Heady Stuff

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

Because this cupcake wrapper goes to eleven.

Riding the Coattails

It's kinda hot and I'm doing the blog equivalent of sprawling on a hammock and letting someone fan me with palm fronds.

Look what Donna found.

And, y'know... she's a hell of a hammock fanner.

Fireworks!

Actually, I'm irritated in an old geezer you-kids-get-off-my-lawn way about blown-up-in-my-backyard fireworks right now.†

Huh. I've already digressed and I haven't even started talking yet.‡

There are three great things I saw this weekend that I wish to share, plus a bonus of two happy things that happened:

1. I landed home Saturday afternoon and flipped on the TiVi.§ There was a baseball game right in front of me, which I was just about to turn off, when I noticed the player up to bat was Angel Pagan.¶ I wish I could have kids so I could name one of them Angel Pagan.
2. Driving to Jerusalem Restaurant for a very patriotic Third of July dinner, I passed the giant convent/Catholic convalescence home in the 'hood. There was a Barbie-pink scooter waiting at the giant gate to make a left onto 29th. "Wish I had a camera," I thought. "This would be a great blog bit." Then the scooter pulled in behind me and it was a bearded guy in aviator sunglasses and that made it all the better.
3. On the same drive, I was at a red light and across from me were two of the whitest, yuppiest, Chanel sunglass-wearing, designer polo shirt-clad 30-something dinks# ever seen, playing a vuvuzela and waving a South African flag out of the sunroof on their BMW. I'm not saying they *couldn't* be South African, but if they are, they're on the wrong side of the popular political tracks and maybe shouldn't be displaying the equivalent of one of us wearing a loin cloth and a feathered headdress and doing the Tomahawk Chop out of the windows of our BMWs.

Then I got to Jerusalem and the ever-so-adorable chicklet who took my order asked what my shirt meant.

"Rock-paper-scissors... lizard-spock," I replied to a peal of delighted laughter.

Then she cooed and exclaimed over my emergency wallet.††

It was a good day.

And that was a totally elegant segue into a package% from my not-so-secret-pal Jo.‡‡ Because my emergency wallet looks like this:




And Jo, not knowing a thing about my emergency wallet,§§ sent me this soap:




Which was an adjunct to that month's subject prize, the washcloth¶¶:




And came with a bonus soap dish:




And totally bath-related pirate cupcake set##:




So thank you, Jo, both for your patience and for the lovely gifts.

Give me another two months and I should be caught up.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): But real fireworks, performed by professionals, are one of my favourite things.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): That may be a record. Lyda's going to be so proud when she sees.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As one does.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I took Spanish, so I know it's pronounced "ON-hell pa-GONE," but he'll always be Angel Pagan to me. Plus? If you Google "Angel Pagan" (even without the quotation marks), you don't get a single religious reference for pages.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And I mean both in terms of "Jebus Cats, what a couple of dinks" and "Double Income No Kids."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The wallet that goes in my pocket in which I keep my driver's license, debit card and a small chunk of cash to hold me over when I leave my purse somewhere three times out of ten. Usually home, mind you, but one should have the necessities with one. If that one has juvenile onset Alzheimer's like this one does.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): I'm smooth like peanut butter. Note how I not only tied it all together with the Cute as Hell theme, I managed to not let on that this package arrived two months ago and I'm just getting to it now.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Who just revealed herself to me per the terms of our year-long swap agreement, in which I was totally wishy-washy and said, "Oh, let's be secret for six months, then not-secret for six months." I am fair, if indecisive.

§§FOOTNOTE (sssupposedly): I think.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two heads better than one): Which was hard to photograph adequately, but does, indeed, have a black skull motif rampant on a black background.

##FOOTNOTE (that's the symbol for shock): Why? Where do you eat your cupcakes?

I am a Grateful Show-Off

LOOK! This is the last batch of stuff before I hid my camera cable from myself.

I love it! My swap pal is the BEST! She's so awfully clever - just look at the knitting pirates.

There's more! I've received a full complement of spiffy stuff from Swap Pal.

More will come, but until then, oooh and aaah at the pretty, pretty bounty.

Still-secret Swap Pal, I am truly grateful despite my callous ways.

















