When I grow up, I want to be just like Felice Green, this wonderful woman here. Felice is a local retired educator, and I imagine
that if you had her for a teacher, your life was changed forever. For one thing, she has a gorgeous voice. It’s rich and gracious and she enunciates every syllable so distinctly that you’re like, “Oh, so that’s how that word is supposed to sound.” Also, Felice does not put up with foolishness. Of any kind. She just looks at you and you know that by the sheer force of her will, she simply Is Not Stand For It, thank you very much, so you’d Better Straighten Up and Fly Right. (I still call her “ma’am” when I talk to her. I can’t help it.) And then there is Felice’s style. Like her tutorial counterpart Mary Poppins, Felice is practically perfect in every way. She is impeccably groomed and immaculately dressed and I only wish I could rock this over-sized man’s suit jacket hand-painted with a Santa Claus and other symbols of holiday cheer that she found in a vintage boutique. But instead of looking chic and stylish and even sort of royal as Felice does, I think I’d simply end up looking foolish — a word that’s probably not even in her vocabulary. I first met Felice when I was a staff writer for the local newspaper and she helped with her sorority’s annual hosting of the Ebony (magazine) Fashion Fair, the world’s largest traveling fashion show. Fashion Fair brought high-end designs and runway productions to the normal everyday small-town Sears-clearance-rack-wearing folks like me, and I loved every minute of it. I’ve tried to talk Felice into organizing our own version of Fashion Fair, but she’s too busy hanging out with her grandchildren and doing good works. And looking fabulous, as always.
Category Archives: fashion
Cupcakes and Tablescapes
Think a beautifully set table is beyond your creative reach this Christmas? Cringing at spending $4 for that festively decorated cupcake? Don’t worry — your holiday can be
magazine-worthy AND frugal at the same time. First, some background. The Florence-Lauderdale Public Library, in Florence, Ala., excels at connecting with the community. The folks there have turned the FLPL into a local gathering spot. You don’t go there simply to check out a book or check on the Internet — you go there to meet, eat, drink, sip, learn, watch, view, play, shop, talk, research and more. Example: A series of free monthly programs focusing on do-it-yourself topics that might
especially interest young adults. Created by two young women staffers, the series brings in local experts on such subjects as grilling, sewing pillows and pulling together your first Thanksgiving dinner. December’s program was “Christmas Cupcakes and Tablescapes” and it was so much fun. Decorating this season is bold & graphic and casual & eclectic — I was especially pleased to learn that since down-home imperfection is hot and glossily meticulousness is out, I now am apparently completely on trend — so creating decor using what’s within reach is both stylish and smart. Take the tablescapes. I’ve never considered using flat king sheets as table linens, but what a super idea that is. Add brown craft paper for a kid-friendly table runner, place cards for a thoughtful touch and a centerpiece featuring old glass jars with unpopped popcorn anchoring backyard-branches and you’ve got a simple yet eye-catching design. And, here’s breaking news from the cupcake front: The latest thing is to leave a border of unfrosted cake to enhance that imperfect undecorated feel. I think I’ll need to do more research on this and report back. In the meantime, make your own edible snowflakes by drawing patterns on parchment paper, melting candy-making wafers in a plastic squeeze bottle and then piping along your pattern. Adorable! Allmost tempts me to wander into the kitchen and pull out bowls and beaters and get to work. Almost …
Wedding Bliss
Who doesn’t love a good wedding? I mean, you’ve got food & drink & cake & music &
friends & mingling & can-you-believe-what-she’s-got-on all in one space — and when the bride and groom truly love each other and are looking forward to beginning a life together … well, that’s even better. Like a recent wedding Husband JP and I went to in Oxford, Mississippi — Ole Miss territory. It was sweet and simple and festive. Not over- or under-done. The young couple were joyously delighted to be getting married and sharing their day with their special people, and that spirit shone through every detail. At the ceremony — held in an Oxford church north of
downtown — the bride was beautiful, the groom was adorably nervous and the church’s minister blended humor and faith with a dash of irreverence and a healthy respect for marriage that resulted in perfect officiating. Then came the mad dash and eternal quest for parking space in Oxford’s downtown square as folks drove back for the reception at the Oxford University Club. The gorgeous fall evening meant the party took full advantage of the club’s outstanding second-floor outdoor space for dancing, dining and drinking al fresco, while the inside dining room was just right for cozy meeting and greeting. Despite a minor mishap at the mashed-potato bar — who knew a pyramid of martini glasses could be so unstable? — it was a fun night and a lovely wedding and we were honored to be a part of it.
