Update on Bathroom

We are now looking for a new toilet--for the downstairs bath, alas, not the upstairs (which needs both a new floor and a new toilet). The husband is in charge of this project. Installing toilets is dead simple even when you have to replace the flange. We can't even tell what kind of condition it's in. We can tell it's brass. I have a horrible feeling I will take on the nasty job of cleaning it so we can see how bad it is.

I did mention how it was "too bad" that we were replacing the toilet that "wasn't the worst"--and after the husband pointed out that the bowl of the one downstairs is cracked and so is the lid of the tank, I said, "Yes, but someone tried to paint the upstairs toilet (yes, they did) and it's a flaky mess (it is), the paint is peeling off the aluminum tank top, and the inside of the bowl is gross and the thing oozes green slime (it does).

Later, much later, he says, "well, after we've replaced this toilet, maybe it won't be so hard to replace the one upstairs."

Puh-leeze. Make it so.

Sartorical Sabbatical: By Request

I asked my daughter where her dress-up games are. She showed me. There are five pages of them here. I'm sure one will have a tiara. (Apparently Lizzie McGuire and Barbie also have dress-up).


In other news: It looks like we're putting down a new bathroom floor today. Nothing exciting, just white vinyl tile.

Sartorical Sabbatical Part Two: Playing Dress Up.

Remember I said I wanted to play Fashionista Barbie?
I harbour a secret, more intense, love for paper dolls.

I nearly fell over when I saw my daughter playing with them on-line, but this one, I believe is one for the grown-up girls. (No tiaras). Please, meet Charlotte

You assignment (should you choose to accept it): Create your own favourite version of Charlotte and post it!

Sartorical Sabbatical: A Quiz

Which are you more likely to serve for Sunday supper?
A. Roast Chicken with home grown vegetables and fresh parsley
B. Take-out.
C. Capons with home-made chutney.
D. Cooked chicken from the supermarket and pre-bagged salad.

On Mondays you--
A. Do the laundry, of course.
B. Dahling, have you never heard of a laundry service?
C. Read. At last, the kids are back in school.
D. Shop.

When you wash the floors you
A. Use a mop
B. Sweep up for the cleaning lady.
C. Hand and knees. It's the only way to get them really shiny.
D. Are they dirty?

Your most favourite gift in the world would be
A. Tickets to the Folk Festival.
B. A hefty gift certificate to a fabulous restaurant.
C. A hefty gift certificate to your favourite second hand book shop
D. Tickets to a play.

Your favourite vacation spot is
A. In the mountains with your family.
B. Paris. or India.
C. London
D. The shopping Mall of America

A treasured evening would be:
A. Teaching my daughter to knit.
B. A jazz concert
C. Oh, anywhere is fine. As long as we get out of the house.
D. Upstairs.

At a party, you tend to talk to people who are
A. organizing the next drive for the local food bank
B. witty
C. we get to talk to other people?
D. wearing great shoes

In your living room you have
A. Great Grandmother's antiques.
B. The Petrie sofa.
C. A Danish teak sideboard.
D. A bar, of course.

A Tale of the Mall and Other Monsters

I've been thinking for most of the week about my "status symbol" --or the thing we want people to know about us, instantly, by our clothes, when they see us.

For me, truly and honestly, it would have to be "strength." Even though it's rather unbiblical of me (remember, it's the meek who inherit...), I have always coveted the image of being capable, independent, and strong. If you go back and read my post here, you see that what I exulted in was my body's strength and power. Then, I just made the physical reality reflect the newly discovered truth and new found attitude.

But it kills me to admit this, to you, to myself, to anyone; but, I am not strong. My feet and back problems have made me into such a mess that my daughter exclaims with surprise when I run and jump over a puddle, or hustle in out of the rain. "Mommy, you're running!" she shouts at the top of her lungs. "I've never seen you run before." And although uttered with all the hyperbolic certainty of a seven year old, still, it is true.

And that truth hurts more than I can say.

I need people too. I haven't had any close friends in years--only in the last three or four has it begun to bother me. The thing is, at this time of life, it's kind of difficult to find them.