And this! Because The Moo loves me, she has contributed to my collection of Stupid Sparkly Sweethearts!

I'm going for eBay glory one of these days...




And a SKULL bag. For the grocery store. So the crunchy granola kids who check me out at Sunflower Market can tell me how rad I am.




Yep. Those are my friends: giving me the illusion of radosity for nearly 43 years now.

Knitting Excitement!

Of course,† not for what I'm knitting right now, today, which is a baby blanket that isn't really tripping my trigger.‡ Miles and miles§ of superwash garter stitch... great for the Olympics, not so tantalising for my cashmere-cloaked, circus-knitting soul.

And I have marvelous yarn from Carol Jean¶ - 50/50 wool/alpaca, light green subtly dappled with grey-blue. And a wonderful natural Araucania wool alpaca grey twist. But I don't know what to make with either, so I fondle them nightly and continue kniting miles of garter stitch.

I finished the infamous# Later Gator Sweater,†† but, y'know... camera... upload... we'll get there.

I also knitted lumps of coal for the Family Christmas Party, but I took no pictures, so I don't even have the "too lazy to upload" excuse.

[SUMMARY: Why bother talking about knitting?]

Despite all this waffling, there is some upcoming knitting about which I'm very excited.

Excited to the point of frantic.‡‡

I will be knitting - *whisper* - for myself.

[SUMMARY: That's why.§§]

Sweater.

Then possibly sweaters.

[SUMMARY: I'm not committing to any long-term contract here.]

I plan to knit this sweater%:


Basic Black Cardigan by Glenna C.

Using these needles¶¶:


Kollage Square Circular

In at *least* the green## of this yarn:


Colourmart 2/6NM dk wt 5/95 cashmere/merino bulky wool in pistacho,††† fuscia and azul mel

Finishing with these buttons@ on the respective colours‡‡‡.


from As Cute as a Button

[SUMMARY: A plan! I have a *plan*!]

The yarn should arrive any day. Until then, I sit at my post box§§§...

*open open open*


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "Of course," because the alpaca is always fluffier on the other side of the fence.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Though I have dubbed it the Gay Pride Baby Blanket, so at least it has that going for it.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And even less thrilled now that I've left my state of denial and realised what I've knit so far is the right width for a bookmark and, at this rate, the blanket will be 16" x 12".

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Yes, we are on a first-name basis. When she's not looking.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Possibly only among the immediate family. Mostly with Dr. Doom, who has been dying for the sweater since he didn't get it on Christmas.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): So named because it was a very, very late Christmas present. And because it is in the shape of an alligator.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Because it has to come through my post office.

§§FOOTNOTE (here's where I turn on you): So there.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): My decision to knit this sweater has NOTHING to do with the fact that Glenna and I have roughly the same hair.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (let me beat this into you): OMG OMG OMG! I *love* these needles! They're comfy and pretty and the cable is OMG soft as chiffon and it doesn't kink or coil and they warm in your hands like wood and they're just a little grippy without being sticky and OMG did I mention copper and size printed right on the needle and OMG!

##FOOTNOTE (#Cassandra #Juno): A hard-won green, found at last by Cassandra who, while she didn't push me to buy three colours of yarn, did point me to the blue and thoroughly enjoyed shopping with my money.

†††FOOTNOTE (knitting cross - coming soon to an Olympic competition near you): [sic] Apparently, that's how you say "pistachio" and "fuschia" in Spanish.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): It won't surprise you to know I did a search for skull buttons in specific. I looked at every single button on the ACAAB website and kept stopping at this cord lock because it looks so much like a friendly, Hello Kitty-esque skull:




‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (sew buttons): OK, maybe I'll switch the skulls and the pink glass. It's better to be wishy-washy in the footnotes and sound like you know what you're talking about in the blogpost proper. You might also notice I switched from "at least this one colour" to "I have buttons for all the colours." I'm sneaky that way.

§§§FOOTNOTE (boo*hisss*): Which mocks me with its tardy, black, yarnless emptiness.

Aaaaand...

...that's as far as I got Tuesday.

