Mom crushing

Seriously.

How awesome is this site? I want to send so many pictures here.

Mindy - Remember the University grad shot Mr. Maiden took? How about the one with her in the blue bikini, pigtails, and us crawling around on the rocks like little hermit crabs? Or how about the one she hides each time the Viking or Husband come for a visit (and I love that she hangs it on the wall!!)?

http://momstyleicons.blogspot.com/

putting a name on the secret

Dudes.

I'm a guinea pig.

It began with that secret I told you about, and swiftly (well, you know, for a dermatologist) turned into a trip to a dermatologist and allergy testing.

When we had the appointment on Wednesday, the Doctor was very animated, indicating she thought that I would be an 'excellent case' and very well may result in her publishing the results. Awesome! I'm gonna be famous!!!

I thought we were talking about 10 or 15 test spots. We were actually talking about more than 125. And surgical tape from my shoulders to my waistband. Meanwhile, I'll be here until Monday with my entire back looking like the result of an alien attack, and trying to bathe without getting it wet.

Short of the bugs'n'honey diet, I'm beginning to feel much in common with John the Baptist and his hair shirt.

In short, it's not nice. It's a little too warm, very, very itchy, and a constant reminder of my evil deeds through shopping.

the chasm between kids and no kids

"Mango is awesome." they said as I walked up to join the conversation at the buffet table at that baby shower over the weekend. "You know, Penelope Cruz and her sister design a line for the store."

"I think my sister shops there," I said, "I think there might be one in Galway."

"They're in the large city centres," they said, nodding wisely, "Paris, London - it's probably in Dublin."

"But Zara's really gone downhill," someone else said, "just in time for us to get one."

"But whyyyyy can't we have an HandM?" came the moan.

The host's greeting to me as I came in the front door? "Ha!!" She yelled, seeing that we were wearing the exact same shirt in different colours, "Love the COSTCO!!!"

Where has all the cleavage gone??

long time passing..... (and my apologies to Mr. Seeger.)

So after the BBV debacle, I have tried it again - the buying of the supportive undergarment. Seriously - have they gotten way bigger in the fit, or is it just me? No wait. Don't answer that.

I'm am now just on the edge of being able to shop in a normal store - having to ask for a ridiculously small bandsize (one I wore in junior high, no less) but in an place in the alphabet not usually connected with well, supportive undergarments one could possibly buy in a normal store. I'm kinda at the place where I have to just accept what they have and call it mine, if I'd like to buy something to wear under my shirt. And add a 'stretcher' - which is a super sexy add on bit with extra hooks, because I am apparently between sizes - one up will result in me cursing the stupid thing in a week, as it waltzes all over my ribcage, and without the super-hot old-lady accessory, let's just say the current size reveals quite an impressive display of underarm and back 'wings'. Smokin'.

Bleagh. Underwhelming.

On the upside, however, I no longer have to wear safety goggles for protection when I run. So there's that.

On the downside? Well, I no longer have to wear safety goggles for protection when I run, I guess.

Springing forward

So there I was, putting my hair into what passes for a ponytail these days (the regrowth from the post MasterP shed is now at the length that it sticks directly off my head in all directions in a fuzzy aura. I try to tame it down with product and a headband, but even the grippy ones slip off my oddly shaped noggin, leaving me with odder shaped hair. It's pretty fashionable, to say the least.), when I realized that some of my highlights were still visible, despite being done oh, lets say, MasterP + 7 days ago.

Only then, upon closer inspection I realized that they weren't my salon highlights.

They were my "natural, platinum highlights."

oooooh. See, it was cool, there, for a while, when I was pretending that I was doing it to be in solidarity with the mostly pepper salt and pepper BigBrother during the trip north this summer - but now, there they are. All grown out and looking like highlights.

sigh.

I know Victoria's Secret, and you should too.

I'm a fairly brand loyal person. When I find something that works, I tend to keep using it. In the past, I found that to be so with Victoria's Secret's Body by Victoria line. And, because I am who I am, I like things to match. So I buy, and wear, things in sets.

This should not be a surprise.

After years of wear, my trusty everyday BBV's had started to wear. They're a little stretched, and a little pilly, so when the semi-annual sale came around in December, I stocked up, and bought enough matching things that they shipped them free to Mrs. Maiden's winter home. (Not having to ship to Canada? Priceless!!)

After a few days of wear of the set, however; it became apparent that something was not right. I stopped wearing them.

At a recent pedicure, I showed my waist (the part of my torso I was willing to expose in the salon) to Wondermom, who pronounced what she saw to be "not hives, but chemical burns." They are red welts the size of a finger print. Everywhere the seams of the underwear and bra touched. Think straps, underwires, band, waistband....

They've been there for almost a month and are still visible. I'm breaking out in places I usually do not require undergarments - my thigh, the middle of my back, my elbow.

I called VS to complain on Sunday night, at which time Barry (real name used) informed me that despite the fact that he had worked for VS for over 6 years, and this was one of their main sellers, he had never, ever heard of my problem before.

