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.

OK, OK

You caught me.




I'm actually a spork-wielding pig-licker.

With wings.

I Am a Bad-Ass†

Now go make your own. I have oil to sell.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): A bad-ass with shorter legs.

Est. c. 2007

Oh, hey look... I've been doing this for two years.

Yay, me.

Lent: Day 1

Forewent† Diet Pepsi at lunch.

When nice little Japanese lady at Tokyo Express said, "So good see you 'gain. Have special treat for special customer,"‡ and handed me a ramekin of candied walnuts,§ I smiled, thanked her and schlepped it back to the office, where I handed it off to Hans. Hans made inordinately appreciative yummy noises.

Joanne pointed out that I had chicken and, as it was Ash Wednesday, I wasn't supposed to be eating meat. I pointed out I'm not actually Catholic.

[SUMMARY: In which I publish my dorkitude.]

Passed up wine at Annie's.

Passed up amaretto/almond cheesecake at Annie's -- the kind that Hector says she didn't make for him until after they were married, but if she had made it while they were dating, he would have proposed to her on the spot. All book club attendees made inordinately appreciative yummy noises.

[SUMMARY: Sainthood is no primrose path.]


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I started every sentence with "I had to..." then thought the better of it. But "...had to forego" is an easier construct than trying to figure out the past of "forego." It's residual, small-scale martyrdom.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): For the record, the three people in line who ordered while I was waiting for my lunch did NOT get candied walnuts. I really am special.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): When Tallest, Hairiest Nephew was pretty young and just starting to parrot what we said, I made him a treat from my childhood: pie crust cookies. I used a tiny duck cookie cutter to cut tiny duck shapes out of extra pie crust, then sprinkled them with cinnamon and sugar and baked them. When they were done (and tiny ducks hardly take any time at all to bake), I put them in a ramekin and presented it to him as a ramekin full of ducks. We taught him to say, "ramekin full of ducks." That was one of the best days ever. And it beats all hell out of having to give up a ramekin full of candied walnuts.

Heck

Philip José Farmer died this morning.

No more Riverworld, no more Kilgore Trout.

Oh, the Felinity

We tipped an entire bag of kitty treats on the floor during the morning treat-a-thon. A frenzy ensued. There was barfing.

Further updates as the situation warrants.

I Can Hear You Laughing

You Are a Turtleneck Sweater

You are sophisticated, streetwise, and even a little cynical. You are quite cultured, and you don't fall for gimmicks or trends easily. You are naturally chic. You have a urban, cosmopolitan style. And you know that the secret to looking good is not trying too hard!

What Kind of Sweater Are You?

I saw this on some nice blogger's blog, but I don't remember whose. Please don't be offended. At least I didn't arbitrarily and capriciously name you Stacey.

Wouldn't it be funny if I originally saw this on Stacey's blog?

This Just In

HP uses more footnotes than I do.

Any Idiot Can Have a Blog

I'm living proof.

Remember how I told you Secret Pal's name was Stacey? Or perhaps Stacy?

I got the oddest little note† from her saying, "Well, I'm truly mystified! My name is not Stacey. Why do you think it is? I gotta know."

So I promised her I would look at the note again and figure out where I got it.

*ahem*

Now, I squinted and turned my head 90 degrees to the left and I could see where I came up with "Stacy,"‡ but when I re-read it, it clearly says, "Stay Rickety."§

I told Hans yesterday I remembered her name as Stacey Rickets or something like that.¶

O

M

G

Shoot me now. I'm a danger to myself and others.

I'm once again reminded of how very lucky my clients are to have my sharp, insightful brain dedicated to their company's well-being and future growth.

Now I must go divest.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Possibly far less odd than me randomly assigning her a new name.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): But clearly not "Stacey," though I was so sure of that last week.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): She also used footnotes in a really cute and funny way, which made me laugh and took my mind off my impending downward spiral into madness.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I am sure someday we'll look back on this and laugh. Not today.

Do NOT Look at This Post

You were warned. I have done my saintly duty.


{Bella's womb in felt via Cinematical}


Stupid sparkly vampires are apparently *breeding*.

*shudder*

And some fibre-monkey actually took the time to FELT this monstrosity. I weep for the craft. Sometimes, I think, "Because I can," is not an adequate excuse.