Shiny† new speedy computer and psychofast N+ wireless router‡ that arrived at Chez Barfly last night§ should help this absence thing.

Meanwhile, a little news: Kidrobot, a NY toy company that went viral¶ and exploded into a designer toy company with its own line of clothing, is moving to Boulder.

I know that may not tickle you so much now,# but just look!


Sleepy Bear Titus from the kidrobot website

Man-eating skull bear with a spork!


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Stainless steel finish. Which I partly got because it's shiny and partly because, for some stupid reason, the stainless one has an extra year of warranty for an extra $40, so it seemed the economic choice as well as the aesthetic one.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I have about zero idea what that means in practical terms -- mostly it's new, fast and shiny, and that's what life's all about.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Don't get me started on the shipping clusterfuck that happened with that... suffice to say that a truly frustrating and horrible, hungry day ended with me sitting with the fastest wireless router known to man purring contentedly on a shiny new supercompter next to Vol 1 of The Complete Calvin & Hobbes while the BCS National Championship game played. I probably cashed in a ton of kharma points for that last hour of the day.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm probably not using that right. Like "hot mess," I have my version, the cool kids have theirs.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Hey! It's AntiM! Give it a minute and you WILL BE TICKLED.

Designer Death Match

My favourite cradle of aesthetics, Yatzer, is having a Composition Fight between two rugs.

What do you think?

While I like the linear quality and Asian look the letters give the bottom rug, and the stronger black seems more dramatic, the top rug has skull'n'crossboneses.† And probably a pig.

Pigs and skulls win every time.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Plurals of plurals are the bane of my existence.

Speaking of...

...knowing way more about Marin than you need to know.†

I was bragging on Facebook Tuesday about how I remembered my purse that day.‡ This stemmed from the fact that I left my purse at home on Monday and had to go home and get it before I could drive back in the opposite direction for dinner with Dad.

This is not as rare an occurrence as I'd like. I'm a creature of habit. If the purse isn't in the car,§ there's a good chance I won't notice it's not with me until I get where I'm going and I have no money, no credit, no gum and no way to call anybody and bemoan the fact.

[SUMMARY: I am that dork.]

Nathan, my new best friend,¶ expressed a curiosity about said purse. Bless the boy, he didn't ask, "How could you possibly leave your purse at home, you scary-dumb bunny?"

To be exact, he said, "I'm suddenly curious as to the exact purse that a Marin in the wild would carry . . . *shhhh, you'll startle it and it will spill its coffee*"

[SUMMARY: Nathan is *funny.*]

I promised Nathan I would post pictures of my purse.

In the wild#:




Artsy, moody, depth of field -- and red stitching!




The classic frame.††




Inside, my skull wallet with the brown satin skull lining.‡‡






And the standard assortment of receipts,§§ discount card for The Recycled Lamb, gum, DumDums from the bank,¶¶ loose change, Fox News and Cheyenne Frontier Days lapel pins,## lotion samples and cell phone.




The small front pocket is reserved for perfume samples, mints from Randolph's and buttons.†††

[SUMMARY: This is where the magic happens.]




I do have other purses. Several. Many.‡‡‡ But this is the one I carry most and this is the one I left behind, which prompted the Facebook note which prompted the curiosity which prompted the promise which prompted the pictures which prompted the blogpost which prompted this children's song of an explanation.

[SUMMARY: The whole last paragraph was a summary.]

Tomorrow: my keys.§§§


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I was speaking of that, in any case.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): As Jeffe said, astutely, "Baby steps."

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I can't tell if an attached garage is the best thing that ever happened to me or the worst thing that ever happened to my brain.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It's not just because of the Rose Chypre, either. No, it's the Amber Fetiche and the Samurai and the Sweet Smoke and all the other pretty things.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): The purse, not the Marin.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Fashion-wise. I was talking about the purse, rather than the foliage frame around it.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Which is becoming battered and loose so all the cards slide out of it when I turn it upside down. Sadly, I may have to look for another wallet soon.

§§FOOTNOTE (like a Dyson vacuum): I actually removed all the receipts. They were messy and I wanted to dress the shot properly.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (talking heads): Which I always pick up two at a time with the idea that someday I'll be somewhere with my nephews and will magically produce candy from my purse and be the BEST AUNT EVER.