Signs of Fall
Everybody here in the South agrees that this is one of the best falls ever. Usually
f we go straight from summer into winter, but this year we’ve actually had the warm days & cool nights of autumn. The leaves are getting gorgeous, but there are other signs of fall. Such as scarecrows, as pictured on the left. And you thought that was a photo of me on my daily walk through the forest! You should know that I never would pair red devil horns with a red handbag AND red shoes — too matchy-match. No, this actually is “The Devil Wears Prada”‘s Miranda Priestly on the Huntsville Botanical Garden‘s annual Scarecrow Trail. Created by the Women’s Business Center of North Alabama, Ms. Scarecrow Priestly accessories her Halloween look with a zebra-print blazer — and until only a year or so ago I owned an almost identical blazer. You know you need a closet redo when your outfits show up on a devil scarecrow — albeit a stylish one. Fall also is the time when autumnal art work shows up on refrigerators. It’s been a long dry spell between our now 20-something-year-old daughters bringing home their falling-leaves pictures and our 3 1/2-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable adding to the collection. The Captain stayed with Husband JP and I a few days ago, and I went through his backpack a couple of his papers from Spanish class fell out of his backpack, so I claimed them. To finish off the refrigerator decor, Capt. Adorable arranged the alphabet magnets into a train, which I thought was very creative and brilliant of him. Genius baby!
Random Thoughts …
… from a cluttered mind:
- This TV season is so full of gems that our DVR can’t catch a break. If you’re not watching “Community,” “Modern Family,” “Parks and Rec,” “Castle” and “Prime Suspect,” then you are missing out. Not to mention perennial favorites such as “The Office,” “Survivor” and “Amazing Race.” And this is even before “Cougar Town” and “30 Rock” come back. On the other hand, perhaps this is why I never can find the time to
finishstart the great American novel. - Saving money doesn’t always save money. For instance, my
debit-card-pinching Scrooge-likesensible and financially-savvy husbandinstituted a crazy and unworkable spending banthought that we should perhaps maybe reign in the spending for a while.“I’ll show him,” I snarled to myself.Fair enough. However, saving money is relative. Take Worcestershire sauce. In our house, fall signals the arrival of Chex-Mix Season and it was time to make that all-important first test batch. Mindful ofmy husband’s Draconian desire to save moneythe budget, I carefully collected the necessary ingredients. And since you can’t scrimp on the stars of the show — you know you always can tell when somebody uses generics — I made up the difference on the supporting cast. That’s how I ended up with a huge bottle of store-brand Worcestershire sauce that was 2.3 cents cheaper per serving than the small bottle big-name brand I usually buy — until I got home and dropped the bottle on the kitchen floor and tons of watery salty fishy liquid went everywhere and the bargain buy turned out to cost me $9.46 to make up for the lost first bottle, the small-but-expensive replacement bottle, the half-roll of paper towels used in clean-up and the emotional toll on our four cats who spent the remainder of the evening frantically trying to find the anchovies they knew had been there. - A Grove-going Ole Miss fan confirmed my suspicions that most Grove-going Ole Miss fans are more interested in the Grove-going than the actual football game. And given their season so far this year, you can’t really blame them.
