Bow Ties o’ the Day and I discovered two more possible choices for my Oscar Red Carpet attire. I’m partial to the outfit with the hat and the skirt-style cuffs. The shoes are snazzy as well, even though I’d be tripping down the Red Carpet– while continually spraining my ankles along my entire entry walk.
The tradition is for women to wear gowns to the Academy Awards ceremony, so if I’m gonna go that route, I’m thinking of wearing this mangy dress. It looks like it’s made of shredded paper, and that makes it non-traditional– which is more in line with my fashion goals. But it’s paired with deadly shoes too. What’s a girl to do?
A few weeks ago, I began the hunt for my Academy Awards attire, but I still haven’t made my choice o’ outfit yet. The more I browse through the fashion magazines, the more eye-assaulting clothing I find. And you know I must live up to others’ fashion expectations for me. I’m totally feeling the pressure to finally make the right choice, not just because the ceremony is in a few days, but because I have to nail it. I have a fashion reputation to uphold. My neckwear and I must entertainingly strut our slapstick slap-dashery stuff on the Red Carpet.
This afternoon, Bow Ties o’ the Day have been helping me picture myself in two possible attire choices. I have nice legs, so either of these outfits works as far as that goes. The black get-up looks a bit boring for me– color-wise, I mean. 😉 And its design doesn’t include a hat. I’m always up for sporting a hat. On the plus side, it appears– based on the model’s presentation– you’re not supposed to wear a bra with this outfit. We ladies know it’s always a bonus to not have to wear a bra. But is the bra-less aspect worth choosing this look for the bigly night o’ awards? I dunno.
On the whole, the scarf-y, kickin’ clothing is closer to being in alignment with my soul. But still… I’m not feelin’ it. My get-up choice must strike me with just the right lightning bolt. I guess there’s no lightning in my skies over these two choices, so I’ll keep hunting for the perfect-est. Oscar. duds. ever.
It took Suzanne and three Bow Ties o’ the Day to make my hairdo. Orange paisley Bow Tie helped Suzanne put in the curlers. Blue, polka dot Bow Tie was present for the two curlers-out photos. And black/ivory/gold Bow Tie showed up for the unveiling of the finished product.
This was the first time Suzanne experienced working on my hair, which she now says is the straightest hair she’s ever known. It is stubbornly straight. I had a few perms in my youth and not one “took.” I’ve always known the near-impossibility of styling my hair. Suzanne learned it first-hand last night.
Remember: I haven’t had my hairs cut since May, and it was an asymmetrical cut. I think Suzanne performed magic with what she had to work with. When I told her she has to build a hairdo for me once a week until the end of May– for Thursday posts– she got absolutely gleeful. She sees my hairs as an exciting challenge. She’s getting ideas for hairdo after hairdo. And we had a blast last night while she tried to perform a hairs miracle on my noggin. She chuckled at my locks the entire time, although once her chuckle sounded like it came out of nervous fear. Yeah, my hairs do scary things. (I refer to my hair as “hairs” because each strand has its own straight plans.)
Mom’s Thursday Hair Day appointment always gave her hair what she called “a little oomph.” I told Suzanne I wanted her to give my hair some oomph too. She proceeded to rat and rat and rat and rat and rat.
After this morning’s curlers and before the upcoming styling, plaid wood Bow Tie o’ the Day and I came up with this hairy look. It’s some kind of Edward-Scissorhands-meets-The-Joker hairstyle vibe.
Not surprisingly, I’m actually quite fond of my mop in this mode. But I’m afraid this sort of hairdo would be disruptive. It would take onlookers’ attention off Bow Tie and keep it for its hirsute self. I won’t allow that. Neckwear must always be the focal point of whatever clash fashion get-up I’m wearing at any given moment. I respect my neckwear, and I take its presentations seriously. Even when I’m not being serious. Which I rarely am. 👔 🎀 👒 🤡
As I’m writing this, Suzanne just got home from work. She informs me she’s all revved-up to get my hairs done did for me as soon as she’s changed into her grubby clothes. Stay tuned. Heaven help us all.
