Capri Pants, or as I Like to Call Them…Agents of Satan

Everyone has his or her irrational fears and/or hatreds. My old roommate would not eat bread, as he could never find an actual point in history where it was invented. “When and why did man decide to beat grains, blend them with water and then bake the mush?” he asked.  Possibly he thought aliens sent it to us? I’m not sure. He also would never eat meat that had been cooked in its own juices. This gross description means that things like the ground beef in tacos or whatever meat you choose to bake into your lasagna had to be completely dried out with all oil and residual liquid (that does sound kind of bad) removed. He had no real reason for this one other than that it was gross to him. I think this falls into the category of irrational.
 
I on the other hand, have very rational hatreds. The top thing on the list is capri pants. The other things on the list are flip-flops, too tight t-shirts on anyone who has back fat rolls, and yard work. I will explain those in future posts; but for now I will focus on the number one offender.
 
Capri pants are the devil. I grew up thinking this as I am tall, 5′ 10ish, and would outgrow clothes quickly as a child. A new season would come around and I would try to fit into clothes from the previous year only to see that the pants were way past the “flood” stage. My mother called them pedal pushers but then would follow that with, “Get in the car we have to go shopping.” I thought the term was odd and I have always loved to shop so these kind of pants have always been wrong to me. The thing in your closet that needed to be replaced because it was broken.
 
People who know me are well aware of my complete avoidance of this so-called clothing. I say “so-called” as actually it is not a piece of clothing but a device planted by Satan to make women look like sh!t. Yes I said sh!t!  No other piece of clothing makes you look so bad so quickly. The point at which the pants end on your calves is the worst place pants or skirts can stop. If you have big calves they look even bigger and if you have skinny ones the rest of you looks like a blimp by comparison. Many of them are designed with tapered legs that give the immediate Humpty Dumpty effect. Tapered leg pants already have their own level in hell but when combined with capris it is the equivalent to fashion suicide. Who wants to accentuate the bigness of their bottoms? Maybe the Kardashians but I don’t even see those fame whores wearing them.
 
If you have a closet full of them don’t cry.  Simply pull out that credit card you have been saving for emergencies and get to shopping. Yes I said it and you have understood me correctly – Throw all of those things in the garbage. Why would you keep something around that makes you look so horrible? Would you wear a shirt that says “I am a squishy troll”? No? Well you are doing that very thing when you wear those pants. Let’s ditch them and make a more attractive you for the upcoming spring and summer months. 
 
You might be asking, “What are my options not that I have no bottoms left?” and my answer to that is EVERYTHING ELSE!!! Ankle length pants are really cute and are perfect to show off your cute new wedges, flats and sandals. Stick with a straight or slim leg with this one unless you are tall. Petite women in wide legged pants can look even shorter when these pants are worn. Full-length pants are also perfect for any body type. They can be found in all colors and the lightweight cotton and linen ones are always classic. 
 
Another option is skirts and there are so many cute options out there you should already have a few in your fashion arsenal. Once again, you are going to want to go with any length that doesn’t stop mid-calf. That is the danger zone for both pants and skirts. The long jersey-knit ones are perfect and if your legs aren’t the most perfect (some of us are klutzes) these hide imperfections while allowing the breeze blow down there. 
 
Additional approved choices are Bermuda shorts and mid length shorts. I will come out and say that I am a modest girl who does not always want to flaunt what the good Lord and too many Oreos have given me. That being said I generally avoid the new trend of short-shorts. Call me an old fashioned fuddy-duddy but some things should be left to the imagination. 
 
I once Tweeted about my hatred of capris and got the most flack for it. One woman even said, “I am 5’7” and weigh 170 pounds. Should I not wear them?” Do you know how hard it was for me to hold myself back from typing “GOD NO” in all caps as a response? And to those people who cry, “But they are so comfortable!!!” I have this response – A pig flailing in its own feces is comfortable too but you’re not going to see that on the cover of Vogue now are you? 
 
Case closed.  

Summer Learning


Lesson I learned recently: You can never have too much bacon jam for noshing! 


As a child, the end of the traditional school year meant the beginning of my read-a-thon. “Read This Summer” was the rule that was given to us on the last day of school and I always dove into the task head first. I was a regular at the library, checking out the maximum number of books each visit and lusting over the Childcraft volumes which were in the reference section and sadly could not be borrowed. I spent my summer learning and it made the humid heat a little less painful. 