I went shopping, today. Alone. I went to Sears to track down those winter coats. I didn't find them. The coat section was absolutely crammed and I needed help. I had to find a salesperson. She helped me as minimally as possible. I guess I had been rather abrupt with her, 'cause when she found me the size I'd been searching for, she said to me, "Are you happy now?" All the while nattering on about how I'd missed the sale this morning when every coat was 50% off until 2pm. (And of course, I was there at 4:30.)

I settled on a coat (a different one), and wandered into another section looking for a turtleneck. Tried one on. Marched into the Land's End section practically hobbling. Not a salesperson in sight. I settled on a few things to try on and tried to ignore the prices. In the end, I just couldn't. I left two sweaters and a button down blouse on another rack and hobbled out. (Usually I return items back where I take them from, but I could barely walk at this point. And I was still carrying the new coat).

So, I bought the coat (probably the only coat in the whole store NOT on sale), came home, modeled it for my husband and he says, "It's not as elegant as the ones you looked at on-line."

So, I got it wrong. It'll go back tomorrow. But that's not the point of this story. (sorry). The point of the story was that the coat (with tax) cost $180.17.

It was too much. Not that anyone but myself says so, you understand. But I was and am absolutely riddled with guilt and remorse that I spent so much money on myself. I told my husband there was no way I could spend that much...really, it was OK, my coat with the burned hole is OK. It fits, it keeps me warm...I don't need a new coat. He scoffed. Told me it was hideous. Really, I suppose the trip back to the store tomorrow is to have my husband bolster my self-esteem and self-image. Maybe we'll find something "more elegant," maybe we won't. But his approval of the coat will mean he approves of the way I look.

So, in light of all that, Wende brought me to tears with this:

part of owning our own style is surely being thankful for our bodies in their incredibly varied sizes, shapes, and proportions. The important thing is not to meet someone else's criteria for beauty or style -- the important thing is to be good at being ourselves.

I can't do it.

Frumpy Footware

See these amazing Oscar de la Renta boots?
My footwear isn't like that.


Of all the folks doing wardrobe therapy, of all the folks who will ever do WT, I think it's safe to say I have the most boring collection of shoes and boots in the universe.


1. Pile

Stalwart Staples: (3/3)
-- 1 pair of runners (cross trainers).
-- 1 pair of low-heeled black winter boots.
-- 1 pair of sandals. (I wear these as my "slippers" in winter because they are super heavy duty sandals. I bought them in the "sports" section of Canadian Tire. They're essentially Velcro straps integrated with a rubber tire. They're meant for people when they go canoeing and camping and such, not for ladies who lunch.)

Velveteen Rabbits (5/3)
There were a few surprises here. I'd forgotten I still had these shoes.

--1 pair of moccasins with a solid sole (necessary for my foot problems). The lining is coming out.

--1 pair of backless red suede clogs.(The original crocs). Very comfortable (when my feet feel OK) but the suede is badly damaged. I'm going to see if I can restore them.

--2 pairs of runners (cross trainers). I examined the wear on the treads very closely before I tossed them and indeed you can see the progression of first the right foot and then the left slowly falling down at the heel and to the inside of my foot.

----A pair of burgundy(!) trouser shoes in a style I can't even describe. They also have a bit of a heel (but it is solid to the shoe) and they are quite comfortable. But they are badly scuffed at the toe.


Same Time Next Year (1/0?)
--1 pair of yellow-beige heels (well, not to Wende as they are less than 2 inches) that I have always hated but always wear when I need a heel. They have a squared off pointy toe and a square opening to the foot.

Sentimental Favourites (1/0?)
The patent leather heels I bought 25 years ago. If they fit, I'd wear them. I got "classic" absolutely right when I spent a month's worth of groceries on them way back then.

And that's it.

Gaps:
--a decent, comfortable basic shoe to wear with pants and dresses when I can wear something other than my runners. I may go windows(tm) shopping for these.

--a pair of dressy shoes.

--a sandal for summer that doesn't look like I'm going to launch a boat in them.