##FOOTNOTE (Brit Hume, pounding in your ears): From Shanny. Because Shanny cares.

†††FOOTNOTE (bobbins): Why? Where do you keep your buttons?

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (fine stitching): Funny because up until 2002, I didn't carry a purse. I just shoved stuff in my pockets. I blame the rainbow of purses in my closet on eBeth.

§§§FOOTNOTE (things are taking a turn): If you think I'm joking, you haven't been paying attention.

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!]

Colour Me Random

When last I cleaned off my camera, I had an unusually large collection of random shit.† Enough to make a whole blogpost. Enough, even, to proclaim a photojournalistic pig-licking.

[SUMMARY: My pig, my rules.]

NOTE: Click for big is your friend here in today's offering.

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

Jack 'n' Grill on Federal has marvelous food. They also have the new‡ Wall of Jack§ and these Marin-friendly bathroom signs:



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

Dad has cleaned out the tool annex¶ in the Peach's basement. There is a bank of very cool drawers, reminiscent of the days when libraries had card files.# One is now labeled, "Trowels, etc."



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

Hans spotted this outfit from my window. We spent many, many company-sposored minutes trying to figure out what in the hell she was thinking††:



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

This guy was working in our parking lot. He measured something. Then he sawed the end off that something. Then he made some notes. Then he put something else on his wheeled sawhorse and measured it. Then he cleaned up and left. I kinda wish I'd gotten a movie of it.

I'm guessing that at $8/day, this is the cheapest shop space in town.



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

"Yellow squeeze bottle mustard" listed as an organic ingredient. So... specific:



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

Before my break-up with Barnes & Noble,‡‡ I was perusing the knitting books at lunch one day and noted a new trend in the fibre arts§§:



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

Two days snowed in, you'd think I'd be more ambitious.

[SUMMARY: Thinking never did anybody any good.]

Tomorrow? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps¶¶...

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

Péché Cardinal - Amandine Marie for Parfums MDCI

Marin says: There is a moment when the juice first hits the skin when you@ usually get a completely different scent than you do even two seconds later. It's like the ghostly haze that hovers in the neck of a beer bottle right after you open it## -- there, then gone.

This one is pure Jolly Rancher in that moment: sugary, synthetic, recognisable for its candy version but nothing like the real thing.

You blink and it's different.

Then it's peach, bright and sun-drenched... then mixed with champagne, perhaps. It's bubbly and bright. After a bit, it smells like tuberose and peach with a touch of that tawny port smell I call raisin, but always ends up being plum.

Somewhere along the line, something very round, like amber, and something prickly and dry, like cedar, rein the tuberose in a bit and give it round depths and linear highs.†††

Luckyscent% says: Péché Cardinal is an enticing froth of sinful and sweet, blending luscious fruits and mesmerizingly heady white flowers into a siren song. Warm, rounded and alluring, this Bellini-esque$ scent opens with a juicy, light-hearted sweetness that belies its intoxicating nature. As it warms on the skin, it becomes boldly flirtatious— this is the perfect scent for the belle of the ball. Péché Cardinal (translation: Cardinal Sin‡‡‡) opens with the apricot-hay sweetness of davana combined with the silken fur of ripe golden peaches$ and creamy coconut. The tart fruitiness of blackcurrant and prune$ keep the fragrance from becoming too sweet, allowing the cool, fresh-from-the-flowershop tuberose$ to shine from the heart of the composition. White lilies add an additional, slightly green aspect to the scent. The cedar,$ sandalwood and musc provide a quiet contrapunto§§§ to the fruits. An unabashedly romantic fragrance for those daring enough to wear it

Hans says: Bubble gum. Do you get bubble gum? Definitely something sweet. I don't know. Tell them my nose muscles are tired.¶¶¶

Later, after that syrupy opening, Hans identified fruit, something he should know, and got very excited when I told him it was peach because that was what he was reaching for.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Even for me.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Since the last time I was there, which may have been a year ago.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Too big to take a picture of, but had a jackalope, a box of Apple Jacks, Jack Kerouac... from table top to ceiling. Cooler than it sounds, trust me.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Seriously, it's a big house. Plenty big to have a tool annex. And a drawer devoted to trowels.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Remember the days, Sarah, Susie? Good times, good times...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Please note that I do not deride the red/turquoise/brown cowboy boots in and of themselves, but the mind that paired them with black leggings and a purple/blue sweater. And there's something... off about matching one's earrings to one's boots. Like matching one's lipstick to one's nail polish. Just... too.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And it's a shame the relationship was over before I could get a picture of the end cap full of owl tchotchkes labeled "penguins."

