupcake wrapper goes to eleven.

Victoria's Secret?

The sultry little tramp knits.


Cableknit Sweater Corset


And here I'd always thought of her as more of a crochet girl.

Barbie Plastic

You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You'd think I was exaggerating or getting snarky or weird or something.

Barbie Plastic.

Just go look.

Then come back and tell me how much you want a Barbie Shoe Ring.

How a Knitter Thinks

"I could make that."


IRO Seger Sweater {via Polyvore}


I wonder how it would look in hot pink merino/cashmere...?

And I wonder how you knit those big-hole trilobites...?

I love a good research project.

Dear IRS...

Could this make mailing the tax check palatable?†


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Pun *totally* intended

Injury, Meet Insult

"I want to use a whole assortment† of four-letter words right now, doc," I said to the optometrist when he told me I NEED BIFOCALS.

I've worn glasses for years for three things:

1. Driving at night.
2. To see the names on the jerseys.‡
3. Movies.§

[SUMMARY: Keep your eye¶ on the important things.]

Apparently, I got old overnight. One day, I gauged where to hold my book by how comfortable my arms were, not where I could see. Because, you see, I could see. Everything. Just fine. Far or near.

Then, *bam!* one Tuesday,# I couldn't see the computer screen. And that night, I had to hold the book an inch from my nose.

So. Bifocals.

I reeled around the mirrored displays, blindly†† picking up one frame after the other, waving them in front of my face in a desultory manner, humming "Glory Days" and craving dinner at 4:30 for some reason.

[SUMMARY: No focus‡‡ at all.]

Old, feeble brains can't multi-task.§§ It seems I was... less than thorough in my search.

To those of you youngsters out there with all this wonder ahead of you, let me give you a little tip.




Don't forget to check the whole frame before you order.¶¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like a big, brightly-coloured Costco assortment.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): You know how it is with free agency and salary caps. Sometimes you don't know a soul at the beginning of the season.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): When I remembered them. It was always a proud day when I could say, "Oh, we can sit anywhere. I remembered my glasses."

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I worry that I have a form of Alzheimer's which has as its primary symptom uncontrollable punning.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Um... if I remember correctly.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Oh, no...

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Punzheimer's!

§§FOOTNOTE (*so* confused): And just remembering the words to Glory Days is multi-tasking in and of itself.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (*headbonk* *headbonk*): For those of you scoring at home, the random, ugly triangles are orange, purple and white. All I wanted was copper frames. I thought they'd go with my hair. I showed Hans and he didn't even try to make like it was OK. "Your hair almost completely covers the bad part," he said, helpfully.

BRILLIANT!

So I was checking out the list of vendors participating in the second annual free shipping day,† and one in particular lept out at me.‡

I could so be their spokesblogger.§


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Now that the holiday season goes Kay Jewelers Holiday Ad Kick-Off Day (Oct 15), Store Decoration Day (Oct 30), Chiropractor's Card Mailing Day (Nov 15), Black Thursday (formerly known as Thanksgiving), Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Free Shipping in Time for Christmas Day (Dec 17)... our advent calendars are going to have to be displayed in installments.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Practically grabbed me around the throat. Does anybody else get abnormally tickled to see their name? Or is it just us weird name folks?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): At *least* their patron saint.

Contest! Win a Fabulous Prize!

And this isn't like the time I tried to foist my ill-fitting socks on an unsuspecting public.

No, this is a REAL prize. Hand-picked† by yours truly via the good graces of AllModern.com.

Jamie at All Modern contacted me and asked if I'd like to check out their merchandise and maybe pick out a couple of little items to give away here at the Rickety Blog.

Jamie says they love that I'm "Honest, up front and blunt."‡

[SUMMARY: And I quote.]

Is it bad that makes me chuckle just a little evilly?

Anyway, I dutifully went to peruse the websites and spent a fair chunk of free time mentally re-decorating my home.^ There's SO much I liked,% so I'm just going to share that one thing that captured my imagination more than any other:



The whole Vitra store speaks to the sleek, modern side of me.§ And the Ronan & Erwan Bouroullec Collection is like the next logical evolution of Frank Lloyd Wright.

Plus, y'know, it's like LEGOs for grown-ups.¶

You can take thos widgets above and hook them together to make screens like this:




Or maybe like this...