Hieroglyphics Bow Tie o’ the Day happily goes along with whatever idea I come up with for a post photo. Bow Tie’s not even embarrassed to seen with me, much like Suzanne is not. Whatever they feel for me, it must be strong. To be honest, there are occasions when I’m doubtful I want to be seen with me.
In honor of Mom’s decades-long routine of getting her hair done on Thursdays, at least one TIE O’ THE DAY post each Thursday is going to show the results of my own “hair day” too– until I get rid of most of my hairs at the end of May. I’m handing over the Thursday hairdo responsibilities to Suzanne, but I wanted to give it a shot myself.
This is what I can offer you today. (You’ll see the results of this attempt tomorrow.) I have never once in my life put a curler in my hairs. (Surprise! Surprise!) Other people have rolled them on my head, but not I. I don’t even remember anybody putting my hairs in regular curlers, just permanent rollers. I remember they hurt when they were put in and also when they got pulled out.
Anyhoo… Because I’m a newbie at this curler biz, I don’t know if my curler-ed head is supposed to look like this or not. I’m thinking it’s not. And although I believe in the adage “practice makes perfect,” I kinda think no amount of practice is gonna help me get this right.
Part of being smart is knowing when to pass the torch, er, curler to someone else.
Look at what Art Deco-style Bow Tie o’ the Day and I found at Dick’s Market when we were crossing items off our grocery list this afternoon! It’s the 2019 pre-Spring season’s first bag of Whopper’s Mini Robin Eggs– to be selfishly hidden in my Tie Room goodie stash. That’s worth celebrating in and of itself. The annual appearance of these candy eggs is a hint that Spring is just a bunny-hop away, which means Summer’s on the not-too-far-out-there horizon.
We also got an added bonus when we were pleasantly shocked to spy a long shelf of a new snack product made and named just for us: Pasta Bow Ties. (Not bow tie pasta, which we already know all about.) How groovy is that? Pasta Bow Ties are described on the package as a “baked puffed snack.” Bow Tie and I threw a bag of each of the three flavors we could find into the shopping cart. I haven’t yet tasted the goodies, but I’ll give you my tastebuds’ verdict after I do. Out of Meatball Parm, Smooth Cheddar, and Honey Butter flavors, I am bound to find at least one flavor of baked, puffed pasta to my liking. We’ll see.
Oh, and I noticed a witty detail about the snack’s packaging: bow tie-shaped bar codes on each bag’s butt. The cleverness of that little bow tie bar code will make me smile for at least a week. Joy is in the details, folks. Your joy depends on your noticing the tiniest of wonderful things around you. Those zillions of tiny things will be there to save your sanity when the bigly things turn to shit.
Did I type that word out loud? Well, I must have meant it.
Red and black Tie o’ the Day, with Chupa Chups lollipops Cufflinks o’ the Day, are pleased to sponsor Suzanne’s face update:
Suzanne says she’s okay. She says her scraped up face only hurts when she wears it. (Her pic in yesterday’s post still amuses and saddens me, simultaneously.) All I know is that the state of her face did not stop her from spending Sunday and Monday ironing fabric and cutting it into hundreds of one-and-a-half-inch strips with which to make yet another a quilt top. Suzanne creates a quilt top, therefore she is fine.
Now she’s off to work, where– when asked about her face– she will make up some tall tale about how I did it to her, so she won’t seem like such a klutz to her colleagues. And then she’ll finally tell them the real story of her innate inability to walk safely and her natural ability to trip over air. Everyone will laugh, including Suzanne, and then they’ll all get back to running the school district where they spend their careers working to improve public education for our children, despite the Utah State Legislature’s meddling and unwillingness to provide the necessary funds to pay for what public schools need. At least the Legislature has plenty of money for a new prison we don’t need. Just sayin’.