Priority:
The basic shoe to be worn with pants or dresses. We are actually going out to a "Christmas play" this coming Friday and I'd like a new pair of shoes to wear with my dress. It's kind of silly, as most of us usually keep our winter boots on, but I hate doing that, as my feet get really hot after an hour or so. So, I'll look and see if I can find anything that will 1) take an insole for proper support and 2) satisfy my craving for a "nice" pair of shoes that will make me feel like a lady. I want them to be both "dressy" and suitable for pants.

These would obviously be dressy and make me feel like a lady:


Yes! Betsey Johnson saddle shoes. I know just the kind of dress I'd put with them too. But, I'd never wear it! And I have the strongest urge to go play with my daughter's Barbies, now!

Jackets and Hats and Gloves, oh my...

image courtesy of the city of New Haven.

Well, it's here. And it isn't going anywhere until March.

I need a new coat. Actually, I needed it last year when the year before that I burnt a small hole right at the left breast when I foolishly propped up a hot stick against it while unwrapping bannock from another hot stick, just roasted over an open fire.

You understand we're are not talking about a cute little pea coat, or even an adorable wool wrap coat, or even the lovely car coat CWAM found at leRedoute. Nu uh. We're talking wrap me up tight, don't let a breath of air bite, shroud me from head to bottom, cause brrr winter is rotten. (And now you know why I don't write poetry for a living.)

Of course, I do live in a modern city where I get around in my car: so the coat can't be too long. Just to the tops of my thighs is the best compromise between standing and freezing my tush or sitting on the blasted coat, unable to move. (The car I currently drive is even properly ventilated and heated. In my old Toyota I would have welcomed a coat down to my toes. I used to wrap a shawl around my legs to keep the draft from the door from freezing my legs. But that was before the heater broke. Then, I used a blanket. Aaaah, for the days when I was young and single and couldn't afford either car maintenance nor winter coats but could take off with no notice to anyone to Chicago or Toronto or...but I digress.)

So, to the coats then. These will be the most boring coats you will have ever seen. Scb will understand. While we analyse how close the hood stays to the top of the head and scrutinize whether there is room for a toque; while we peer at the front closure and imagine ourselves as blasts of icy air trying to find a way in; as we scrutinize the pockets--are they big enough to hold the toque and the gloves when you take them off in the store? the rest of you, well, it might be something like looking at paint chips. Gee, do I like blue, black or taupe rectangles?

All of these are from Sears.
My boots are black.
My current scarf is fuschia.

Contender #1

This is black with interesting swirls (honest). I love the micro fleece inner collar. Mmmm warm. But my scarf may not fit underneath. Not good. The zipper--whether metal or plastic gets cold and I don't want that sensation anywhere near my neck. The hood may have real fur or faux fur, I don't care. I've lived Up North, as they call it, where the fur trade is actually still a vital part of the economy. (But I'm not going there. This is not a political blog.) Fur around the face keeps the frost off my wire glasses and my nose. Seriously. It would also keep it off my beard, if I had one. Fur is a plus. I'm not sure those pockets are big enough though.

Contender#2.
This is gorgeous. No fussy detailing. There's a zipper under those buttons. It has a hood, alas without fur. However, that makes it easier to slip my purse over my head. My scarf will fit nicely inside, wrapped tightly around my neck. The blue next to my face will be flattering to my rosy red cheeks. And I won't feel claustrophobic all bundled up in it. But is it long enough to protect my tush? And just how deep are those pockets anyway?

Contender#3

The big plus here, of course, is the big pockets. There are also two smaller ones in the chest region: perfect for carrying granola bars on our winter hikes. I can't tell, though, what's going on at the neck. Is that the inner lining, the coat, or is the model wearing a turtleneck? It also has a drawstring at the waist which helps keep that nasty wind from going up into and under your jacket. But, alas and alack, no hood.

Any of the coats above would go well with this toque from Roots:

Isn't that cute? A semi-stylish knitted toque. It wouldn't keep me as warm as this doozie though:

Isn't that just fabulous? A white fur trapper's hat--with ear flaps. I love it. Not sure it's actually wearable, though, except on those hikes. Taking it off when entering someplace warm might cause instant electrification and generate a dandelion halo effect to my hair.

But, this scarf sure is pretty:
Add this and a pair of black leather gloves to any of the jackets above and I may even, could even, dare I say, look good?