Or maybe in a sleek, skeletal Christmas tree, which can then be covered in tiny knitted sweaters and traveling lights with a blinking, musical angel on top.#

Class through kitsch is one of my favourite emotions.††

[SUMMARY: The self-aware cop to kitsch first.]

So now maybe you're wondering what I have for you, oh my imaginary friends.‡‡

One lucky winner, residing in the US or Canada,§§ will receive these oddly useful things.

The first, a luxury pet dish with a warming function.¶¶ Simply put hot water in the reservoir in the bottom and your Fluffy or Fido can enjoy a home-warmed meal.

Plus, y'know, cute animal print.##




And the other part of our prize package is this sleek, unobtrusive magazine rack. You can put it on the floor, on a side table... and don't even *try* to tell me you don't have a couple dozen knitting/quilting/cooking††† magazines strewn about your living room that could use a little wrangling.




Plus, y'know... shiny.

So here are the rules:

[SUMMARY: There are always rules.]

1) Comment on this post for entry -- BE SURE TO ENTER YOUR EMAIL. If I can't find you, it's going to be hard to shower you with gifts.

2) One entry per person, except in the case where you drive my readership through the roof by mentioning this on your blog or sending other people to me.‡‡‡

SO...

3) You can earn an extra entry by posting a link to this post and putting a link to that link in the comments on this post.§§§

OR...

4) You can earn an extra entry for each person who comments and says you sent them.

A winner will be drawn randomly@ on Wednesday, November 11.¶¶¶

What are you waiting for? Don't you want your kitty to have warm kibble?###


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Srsly. That wee tiny OCD flap in my brain agonised for ages over the perfect, oddly useful goods. I figure everybody can use a nice magazine rack and most of y'all have a pet or two -- or know somebody who does and might appreciate a luxury pet dish. As I mention later in these footnotes, Christmas is right around the corner.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Perhaps they caught my delicate snort at the Neiman Marcus Christmas book bargain offerings.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): And mentally knocking down the neighbour's walls so I have room for all the couches and chairs I want.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): They have pet stuff and kid stuff (ask me how much I love the chalkboard dots) and modern bedding (ask me how much I love the Missoni collection) and accessories and... well, there was a lot to re-decorate with. Is redecorate hyphenated?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which is locked in a lifelong death struggle with the cute animals and things-that-sing-and-light-up-and-are-possibly-covered-in-skulls side of me.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): There would never be a better segueway than this one, so I must take this tangent: remember the Frank Lloyd Wright LEGO sets I was lusting after? The first two are released! Just in time for Christmas! OK, one was released in May, but still.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): You can take the girl out of the trailer park...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): All due respect to Truvy Jones.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Even IRL friends can play!

§§FOOTNOTE (smug and twisty): Sorry, Ally. If you wanted to play with the cool kids, you shoulda stayed on the continent. See? "Expatriate" doesn't sound so glamourous now, does it?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two thumbs sideways!): I'm not making this up.

##FOOTNOTE (zebra crossing): Also available in zebra print!

†††FOOTNOTE (three more crosses to bear): ...fishing/watch-collecting/nudie...

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (how did I get off track?): *snort* I suspect if I were that worried about readership, I would've stopped posting pictures of zombie chickens a long time ago. Hey, Jamie at All Modern was nice enough to say nice things about my rickety little corner of the Innernets, so I'd like to give them as much exposure as possible. It doesn't hurt that they have wonderful things like LEGOs for grown-ups and chalkboard dots either.

§§§FOOTNOTE (triple spin zoom meta!): Oh, baby, that's not just meta... that's meta in the mirror.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Hans will probably be involved.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (three-gun salute to Mom): To commemorate Mom's second birthday; Dad thought it was the 11th the first year they were married, and Mom was in sniffly, silent martyr mode from the 7th -- her actual birthday -- until the 11th when he threw her a surprise party. As punishment, she made us all celebrate on the 7th and the 11th ever after.

###FOOTNOTE (pound pound pound kitty with entitlement issues): Please don't tell Quill (a/k/a Cat for Scale) about this. If he knows there's potential for hot meals, I'll never hear the end of it.

The Neiman Marcus Chistmas Book is Out

And I quote:

Four Lollipops and Handle Set: We've got a plan for our pops —an ingeniously delicious plan. Take our 6.25"L crystal-encrusted handle with signature logo butterfly charm (it's the must-have accessory), attach a delicious (edible) lollipop head, then enjoy! In between licks, the protective bubble cover keeps the lint off your lolly. Our exclusive set includes metal handle, clear cover, and four edible pops to charm kids 10 years and older. Flavors include Blue Raspberry, Watermelon, Green Apple, and Cream Orange. Made in the USA.