§§FOOTNOTE (kama sutra position #43): I saw the fetish book and thought it might actually be a knitting book, naughty or just indicative of the mania of knitting. Then I saw the Kama Sutra and I realised yet another knitter had abandoned sex in favour of socks.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (marching band style!): If I have to hear that song all day in my head, you have to hear that song all day in your head.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): As always, when I say, "you," I mean "I."

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding of palm to forehead): About the time I finished typing the beer bottle analogy, I realised a shooting star would work just as well and probably be more elegant. Then I decided I don't want to get *too* elegant. I'd never be able to live up to it, long term.

†††FOOTNOTE (is it Easter yet?): I am getting so good at this review-speak.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): The Parfums MDCI site doesn't have any words on Péché Cardinal that I could find. Normally, I would quote them and use this footnote to tell you what a wondeful, warm, gentlemanly man Claude Marchal (the owner of MDCI) is, but since I couldn't hook that all up like I wanted, I'm just going to hijack the footnote for my own purposes. Why are the French so vilifiable as a group, but so lovely individually?

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): You know that if I thought "raisin" was close enough to plum, I will argue that "prune" is that much closer.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (all roads lead to Paris): This is also apparently a pun of sorts, as Peche without accents, or with different accents or perhaps without the "e" on the end means "peach tree." And this is a peach fragrance, so... pun.

§§§FOOTNOTE (nothing spins me like a good word): I love "contrapunto." You don't get nearly enough contrapunto in daily life. I plan to work contrapunto in to my everyday conversation.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (your head, it goes *beatbeatbeat*when your nose muscles are tired): Hans played many hours of beach volleyball yesterday and maintains that *all* his muscles are tired.

Can I Get Some Glitter?

Yes. Yes, I can.

Remember a hundred years ago when I was talking about the Glam Rock swap?

I completed my mystery project, received my package, went on to live my life, invented no-run pantyhose, revolutionised modern hair care, became a spokeswoman for the plight of bookstore customers worldwide and died at the age of 102† with a smile on my face.

[SUMMARY: Dreaming out loud.]

Seriously, it's been awhile. A couple of weeks at least. But, y'know... the camera, the uploading, the same old story.

Anyway, here's my package‡:




Let's get a close-up of those stitch markers:




I don't know how glam skulls are, but they're certainly *me* and I believe that's what counts.§

How cool is this?




It has a full Bowie bio between its shiny, shiny covers.

[SUMMARY: If it has David Bowie, it must be cool.¶]

Now for the tooting-my-own-horn portion of the program.#

Remember when I showed you the needle-felted Obama Brother made? And remember how I showed you a bag of fluff and said I was going to make something glam inspired by the needle-felted Obama?

[SUMMARY: If you don't remember, I'll remind you.]

Quick side trip to the back story††: You know how there are things that follow you? Like you have some sort of pre-destined meeting‡‡ with this... thing?

F'rinstance: a month or so ago, Juno asked how close I live to North Boulder because Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, a perfumer, has her shop there. I'd never heard of DSH, but within three days of Juno's inquiry, Chandler Burr reviewed her, I saw an ad for her, Nathan may have mentioned her... it was like she was haunting me.§§

Well, I had a similar series of events surrounding Klaus Nomi. A few years ago, I got my brother "The Nomi Song" for Christmas, part of a series of odd and/or interesting gifts we have exchanged. When I got it, I was only vaguely aware of Klaus Nomi, and then only as one of the first celebrities to die of AIDS.

Brother watched the film then passed it on to me. Turns out Nomi was an artist of some merit and a character worth filing in the brain, if for nothing else, for his glam¶¶ persona.