Barry, I'm pretty sure you're lying. I looked it up.

Victoria's Secret is that her bras and underwear contain Formaldehyde. Formaldehyde, my dears.

Giant, red scaly welt causing formaldehyde. They know it, and they keep selling them to you.

Just so you know. Tell your friends.

Amusing myself.

I'm not sure what I was thinking, but Husband was away and I was on my own. Instead of doing a run or any of the other things that could lead to my own good health, I sat on the couch and watched others search for theirs.

Specifically, episodes of Bulging Brides and Last 10 Lbs Boot Camp (which, I feel, might be a misnomer. They are not at the end of a process.)

The concept of a huge amount of work which leads to specific results. Inspiring.

Such that I was so influenced that I thought - what the heck. It's not that great a number between the wedding day and now.....

Yes, yes it was. Tony could have snapped me and my unhappy face for the inspirational 'before' photo, gaps and all.

But on the upside - I found the serape/wrap the Matrix gave me 10 years ago - and it did remind me just how gorgeous my wedding dress was. But it looks like I've got a ways to go if I'm going to wear it to my high school reunion.

Hee. What?

More conversations with Mrs. Maiden

You know, I thought she got it. I did.

I was telling her, early on, of the differences in culture between program and policy.

And then? At Christmas, she told me how she was looking for elegant things for me to wear to my new executive position.

'It's really not executive, mom', I said 'It's actually farther, kind-of. I'm no body's boss anymore...'

'Oh,' she said, 'I know that - but it's dressier, you said?' 'right.' I said, thinking of them, 'yeah. that's right.'

So then I received the package. There's a lovely bracelet, to blind them, and a shirt which had been described to me as 'terribly elegant'. Well. Uh. Um, I'm trying to think of how to work it in. It's 'washable suede'. Not a fabric I see that often here. So anyhow, thanks, Mom, really. Thanks. I really, really appreciate it.

But the real clarity on the lack of clarity? Oh, that happened Monday, when we had the following exchange. 'Is your office the type of place you could wear a really fancy Valentine's Day vest?' 'nnnnoooooooooooo.' 'oh. Because I found two (!) at the St. Vincent de Paul and bought them both.'

Now. I must admit that in the 13 seconds it took me to finish that word, I also thought of suggesting that Mindy Dallas, being a teacher like she is, would most certainly appreciate a gift such as that.

Just me. Payin' it forward....

More lessons in culture shock

Moving from the small office building of oh, somewhere in the hundreds in population to the office complex with somewhere close to twice the population of the town I grew up in is fun.

Really. It's fun. Especially for a people-watcher such as myself.

I've felt the need to create PSAs - for example, aimed at the lady last summer who was sporting the skirt that might have been from a few seasons back. It was apparently higher waisted than when she first bought it, and yet, the slit was in the same place it used to be, only, as you might imagine with the rise in waist, a corresponding, and truly, truly unfortunate rise in slit had happened. We could call that one "Madam, we can see your ass cheeks, or: Please consider boyshorts for the workplace"

Or for the lady with the unusual chunks of colour in her otherwise white hair "I'm not sure that you should let your berry-loving bird friend sit on your head while you watch scary movies"

But the PSA aimed at me? Well, it might be titled "there's a subtle but clear difference between the way ladies who are paid to organize and deliver things and ladies who are paid to be theoretical dress." Huh. Not quite as catchy as the last two. But probably an important one to watch. I mean, I wear boyshorts and don't let birds sit on my head, so I'm probably ok there. But it's a different aesthetic. Like cool boots but no lipgloss. Dresses but no eye shadow.

Sadly, almost a Daphne vs. Velma thing.

I'm doing my best to blend, but old habits die hard. Today, I used my wiles to bend my provincial colleague to my will and sign an MOU he had been stalling on.

Do you think he'll respect me tomorrow?

Beauty tips, Katie style.

Now.

You know I love me my spanx. Love, love, love. I wear them now to pretty much any event that requires a dress. They're fabulous, AND a slip. All in one.

What I didn't love about them was the waist. It left a line, and uh, well, rolled a bit. And required some tugging throughout the evening. So you could see it under dresses. Which was the antithesis of the whole point of them.

So for Husband's cousin's wedding two weeks ago, I invested in the higher power. The ones that go all the way to your bra strap. (In my case, I think if I pulled hard enough, the top strap.)

But here's the deal. The thing with Spanx is that while they make you look sexy with your clothes on, they're remarkably unsexy on their own. Particularly if your beloved sees you putting them on.

There's not much that will change that for you.

EVEN IF THEY'RE CROTCHLESS. Spanx, I'm looking at you here. For ease when nature calls, the package said. I don't know about you, gentle reader, but I really, really don't mind pulling down my undergarments to pee. Especially if my business is put away such that I can sit down without a constant gentle reminder of the lack of secure covering.

Who the hell thought that was a good idea????