NM Exclusive
Four Lollipops and Handle Set
Price: $50.00

[SUMMARY: Money, sense and the vague relationship† between the two.]


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Do you suppose it's telling I originally typed "relationshop"?

Wherefore Art Thou, Cuisinart?

Herefore art I!†

UPDATE: In response to my‡ inquiry, Williams-Sonoma contacted me yesterday to let me know the food processor of my dreams§ is now available for mail order.

As it will not be in stores for at least a week, and then only in limited quantities, I shelled out the extra $30 to have it delivered to my doorstep.

[SUMMARY: Obsession can be an expensive thing.]

It will be home tomorrow.

You're welcome.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I think I'm funny.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): ...somewhat stressy, breathe-in-a-bag-style...

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Though not the one where I save the world by teaching Vladmir Putin to dance.

Want

Can't have.

Going mad.

Your Gypsy Rover

Tomorrow begins Lake 2009.

I'll be hitting the road with my trusty iPod and the Cutest Little Car in the Whole Wide World to keep me company.

I was gratified to see that my little car is in the top five Most Fun to Drive† While Still Being Fuel-Efficient‡ list from Car and Driver.§

*************

Guilt-Free Fun
by Jared Holstein





2009 Mini Cooper S

26 mpg city/34 mpg highway¶

It’s a real shame the Mini Cooper ownership experience has been ruined by the population of tattooed art-school dropouts who wear skinny jeans and ironic eyeglasses and have claimed it as their own. Lured into dealerships by espresso, wi-fi, and conformity, they leave in numbers driving a fine machine that in turbocharged S form# is just about the most ace combination of fun and fuel efficient that trust funds can buy.

Fear not, enthusiast: Roll down your windows to prove that your upper lip bears no thin mustache and you aren’t listening to electro, and pour yourself into the nearest set of mountains. A fantastic chassis, a six-speed transmission, and 192 pound-feet of torque will help you dispatch stacked hairpins with confidence; it’s this car’s poise that helped it best such machines as the Mazda Miata and Volkswagen GTI on our Lightning Lap. You can also be confident you won’t need to stop for gas on the way home, that you’ll be able to fit in a parking spot once you get there, and that cops will be too busy busting hipster-helmed Minis for coke possession to notice your imprudent velocity.

*************

More later, but for now, join me in basking in the reflected glory.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Duh.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): They don't know the half of it. See ¶, below.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As reported by Comcast.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Mine actually gets 44 mpg on the highway, possibly because...

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): ...mine is not turbocharged, but supercharged. In practical terms, this means the new Mini S can take hills faster, but mine will blow it off a light. And, apparently, I get an extra 130 miles per tank when I take a road trip.

Who's Your Favourite Gilmore Girl?†

When I was three, I decided I wanted a dog.

Mom and I got books from the library and walked the neighbour's dog and earnestly discussed the responsibilities of having a pet. When Mom felt I had a grasp on the enormity of the situation, we started looking for a puppy.‡

She took me hither and yon, all over the greater Traverse City metro are looking at puppies. I'd give a perfunctory look and go play with rocks. Mom was beginning to think I didn't really want a dog after all.

Until one gloomy Michigan autumn afternoon when I met Pardner.§ The woman with the herd of puppies brought Pardner out and I picked her up and walked to the car with her. Mom whispered, "Save this one for Christmas," over my howls and tears as she extracted the squirming pup from my frantic, tantrum tempered arms.

[SUMMARY: I know it when I see it.]

In 1993, I decided I wanted a hedgehog. I'd read about them. They seemed unusual, cute and apartment-friendly. So I checked out hedgehogs. They bored me and made me a little nervous and I was beginning to think I didn't really want a hedgehog after all.

Then one day at the mall, we stopped in to look at the hedgehogs at Pet City and I saw a tiny chocolate chip nose pressed against the glass of one cage.

"Can we take this one out for a few minutes?" I asked.

I sat on the floor and the Pet City drone put her on the floor in front of me. As she unrolled from her hedgehog defensive position, a crowd gathered. Frightened, she scampered¶ over to me and climbed in my lap.