Then this glam swap came up and my recipient mentioned liking Klaus Nomi. Then Paris fashion week brought a Klaus Nomi reference. Then Nathan posted something that caused me to make a Klaus Nomi reference.## Then I decided to make a needle-felted Klaus Nomi, and when I explained this to the nice women at Fancy Tiger, one of them said, "That's so strange. I was just going through my iPod yesterday and re-discovered Klaus Nomi. I've been playing him a lot today."

[SUMMARY: KNMI: All Klaus Nomi, all the time.]

So, yeah. I needle-felted a Klaus Nomi.†††




[SUMMARY: Duh.]

This action appears to have exorcised Klaus Nomi's ghost. Who knew he was just hanging around waiting to be immortalised in wool so his soul could rest?


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Marin the Math Wizard would like to acknowledge that if she told you about the glam rock swap a hundred years ago, she was probably at *least* 141 when she died.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): The scarf is all glammy teal and fuschia and silver... but it looks like a Colorado Avalanche scarf to me. I'm pretty sure hockey isn't glam, so I'm pretty sure that's not what my upstream swap partner meant.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Being, as I am, the cente of my own universe.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Rule of Cool #9 (right below sunglasses and right above an Eames chair).

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I have not yet decided if I want to continue tooting my own horn because nobody gets the job done quite like I do, or if I'm sick and tired of tooting my own horn and want an experienced horn-tooter to toot my horn for me. Wait... what were we talking about?

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): What your people call "tangent," my people call "side story." I was just channelling the Land O' Lakes chick, in case that didn't come across.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I *really* wanted to reference the story where the wealthy Indian merchant hears that Death is coming to his house, so he gets on his horse and rides to [city in India] to cheat Death, only Death shows up at his house and when the servants tell him the merchant isn't there, Death says, "Oh, that's alright. I'll see him tomorrow. We have a meeting in [city in Inda], and the story's title is "Meeting in [city in India]," only I can't remember the name of the city and Google isn't much help in this case and if ANYBODY knows what the hell I'm talking about, please give me the title in the comments because it's driving me mad and I may not sleep until I get the answer.

§§FOOTNOTE (twisty tales): Unlike Klaus Nomi, who was always a little outside the box, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz was easy to appease -- a little VISA magic and some Mini bonding and her spirit rested.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (space age antennae?): I don't mean in the Vogue/W Magazine sense or in the 80s hair band sense. I mean in the David Bowie-Gary Giltter-Tommy Bolen sense.

##FOOTNOTE (that's me, pounding my head on the desk trying to dislodge clever thoughts): I honestly have no memory of what this footnote was going to be. Bet it was clever. And funny. ETA: GOT IT! I was going to say something about how commenting with slightly obscure references is why one files such bits away. The irony is not lost on me.

†††FOOTNOTE (hot cross Klaus): If I were a better photographer, you could see the prominent cheekbones and the sharp, slightly upturned nose.

I Have a Dream

TTHFCIF†

I have an awesome dream: French cuffs.‡


{DC Comics}


For women.


{212 Metalworks via CuffLinks.com}


For me.

[SUMMARY: In the end, it's all about me.]


{Tateossian}%


Wildly fashionable§ and widely available.¶


{Tracey Mayer}


I've always trod a fine line between resenting and envying that most men in my corporate sphere can look crisp and businesslike on a wardrobe of a half-dozen ties,# four or five pairs of nice slacks and a half-dozen clean-tailored†† shirts.‡‡

And one pair of shoes, if they're careful of their colours.§§

[SUMMARY: It would seem I don't have enough to worry about.]


{Apparently discontinued from Thompson London, but available at CuffLinks.com }


I would SO wear a crisp, starched¶¶ shirt every day if I could wear cufflinks.##

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

Rose 31 - Le Labo (edp)

Marin says: There's barely a bud of a rose at first blush, what with all the incense floating around.

Second blush is wood and cinnamon and clove with a hint of something dirty@ -- like cumin? Or like an indole? It's not enough to do more than hint at the unwashed, but just enough to keep the cinnamon and clove thing from being too hot apple cider.†††

Hours later, it settled into my skin like a good musk will, with a breath of rose left. Throughout its lifespan, it was never strident -- I could never smell it unless I laid nose to wrist. But it was always there.