- Do people actually wear this stuff? In a T.J. Maxx checkout line, (Note to Husband: I was there to return things. Really. That is all. Promise. Could I help it if that black Kenneth Cole jacket literally jumped into my cart and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer?), I noticed posters of outfits that were supposed, I guess, to inspire us style-wise. One look was a pair of bright pink tights, a black satin ruffled micro-mini skirt and an off-the-shoulder gray jersey sweatshirt. The other look was short red-plaid shorts, a patterned sleeveless blouse and a big furry vest — reminiscent of what got Anthony Ryan booted from “Project Runway.” What I really think happened is that the editors and marketing folks got together and said, “Let’s test our power by convincing our customers to buy and wear the most god-awful things we can think of.” (Maniacal evil laugh.) But guess what, people? IT DIDN’T WORK!!!! I thwarted your dastardly plan by buying the Kenneth Cole jacket instead, plus two dresses, a pair of shoes and this really great saucepan I think I probably will need sometime. See???? You cannot influence my spending at all. Take that!!!!!!!
- My husband and I failed our house’s intelligence test the other day when we had to call the builder for instructions on how to access the windows so we could clean them. Which means I’m embarrassed about not being able to figure out how our windows work as well as living in the house for almost a year before getting around to washing them.
These Are Not Your Mother’s Maternity Clothes — But If They Are, Ask If You Can Borrow Them
Have you seen maternity clothes lately? If you didn’t know these photos were taken in a baby/maternity boutique,
would you have guessed? These are from Older Daughter’s current favorite shopping destination — Posh Mommy, in Madison, Ala. At close to seven months pregnant with 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable’s younger brother, she ends up here anytime she’s got a few spare minutes. Her favorite part of the store is the baby and children’s sections – more on that later — but she’ll still wander through the maternity aisles and point out her favorites. However, always the practical one, she won’t let me buy her one of these pretty dresses since, as she says, “I don’t go to an office anymore and I just wear yoga pants and t-shirts all the time so you should save your money.” But she looks beautiful and glowing in whatever she wears, and since she generally has better financial sense than I do, I keep nagging her to try something on until she gets irritated and goes to look at receiving blankets graciously give in and do what she wants. Back to my original questions, though. Did you realize maternity clothes now are practically indistinguishable from regular clothes? I first noticed this trend four years ago during our first round of maternity shopping, but this time it’s even more pronounced. And I think I know why: Maternity clothes have become much more stylishly mainstream in the past 30 years or so (combining runway details with hidden expanding-tummy tricks) and, at the same time, regular clothes have become much more maternity-like (with empire waists, soft fabrics and flowing lines). It’s as if the two met in the middle and created a love-child of chic and sexy yet comfortably wearable non-maternity maternity wear. And yoga pants.
Nobody Checks Betty White’s ID, Either
Okay, I realize that some days I’m more likely to look all of my almost-54 years than other days. I mean, we can’t be fabulous every single minute, can we? That would be boring. And exhausting. And, truthfully, I rarely achieve “fabulous” anyway. The nearest I get is “Not Too Bad if You Don’t Look Too Closely” and, honestly, I’m fine with that. However, when the cashier at Kroger decides to hit the “Age Verification Bypassed” button instead of going through the motions of asking to see my ID when I come through her line with a six-pack of Red Stripe, it makes me think maybe I should put a bit more effort into my morning routine. Or have a morning routine, perhaps. Sadly, this Kroger incident merely capped off a week of subtle reminders, age-wise. For instance, a friend who also has a 54th birthday this summer gleefully pointed out that next summer we can celebrate by shopping with senior-citizen discounts at Belk. And my younger brother who I still picture in a Little League uniform is turning 50 this year. But the most telling of all is the morning when the headline on my daily fashion-advice email from a favorite style website was “Get Betty White’s Sexy Look!” … and I clicked on it.