"She's mine. I'm taking her home." So Hooter the hedgehog came to live with me.

[SUMMARY: The heart wants what it wants.]

A year after Hooter died, Brother offered to get me a cat for my birthday.

"I don't even like cats."

"You don't like cats because you've never had a cat."

Finally, in September,# I decided I was ready to hit the Denver Dumb Friends League and find a cat or two.

Brother and I went to two different shelters numerous times. There were what I'm sure were some lovely cats, but it was all rather ho-hum. Brother was beginning to think I didn't really want a cat after all.

Then one day, I dropped in to the main branch of the DDFL and there they were, Lucy and Quill.††

"Can I meet those two?"

[SUMMARY: A pattern is emerging.]

Well, after I posted the pictures of my black 50s-replica purse, Nathan% thought I might like to join the rest of y'all in the 21st century. He asked astute questions about what I was looking for, offered some options with an eye to my reaction and began helping me look for a new purse.

Amid a flurry of, "I don't really like totes or hobos... Ooooh! Look at this gorgeous hobo I found at Nordstrom... and I'd totally carry this tote. Look at the colour!"‡‡ he sent numerous links to lovely bags of all shapes and sizes, and I'd say, "I like the shape, but what do we think of the colour?"

I suspect Nathan was beginning to think I didn't really want a new handbag after all.

Then he sent me the Kooba link.

"Yes! That's it! It's perfect!"

Meet Rory.




I ordered it Wednesday afternoon. It showed up Saturday.§§ I made loud, neighbour-disturbing girl noises and took pictures just before the storm hit.

It's ever-so-slightly wider and taller than my black one, and a couple of inches deeper. The purple-red-pink colour¶¶ is unusual enough to keep me interested, but rich enough to be wearable year-round.

The leather is soft and snuggleable and the lining is a heavy, heavy satin I rubbed between my fingers for comfort when it was thundering.

Look at the hardware!




And the detail!




And the colour!




And the texture!




And there are *pockets* inside!##




And my bag has its own bag,††† made of the same heavy satin as the lining.

ETA: Hans just said the lining is like the inside of a Miami strip club.




Yesterday evening, you could find me cuddled up with my Kooba. It was heartwarming.‡‡‡

One little problem: my cell phone now clashes with my purse.




I may have to go 3G earlier than expected.§§§


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Yeah, me too, but the purse is named Rory, not Lorelai. It's funny... I had a Gilmore Girls dream last night in which Lorelai commissioned Kirk to make a miniature copy of The Last Supper for Rory's dollhouse, only Kirk painted all the attendees from the back because he hadn't ever gotten the hang of noses. Also? He put them all in navy pinstripes. Flowing robes, but navy pinstriped flowing robes. So Lorelai was yelling at Kirk outside of Doose's Market and Taylor thought it would be a marvelous opportunity for a Stars Hollow festival and tried to rally the whole town into making Last Suppers for Rory. Meanwhile, Luke was quietly carving a magnificent Last Supper frieze under the guise of working on his boat in Lorelai's shed and Rory caught him and was enchanted and they bonded and he let her paint Judas's hair red. In the last scene, Taylor was at the Last Supper Festival with only a troop of Girl Scouts who had made Last Suppers out of macaroni.

I totally could've written for that show.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): The parents agreed on female, smallish, short-haired, mutt. Pardner turned out to be long-haired, of the type that picks up twigs and leaves. Three out of four ain't bad.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As in, "Howdy, pardner!" Named her myself. I was three -- give me a break.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Well, a kind of a quick waddle. Hedgehogs have *very* short legs.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): After I had purchased several books and thoroughly researched the issue through a series of Internet searches and interviews. I have a problem.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Who, besides being my new best friend, is also my fairy godfather. I am utterly convinced I never would have found Rory without Nathan, and would have settled for a purse that was mostly good.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Or Garth and Axl as they were named at the time. It's terrible, the indignities some people impose on their pets.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): A fairy godfather of infinite patience. Rumour has it he banged his head against the wall more than once, yet he soldiered on.

§§FOOTNOTE (some days I get turned around): After telling Nathan I had serious buyer's remorse, because what ding dong orders the perfect bag, then clicks, "Yes, please send this to me by the slowest means you offer"?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (mulberries!): Mulberry!

##FOOTNOTE (they look like zippers): You might be surprised how many bags either have no pockets, only have one zippered pocket or don't mention pockets at all like they aren't important.