I'm really impressed with the musk, since musk is often soapy and usually shows up right at the end in an otherwise lovely perfume, putting a Tide-scented damper on delicious-smelling day. But this is a warm skin smell I've read about from perfume enthusiasts with more depth than mine and I'm glad to make its acquaintance.

Le Labo says: Roses for men! The perfume's aim is clear; to transform the famous Grasse Rose, a symbol of voluptuousness and unualified femininity in perfume, into an assertively virile fragrance for men...

The result is a model of its kind: alternating feminine/masculine with the disturbing ambiguity of the Centrifolia roe, quickly picked up by a chorus of warm, spicy and woodsy notes such as cumin, olbanum, cedar and a touch of amber...

In the background, the declaried sensuality of Gaiac wod and cistus highlighted by a distinctly physicla animal note, give this perfume a disconcerting sense of mystery.

NOTES: Rose absolute,$ rose essence,$ cumin,$ olibanum,$ cedar wood, cistus, gaiac wood, musk,$ oud wood, vetiver.‡‡‡

Hans says: Hans is in Manhattan Beach, California this morning. Since he's surfing and heckling Chelsea Handler§§§ while I'm keeping the industry afloat, he doesn't get a say in this one.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): It's been a LONG time since I thanked the Holy Fucking Cats for Friday. I'm torn: is it idolatry or having other gods, therefore a cardinal sin (or two), to give thanks to the Cats? But then, things have spiraled downward since the last time I thanked the Cats, so I worry that I've angered them and will experience continous black cat-worthy bad luck if I don't.

And you thought being a saint-in-training was easy.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I had a French cuff shirt once. Accidentally. It came complete with buttons connected by a stem that approximated cuff links. Not the same thing.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Pearly pink pig balls, anyone?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And I can live without fashionable.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm talking Old Navy available. Target available. First person who tells me I can probably Google "french cuffs women" and find an Argentinian tailor to make me some is banned for life.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And don't tell me about the evils of neckties. I've worn neckties. When I worked for a backward company that insisted women wear skirts and pantyhose and no open-toed shoes ever, but men could wear jeans on Friday provided they wear a necktie, I wore a necktie so I could wear jeans too. Like a protest. Neckties just aren't that bad.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Why do you suppose it's "colour" and "humour," but not "tailour"?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And their drycleaning costs way less too! They could probably get away with even less items of clothing.

§§FOOTNOTE (when I shake my head, that's what my hair does): "Rich, you are NOT leaving the house dressed like that."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"Because people know we're dating and I feel the yellow shirt, brown- and blue- striped tie, charcoal slacks, brown belt, black shoes and navy socks will reflect poorly on me."

True story.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (standing straight): Oh, how I love the smell and feel of a starched shirt. I just need an excuse, people. Come on. The economy is dire -- catering to the consumer with impulse issues wouldn't be your worst plan of attack.

##FOOTNOTE (ooooh... pound signs could make cool cuff links): It could be my signature look. Like a tuxedo on Diane Keating or sequins on Cher.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I do appreciate a hint of something dirty.

†††FOOTNOTE (cocktail picks!): Nothing wrong with hot apple cider, mind you, but it's not a particularly *sophisticated* scent. And y'all know I'm nothing if not sophisticated. Just look at my taste in cuff links.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): Yes, I'm giving myself credit for rose. Call me mistress of the obvious. Then again, I'm kinda sad I didn't find any cedar, since it's one of my absolute favourites... and vetiver, since I feel like I've had a very thorough education in vetiver now and can confidently pick it out of a crowd. I shoulda knocked wood before I even THOUGHT that.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (parade route): It's like a parade of scents I don't really know. Like they said, "Hmmm... rose, cumin... and a bunch of shit Marin couldn't pick out of a lineup if her life depended on it." Oh, hey -- it really *is* all about me.

§§§FOOTNOTE (a wicked twiddling of my handlebar moustache): Hans has a sordid past that includes having a very short degrees-of-separation from Chelsea Handler. Some day I'll tell you the story.