In Which I Cover Patriotism, Fashion, Newspapers and Fresh Spearmint
I am staging a protest here. Care to join me? In the spirit of the recent Fourth of July celebration, let’s refuse to be bullied into thinking it’s fall. (And if you still have a few fireworks, please move them away from the gas grill — do not ask why I’m confident this is good advice.) Let’s stand up for our rights to enjoy the remaining two months of summer without feeling pressured. Know what I mean??? I’m talking to you, Fashion Industry! It’s early July and I haven’t even worn all my leftover faded sundresses and stained ratty tank tops stylish new summer clothes you convinced me to buy this past January when there was 6 inches of snow on the ground. It’s 99 degrees today, yet here you come with your seductive ads, glossy catalogues and insistent pop-ups: “New Fall Styles Are In!” “Get Ready for Football Weekends” and the always alarming “It’s Time for Back-to-School Shopping!” Excuse me, but no. It is not. Besides, when I actually am looking for corduroy jeans and black wool turtlenecks, you’ve gone on to shorts, sandals and beach cover-ups. So enough already. Let’s throw off the shackles of fashion tyranny and demand the right to shop for clothes when they’re actually in season! Who’s with me? We’ll organize a march at the mall. Hey, if foodies can fight for season choices, then so can we. But … you know … now that I’m thinking about it … while we’re at the mall, would you mind if we waited a couple of minutes before marching because I saw this really cute transitional sweater there the other day and the sales clerk said she was getting in the first batch of knitted scarves and …
And to prove that it’s still summer, here’s a photo of the table my mom set for our Fourth of July family get-together. She’s the queen of holidays and has an incredible storehouse of linens, plates, glasses and serving pieces in almost any color you need. Sadly, she did not pass this creative design-ability on to me, although I do honor Christmas by bringing out coffee mugs with snowpeople on them. So there. What I really like about this photo, however, are all the little clues it has about my family. For instance, the spearmint sprigs on the applesauce came from Older Daughter’s garden that she optimistically replanted after the April 27 tornadoes carried her carefully nurtured seedlings away. My mom loves mint-flavored applesauce because her mom made it when my mom was little. Then there’s the potted centerpiece that my brother brought — the blossoms can be added to the flower bed and the plastic container recycled. And, finally, notice the newspaper in the back corner? I grew up thinking that it’s the most natural thing in the world to eat breakfast and read the newspaper and know what’s going on in the world before you headed out in it. And I still do.
Objects in Packaging May Be Smaller than They Appear
Dear Olay, I like your products. I really do. They work pretty much like you say they will and they sure beat the fancy stuff, price-wise. It’s just … well, I always feel as if you’re trying to lull me into thinking I’m getting two or three times more than I actually am. And there’s no need for that. It makes you look sort of duplicitous and sneaky (see Survivor’s Boston Rob for an example of this type of behavior.) I’d be happy with packaging that actually was the size of the product I’m buying — happier, truthfully, than paying for and disposing of three or four times as much paper and plastic than is required. And why place the jar behind the clear plastic so that you can’t really see the top of the bottom of it? Do you think I’m going to believe the jar is bigger than it is? I mean, I can read. I know how much is in the jar. When you try to pull a bait-and-switch, it makes me mad because 1) you think I’m that gullible and 2) I fell for it a little. So, please, just make a box that’s the size of the jar and we’ll all be much happier. Thank you very much.
The Captain and Tendrils
How 3-year-old grandson Captain Adorable went from hippie nature child to sweet little boy to cool rocker kid in 20 minutes …

- We didn’t really realize how long the Captain’s hair was until the stylist combed it out — there was more than enough for a Locks of Love donation, which is what the Captain’s mommy wanted.

- Oh so cute … this look says, “I use my inside voice and sit quietly in Sunday school.” And while the Captain can do those things (well, sometimes, anyway), they are not his favorite activities.

- This is the Captain’s new look. It says, “I like worms, mud and climbing over anything that Mommy & Daddy say I can’t.” Bath time took care of the blue spikes, but they could reappear at any moment.
The Captain’s mom, my Older Daughter, is having a hard time with the new ‘do. She was tired of people mistaking her little boy for a little girl — an understandable mistake, though — and going through more bottles of conditioner for his hair than she used on her own. But this is new. And different. It’s change. Her baby’s growing up. And mine, too. Sigh.