Says the girl knitting three pairs of socks at once.

Proper Use of a Crochet Hook

From Athens... I keep wanting to link this to Kim, but wrong Athens.

Knitta's Paradise

Miscellaneous knit shipments you need to know about.†

[SUMMARY: Late-breaking news.]

Yarn from Knit! on Etsy:





Extravagance Sock Yarn in Sapphire.
*63% Superwash Merino, 20% Silk, 15% Nylon, 2% Silver
*Fingering Weight
*415 Yards
*Machine Wash/Tumble Dry Low
*7-8 stitches/inch on US 1-3 needles

It's superwash and it's sparkly and it's named after a rock.‡ What more could you ask for?

The last shipment of the first round§ of the Black Bunny Yarn Club:





Black Bunny 100% Silk in Brown Tourmaline.
*DK Weight
*260 Yards
*I wouldn't put this in the washer and dryer unless I was making a hilarious YouTube video.

It's silk and it's glowy and it's named after a rock.

[SUMMARY: Shiny!]

And from Bob and Nancy%:





Finally! My Addi Clicks that I ordered in October, the second I heard there would be such a thing.

[SUMMARY: Early adoption is its own punishment.]

I'm going to review them, along with a bargain set of needles, next week. For now, let's just look at the pretty pictures.

For those who are wondering, I did have the very pointed,¶ very conscious# thought that perhaps I should stop buying knitting stuff and actually knit something with the stuff I have.

But what if I'm the only thing shoring up whole sectors of the economy?††

FRACAS UPDATE: I washed my face last night. I showered this morning. My left wrist still smells like modern-day Fracas. The right wrist was nothing but a misty, watercolour mem'ry of white flowers by the time I got home from work last night.

The good thing about the left wrist: perfumes that last a long time are good.

The bad thing about the left wrist: perfumes that won't go away after you wash them with soap and water‡‡ are liable to overstay their welcome. Good thing I like it.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): If you don't know, how can you want?

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Rocks friends.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I've won my bracket, however, and am moving on to Round Two.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): If you Google "Bob and Nancy addi," the third through fifth things that pop up are a daredevil archery duo named Bob and Nancy. You can buy a DVD of their death-defying act.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Knitting needles... pointed... I crack me up.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Conscious thoughts help validate all the unconscious ones.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Yarn, books, perfume, cable TiVi, chocolate, cell phones, fine dining, ice cream...

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Twice!

nonononononononononono

{via Yatzer}

The web is expanding, the noose is tightening... the geek is smothering the chic.

Of Interest

{Yves St Laurent exhibit at the de Young Museum via NY Times/The Moment}

This is a hand-knit wedding gown from the mind of Yves St. Laurent, Fall/Winter 1965.

Revelation!

Poor Secret Pal. Her package wasn't even late or missing and she got caught up in the package madness. So here it is, at least a week later and she's finally getting the credit due her.

It doesn't mean I'm any less grateful, just that camera thing. And the chronology thing.

[SUMMARY: Sophie's Choice for Dummies.]

Secret Pal's name is Stacey.^ She didn't tell me which blog is hers,† but I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I do.

So let's dig in and see what I've got, shall we?

Yarn, of course. Sock yarn, purple yarn, sometimes at the same time:






There's enough of the Endless Summer for at least a tank or a shell -- eight balls.‡

[SUMMARY: A good excuse for a trip to Ravelry.]

This, I don't know. I'm thinking this is pet yarn.§






It's handspun by Stacey herself and I could look at it for hours, just watching the colours and the soft halo.

And petting it.

[SUMMARY: Things are apparently a little quiet at Chez Barfly.]

This, I kinda wanted to eat. Almost did. Had to check the label several times to be sure I couldn't.




See? It totally looks like chocolate. Trust me, it smells like chocolate too -- not the slightest soapy smell to the stuff.¶

[SUMMARY: In which I taste soap. *ahem*]

Allow me to make girl noises for a moment.#

*SQUEEEEE!*




It†† goes perfectly with my calaveras project bags Sylvia made me for my birthday last year.

[SUMMARY: Skulls!]

And, well, there was a little tub of lavender hand cream that I thought I got a picture of‡‡ but I don't see here, and a half-dozen perfumes from the Velvet Moon Bathery§§ that I know I didn't get a picture of because I took them straight to the office so I could play with them.