LOL Bow Tie o’ the Day and I soooo wish we had been there. Saturday evening, while I was still having Pajama Day, Suzanne drove to Ogden to attend a friend’s 60th birthday party. When she got there, as she stepped up from the road to the driveway, she tripped on the little half-inch-tall lip between the two. CRASH, went the bottle of wine she was carrying to the shindig. FLUMP went the gift bag she held. And Suzanne caught her fall with her face. Her coat got soaked with the wine she fell on. Thank the heavens, none of the broken bottle glass stabbed her. She didn’t do any irreparable harm to herself.
It was a surprise party and the birthday girl was due to arrive any minute. Friends rushed from the house to clean up the debris in the driveway and to scrape up Suzanne before the birthday girl arrived. They all scurried back into the house and their hiding places ASAP, while asking Suzanne how much she’d had to drink already. Not a drop.
But I sooo wish I had been there, for two reasons. First, Suzanne and I are both convinced if I had been with her the debacle wouldn’t have happened. If I had been there, I would have been carrying part of what Suzanne held. She would have been able to concentrate more on walking. And second, if she tripped with me there, I probably would have grabbed her before she hit the concrete OR she would have been able to catch herself by grabbing onto me. While she was at the party, she sent me this picture (without the bow tie), and the following text: “This is what happens when you don’t come with me.” True, that. I am a pretty capable walker.
Okay. There’s a third reason I wish I had been there. I would’ve had a bird’s-eye view of Suzanne’s circus act. Who wouldn’t want to see something like that? Trust me, she thinks it’s funny too (until she looks at her face in the mirror). I am sorry I missed the slapstick moment.
Suzanne knows she is a klutz, and we laugh about her clumsiness episodes regularly. There is a litany of tales I could tell about Suzanne’s lack of grace– from her running into a doorframe pole, to her slipping flat onto her back at the Delta bowling alley, toher tripping on the sidewalk at Thriftway, to her parking one of her car’s tires in a coverless manhole, and her weed-whacking her calf, and so on. It’s a blessing she has a good perspective on her abilities and her lack of abilities. Her unintended antics give us reason to laugh often. So far, she has not caused herself major bodily trauma. I cross my fingers.
Seriously, as amused as we are about Suzanne’s odd mis-haps, I wish she’d leave her extraordinary clumsiness behind. We’re too old for this. She’s gonna break a hip. Of course, then I could put her in Millard Care and Rehab as Mom’s roommate, so they could compare hip woes and talk about me and what a trial I am to be around. I could visit them both at the same time. If those two roomed together, that room would be a true carnival ride. Their visitors would walk out breathless but wanting to go back for another ride, again and again.
Since I declared yesterday to be a Pajama Day, I need to report that I did, in fact, loiter around the house in my mismatch-y pj’s and old-timey sleep hat for every minute of my Saturday. Well, I did leave the house once for about 45 seconds, for which event I changed into a striking wood-polka-dotted-pink-glitter Bow Tie o’ the Day. And, of course, I had to step into my Sloggers cow-print boots and don my harlequin-design cape for a dash to my car, to retrieve the new MUMFORD AND SONS cd I had left in there. (Oddly enough, the cd is titled DELTA.) Every Pajama Day requires tunes!
Oh, yes. I must also report that I did eat ice cream for each of my three meals, as per Pajama Day protocol. The entire TILLAMOOK tub of Caramel Butter Pecan ice cream has passed on into the vast, warm Heaven o’ my tummy. Pajama Day or not, today I’m opening up the tub of TILLAMOOK brand S’mores ice cream.
Suzanne did not do this to me. I did it to myself. Bow Tie o’ the Day wonders about me sometimes. So do I. But I yam what I yam.
As you can probably tell, my last cut o’ the hairs– which was in May– was an asymmetrical cut. When I got out of bed this morning, I promptly pigtailed my hairs as well as I could and declared today to be a Pajama Day. It’s a day to engage in sloth-ery. A day to attack no projects, to go nowhere, and to eat whatever ice cream is in the fridge– for all three meals.
FYI I am true to my clash fashion even on Pajama Day, so my pj bottoms do not match this pj top. In some previous Pajama Day pix, you’ve seen that’s the way I roll. It’s how I be. I can’t help it.