†††FOOTNOTE (studs and zipper pulls): You might also be surprised -- I was -- how many luxury accessories come with their own luggage. My Cole Haan shoes have their own flannel sleeping bags.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (no, THOSE look like zippers): A Girl and Her Kooba. Kooba Come Home. My Friend Kooba.

§§§FOOTNOTE (just one thing after the other): Which will delight Shanny to no end, I'm sure.

They're Playing Our Song

From the Christian Laboutin FW09 ad campaign:


{Christian Laboutin via Yatzer - photo © Peter Lippmann}


Laboutin with a SKULL.

Pinch me, I'm dreaming.

[SUMMARY: Yay, Laboutin!]

Then go check out the pictures at Yatzer. Gorgeous stuff.

[SUMMARY: Yay, Yatzer!]

ibid

...I NEED this.




From ThinkGeek, the people who brought you† the Bone Chillers skull and crossbone ice tray, comes the Crawling Zombie Torso Gelatin Mold.

How much do you want to make Zombie-shaped JellO shots right now?‡

*************

No. 1: Urban Tropicalia - Alexandre Herchcovitch & Joachim Correll for Six Scents

The backstory: Six Scents: Series One@ is a collection of six fragrances featuring collaborations between perfumers and fashion designers. An undisclosed portion of the proceeds will go to Designers Against AIDS (DAA) International AIDS Awareness Education Center in Antwerp, originally scheduled to open in December of 2008, but re-set for some time in 2009.

I have procured dollops of all six scents%... do you sense a theme emerging?^

Marin says: Sharp, bitter orange or maybe lime, then it morphs into pine, with a dry something behind it -- like a cedar branch, needles and all. A whiff of lemon lolls in the middle of it, surprisingly similar to the pine.§

There's a definite strata of fresh, white flowers solidly behind, and I would swear I'm getting fig or currant or some other dark, elusive fruit.

As the brighter notes fade off -- and they don't really fade so much as mellow -- a warmer, rounder something flirts with the composition. The floral starts looking like a spicy carnation,¶ just warming from the florist's fridge,# pine still singing in the chorus.

Now, I don't exactly smell amber, sandalwood or musk, but there's definitely something from that classic family. Apparently nothing too loud. Through it all, that cedary dryness just reining it in and making it a bit mysterious.

I think this is a very well-crafted perfume, cohesive, slightly unusual and mischeviously elegant. I like it.

Six Scents says: "The inspiration for this fragrance was driven by the way that Alexandre creates fashion. The creative liberty he uses to design fashion which can be used equally by men or women. This fragrance can be worn at any time, for any occasion, as a form of self expression, to be daring, or simply for the pure pleasure of wearing a fragrance. The Alexandre Herchcovitch scent evokes freedom ad sensuality, and similar to his fashion, the perfume is striking, emblematic and tanscends categories." - Joachim Correll, Perfumer

Ingredients: Erogenous†† Cedar wood$ - Amber Fond,‡‡ Lemon,$ Cassis De Bourgeons,$ Lime,$ Green, [sic] Apple,§§ Apricot, Jasmine, Tagete, Freesia, Cinnamon, Musk.$

Hans says: Tree sappy.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Well, brought me in any case. Left it right on my doorstep.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I am looking at you, Lyda Kay.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Presumably, they are planning on a Series Two.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Due in no small measure to the (continuing) bad influence of one Nathan Branch.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): We're all about the themes here at the Rickety Blog.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Juno dropped some fine science on me the other day proving lemon and pine have more in common than household cleaners, but if I had the energy to go dig that up, I'd have the energy to write a real post.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): For those of you who don't troll the perfume blogs, carnation IS spicy. It's kinda like freesia or some other distinct white flower with a touch of clove and maybe a hint of cinnamon. Next time you're going past the 12-for-$2.99 bucket in the supermarket floral department, stop, close your eyes and give the carnations a good, deep, thoughtful sniff. Nobody will point and laugh.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I believe I've already relayed this olfactory trigger, but my sophomore year in college, my mom sent me a giant Christmas floral arrangement that had roses, carnatios and pine boughs. That's exactly where I get stuck with anything that has both pine and flowers.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Which has to do with erosion rather than sex. I know. I learned about erogenous sinclines during a roadside geology lesson with my dad and have never quite forgiven the geologic world for that not being even half as lustful as it sounds.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I don't know. Google doesn't know. Google thinks "amber fond" is an agony aunt or maybe a 21-year-old in Fond du Lac. Google thinks perhaps I meant to say "amber found." That's the second time in a week Google has been no use to me at all.