Suffice to say they have skulls and black ribbons on them and come in scents like "Raven Moon" and "Belladonna."

My gothy little soul is replete with shiny¶¶ blackness.

Thank you so much, Stacey! When you come up for air, let me know where your blog is.

Now I must to werk. These properties won't divest themselves.

[SUMMARY: Promise to miss me.]

XOXO
M

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

Fracas (original EDT) and Fracas (current incarnation EDT) - Robert Piguet

Marin says%: This is an exercise in compare and contrast. I purposely ordered## both the original and the current Fracas to see what the difference is. And, frankly, if I could even tell a difference.@

Starting with Fracas in general, it's certainly primarily tuberose. With both the original and the current versions, the first blast is TUBEROSE. It only takes a moment, however, for the original and the current version to go their separate ways.

In my limited ability, it seems all the notes are as promised in each, just in different concentrations or perhaps different chemical versions.+

The original softened quickly into a less tuberose-dominant††† melange of white flowers, with a stronger beat of visceral, meaty smell of jasmine. The musk floated up and was noticable.

The current Fracas kept the tuberose front and centre and in the spotlight, but left the musk somewhere backstage straightening the curtains.‡‡‡

After an hour or so, the original had settled very close to my skin, only the musk escaping to flavour the air in my office. Snuffling my wrist, I found a pleasant, rounded§§§ tuberosey thing side-by-side with a soft, sandalwood-orange thing.

By then, the vetiver and the tuberose were having a loud argument on my left wrist, with the jasmine lending something dirty to the fray. And maybe, maybe just an occasional glimpse of an orange.

Maybe that's what the others were fighting over -- the last section of orange.

All whimsy and poetry aside, I'm delighted I could tell a difference between them. I mistakenly told Hans I thought the original Fracas was an early eighties scent -- I think I associate the big, brash part of tuberose with the eighties. Turns out it was introduced in 1948. Knowing all I know, I would say the 1948 version speaks to a softer era. The 2008 version is more rock 'n' roll, with the salty metal of vetiver~ being so prominent and the whole thing staying so loud.

But the flash and tang of tuberose says that the women who wore it in 1948 may have been a good suburban housewife or a well-behaved denizen of the typing pool, but she might have taken a dose of or Malcolm McLaren if it'd been offered to her.

Hans says: The left one is definitely more floral and the right is more... Body Shop. So I'm going to go with the right is more new age.

More floral [flapping one hand], Body Shop [flapping the other].¶¶¶

Robert Piguet says: Tuberose, seductive and lush, combines with Jasmine, Jonquil, Gardenia, Lily of the Valley and White Iris in a lavish profusion of fragile white flowers. A whisper of orange with a base of Sandalwood, Vetiver, and Musk.


^FOOTNOTE (careted): Or possibly Stacy. I forgot to bring the card with me and now I'm even more of a dork than usual.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): *hint hint*

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Join me in a moment of twelve, won't you?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Though I really want to see how it knits up. How dopey would it be to knit a big swatch, frog it, then continue to pet the yarn?

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It really should have a warning label like they put on the silica gel in electronics packaging that says, "This is NOT candy. Do NOT eat this." For, y'know... um... children.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): If you make girl noises over skulls, it's totally punk. Not at all My Little Pony.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): It comes from the Artsy Athina Etsy shop.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): It looks like a little, purple hat box, if that helps.

§§FOOTNOTE (a tangled web): Which I like to think of as Bathory.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (goth clubs... hehehe): "Shiny" is so un-goth.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): It looks like Marin likes to hear herself talk. A lot.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding of his hideous heart! wait... that was Tuesday): Because what kind of scatterbrain would *accidentally* order two of the same thing? Which I didn't. This time.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I was terrified I wouldn't. Then what kind of review would this be? A much less wordy review, that's what.

+FOOTNOTE (plussed): As per our little perfume education session a couple of weeks ago when I nearly reviewed one of the Fracases (Fracasi?) on its own.

†††FOOTNOTE (whip whip whip): Can't you just see the little tuberose in a PVC corset and stiletto heels wielding a tiny, tuberose-sized whip?

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (to keep me on track): A very important supporting role, as I can attest from my first year of high school theatre. At least that's what they kept telling me.