Now as an adult I try to learn new things, how to cook buttermilk biscuits and the easiest way to make a gusset in a purse I am sewing. I am no longer working within a school year so this learning occurs year-round; but somehow this summer I am once again diving headfirst into learning a few new tricks.

The first one is a Summer Dress E-Course offered by Whiptstich . Now through September I will be spending quite a bit of time behind my sewing machine praying to God I do not end up channeling my inner Denise Huxtable while trying to sew these three cute dresses. Gordon Gartrelle is not what I am going for here. (If you are drawing a blank on what in the world I am talking about watch this clip.)

The second opportunity to open my mind to knowledge will by sitting in a room with the beautifully blunt Hollis Gillespie once again. I have been wanting to gather up all of the pieces of my patchy blog/website and this will be the first step in making that dream a reality. The blogging workshops  are known for sending all of their participants in the right direction and if it is anything like the writing workshop I took last month, I know I will be more than pleased. 

Stay tuned for pictures of my (fingers crossed) dresses and a newer look to my website. 

Let the learning begin! 
My Coach and his Crocs

If the Shoe Fits

 My awesome Coach flats and Aaron’s tiny Crocs. 

My two year-old son is fashion conscious. I use the word “fashion” loosely as sometimes this is good, sometimes this is bad, and sometimes it is down right ugly. The good = Star Wars t-shirts. The bad = incessant robot t-shirts. The ugly = the Crocs pictured above! 

 
Some would say that the kid has clearly found his sense of style and he knows what he likes. His independence should be rewarded right?  That would be easy if he and his personal dresser/assistant (aka me) agreed on what is acceptable clothing. I have issues when it comes to some clothing and these issues are purely based upon my own opinions and perceptions. No fuchsia(kind of whorish), no capri pants(they make you look fat), no flip flops(not real shoes/make too much noise/and that thing between the toe is annoying). I am trying to not pass these hatreds onto our child . 
 
This morning I did not flinch when he, for the second day in a row, chose to wear the blue Crocs in the photograph above. Look how jaunty his stance is in the picture. It is as if he knows how to model a shoe. His grandmother bought him the shoes a while ago and until recently they have only been an around the house shoe. They are perfect for splashing in the kiddie pool and running around on the deck in the sunshine; but he has never stepped out into public in them. That is until this week. Truth be told they are very easy for him to put on and most of his classmates wear them. 
 
Could this be the first instance of Aaron trying to be like everyone else? Could I soon be asking the horribly cliche mom question, “If everyone else jumped off of a bridge would you?” Lord, I hope not. 
 
I love his Oscar shoes. His Grover shoes are really cute. The grey and the black Converse sneakers get my votes, but not these weird plastic shoes. As you can tell from my flats I like cute shoes, and rarely are they made from plastic or do they resemble something a troll would wear. But this is a kid’s foot and I am not the one wearing the shoes, so what is my problem? 
 
It is time for me to face the facts and realize that I am not going to like every choice the boy makes. The shoes are very comfy on his tiny feet, he likes blue, and they are water resistant. So water resistant that when he decided to pee his pants (did I mention he is now wearing underwear in an effort to potty train) the last two days we simply washed, rinsed and dried the shoes. 
 
Is it possible that Grandma knew this would happen when she bought them for him all those months ago? Thanks Grandma. I love you Grandma! And now I fear I kind of love those shoes too. 

Splashing in the rain

Learning What Pleases a Toddler

The sun is actually out today and I am very excited. The weather here has been crap for some time and we all are tired of it. The boy however thought it was awesome and couldn’t wait to get out in it this past weekend. Attempted distractions were aplenty, but eventually my husband said we should give up and let him go out into the rain. Of course that meant us going out into it also. 

Slapping puddles!

After 15 minutes Aaron had stomped every puddle outside, including the extremely muddy ones, at least five times. He fell into a few, the muddy ones, just for good measure. Then sheets of rain began, and we moved him from mud puddles to the bathtub where the remnants of play could be washed off while the splashing continued. Free fun and he was elated. The simple things that bring joy to a two year-old boy. 

My goal was to keep him inside and not face the elements but I lost that battle. Maybe it was not so much a loss but a drenched win I didn’t know I wanted.