§§FOOTNOTE (double sniff - like a double take, only with your nose): Ahhhh. This is why I try really hard to never look at the notes or the perfumers hype before I do my review. I would have TOTALLY gotten green apple (or green, apple) through the power of suggestion. Funny how much lemon and pine smells like green apple. Srsly.

I Don't WANT This...

...I NEED this.


{Announcement by The Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation and LEGO via Yatzer}

Not available yet...

Eyes twitching...

Fingers clutching...

Must have...

Stupid Sparkly Sweeheart Fraud

There are moments when I come out of the static and fog and a moment of lucidity will lead me to say to myself, "Self,† perhaps you are taking this a bit too far."

Such was the case the day a couple of weeks ago when I went to my mailbox and found a package I couldn't identify. Where had it come from? Was it a present? As I inventoried my online purchases and expected deliveries, I got nothing.

The return address meant nothing.@

I shook it and it didn't sound like yarn, perfume or tomato planters.%

Finally, I opened it.

[SUMMARY: Your dear ol' AntiM can be a little slow.]

Sweethearts. Special, limited edition, stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearts.

Srsly.

Lucky for me, I got my series of three collectible boxes of special, limited edition, stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearts PLUS an additional box of special, limited edition, stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearts to deconstruct for blog purposes while still maintaining the collectible resale value‡ of the full set of special, limited edition, stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearts.

So box one features stupid sparkly Edward and his lamb,§ along with the whole vampire tribe and some dramatic lighting.




The back of the box not only maps out the special, limited edition flavours¶...




...it has some Twilight Fun Facts for your dining entertainment.

[SUMMARY: It's like a festival of stupid sparkly.]




One might think from the box that:

1. There are three in a series.
2. There is something to scratch and sniff.
3. Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
4. There are special, limited edition, stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearts that actually sparkle.

For those of you scoring at home:

1. True.
2. Sort of.#
3. Debatable.††
4. Filthy liars.

p.s. -- Karen knows EXACTLY what I'm talking about here.

[SUMMARY: Disappointment runs rampant.]




I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I was actually kind of jazzed about special, limited edition stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearths that actually sparkle.

Not only are there no special, limited edition stupid sparkly vampire conversation hearths that actually sparkle, check out the shoddy workmanship on the standard, chalky non-sparkly conversation hearts:




More often than not the words trail off the side, bleed off the top or were apparently left behind on the conveyor belt on which they were decorated.

[SUMMARY: Quality Control at the New England Candy Company must be on vacation.]

Now, what in the hell am I going to do with three unopened boxes of substandard sparkly stupidity?

And how much do you suppose I paid for it?






†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I always call myself "Self."

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I would be remiss (almost was) if I didn't mention that the Amazon seller's name was "Robert Pattison's Mom." And least I *hope* it was her Amazon seller's name and not a thinly-veiled cry for help.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Pretty much the scope of my home delivery world. Except the occasional present from Nintendo, and you know I do the same thing with those boxes.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): What other possible reason could I have had for buying something repugnant just because, apparently, it was numbered and limited edition?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I'm proud to say I no longer remember her name. I'm ashamed to admit I remember his. He's probably more my type.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): The passionfruit is actually quite tasty.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): It looked different from the rest of the box, it felt different from the rest of the box, but when I rubbed it (and later scratched the bejebus out of it), it didn't smell different from the rest of the box.

NOTE: For those of you who checked in earlier, I somehow left the last footnote off the original post. Perhaps my brain was trying to save me the embarrassment of admitting how base my thought process really is.

††FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): For some reason the taste of forbidden fruit ramble finished out in my head with, "...if you blow a married man." You don't find a lot of saints with brains as lascivious as mine.

Kissable

1957 Ferrari 250 Testa Rossa to be auctioned by Sotheby's.




{RM Auctions via Yatzer}

Isn't that the curviest, most lickable little car you ever did see?

It looks positively knittable.

It looks friendly like a muppet, but wicked like a spider.

It looks like something Zaphod Beeblebrox stole.†

Y'all know I have a birthday coming up, right?


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Letting my geek flag fly.