§§§FOOTNOTE (ribbony... like this): Because tuberose is not round. No, no, no. Tuberose is like lightning, with spikes and flashes and ribbons -- not sharp, mind you, but definitely not round.

~FOOTNOTE (tilded. I don't think I've ever used a tilde before): And we're back to whimsy.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (past present and future): He was disappointed he didn't get them right, but to his credit, he didn't get to smell the rock 'n' roll dry-down.

If You Have to Try This Hard

{via Selectism}

The product probably isn't all that good.

"collector's bottle and speaker"... Oh, my aching ear.

***IMPORTANT GLITTER UPDATE***

*ahem*

It has come to my attention that I forgot to mention the make and model of the sequins and beads.

This was in no way an attempt at witless protection for The Yarn. I have not† gone so far afield that I think you can steal my yarn through the Innernets.

The sequin and bead yarn is Artyarns Beaded Silk and Sequins.

Carry on. Nothing further to see here.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Yet.

Geek vs. Chic

Once again, two worlds collide, both here:


{Evening Arwen Etsy shop via Gizmodo}


and here:


{Chop Shop via Gizmodo}


You decide the winner. Geek or chic?

Glitter of a Different Kind

Not the David Bowie kind... not even the Mariah Carey kind.†

This is the hallowed, soft, silky, gleaming glitter in the eyes of a knitter who has reached knitterly nirvana and delights in the envy of friends and family; thrower, picker and normal person alike.

[SUMMARY: Happy sigh.]

And sequins. It may have something to do with sequins.^

When I wrung all the photos out of the camera Sunday, I was trying to figure out which order to do all this in -- alphabetical? potential impact? number of photos?%

I opted for "order in which it was received."‡

So welcome to day two, the second missing package. This one might have been addressed to Blanche du Bois, a product, a it was, of the kindness of a stranger. Well, not stranger in the "unknown" sense, a friend to be sure, but a stranger to knitting.§

Isn't it remarkable what a fresh eye can bring to the stash?¶

Fabulous Yarns knows packaging is important:




And they do carry fabulous stuff.

[SUMMARY: Duh.]

This is Artyarns Cashmere 5. It's kinda hard to tell, but there's maybe a little more brown in this than the picture lets on.




Ah... there's the brown.




Cashmere, cashmere, soft as angels' wings packed in spring clouds. And I learned something very interesting about this particular cashmere: despite the fact that it looks like laceweight, it's actually wound as five unplied strands to make up a worsted weight.#

Thus:




[SUMMARY: I think we've all learned something here today.]

This one makes me dream at night. And troll Ravelry for hours.†† And guard it jealously when I show it off at Drunken Knitting and never turn my back on it because, y'know, knitters always have tote bags and plenty of pockets to hide a prized skein of yarn.‡‡




Look closer -- you'll see why this particular yarn drove me to new heights of photographic creativity.§§




My neighbours think I'm insane.¶¶

I don't care. I have The Yarn.##


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Sorry, Nathan. I know how you love your Mariah Carey Glitter references.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Sequins AND beads.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Best? Favourite? Prettiest? Best pictures? It was like Sophie's Choice until I came up with the very pedestrian "first come, first served."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): It works for Comcast, it should work for me.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And maybe a little strange (says the black pot). But mostly "stranger" in the sense of "not a fibre geek."

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And it just goes to show that good taste crosses genres.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Fabulous Yarns also has very patient customer service people who very patiently explained this to me when I wrote to tell them, "I think your yarn is mis-labeled because clearly this is laceweight."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): What *am* I going to make with the sequins and beads?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm playing out my own version of The Tell-Tale Heart here, people.

§§FOOTNOTE (twisted): Both yarns (collectively: The Yarn) went on many field trips as I showed them off and photographed them. When I floated the Rogue River for five days, I came away with 900 pictures. When I paraded The Yarn, I ended up with 800 pictures. I have a problem.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (raise your hand if you agree with the neighbours): Insaner. Than they already did. Nobody ever gets close enough for me to explain the blog thing. All they see is me photographing yarn and books on my deck and in the gazebo and in the Carousel Pavilion and they keep their distance.

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding from the floorboards): And the BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART! That may be funnier in my head than it is here. Y'all are used to that. Go back and look at the pretty yarn if you need to.