A Visit to Anthropologie and a Body Image Confession

**Read all the way to the end for the confession part.

Day Eight of my tugboat man’s departure and the retail therapy withdrawals kicked in this morning in a major way.

It was that old familiar itch. I knew I’d have to satisfy my habit — after the gym,  I headed over to The Forum in La Costa. There’s no better way to satisfy a craving than with Anthropologie‘s overpriced and overhyped goods.

I might be a shopaholic, but I’m a pragmatic one…

In keeping with the nautical theme started with my Hermès  ”La Rose des Vents” scarf, I discovered this amazing summer dress. I HAD TO HAVE IT.  Had to. Not even up for discussion.

This little darlin’ was comin’ home with me. I’ll wear it for my captain’s next welcome home, whenever that is, that is.

anthroanchorThis Windward Halter Dress is playfully adorned with schooners, anchors, and ships’ wheels in a lovely vintage-feeling pique fabric.

It manages to convey sweet and sexy at the same time. I was especially drawn to the  assymetically pleated bodice; a nice bit of design and technique.

Originally priced $148.00 — it was on sale for $99.00. I was warned that it runs large, so I tried on a size two and a size zero. Everyone agreed that the size two fit a little better all around, so I grabbed it.**

I’ll pair it with either a white blazer or a red silk and cashmere sweater from Barney’s, depending upon the weather and the occasion. I think this ensemble needs simple accessories: a strand of pearls and pearl stud earrings.

The dress is the star of this show, don’t you agree?

anchordress

I have espadrilles, but I’ll probably choose these
Chinese Laundry straw shoes with a little sparkle instead of the nude heels.
Totes adorbs, right?

Chinese Laundry shoes

**CONFESSION:
On a personal note, I bet I can guess what you’re thinking…I already know I have body image issues — I fully admit to it and embrace it. It’s just who I am, probably because of all the years of ballet. I refuse to buy any clothes larger than size two. The only way I’ll really be happy is in a DOUBLE ZERO like Victoria Beckham. I don’t want any therapy; I don’t want to change — it’s one of my little quirks and eccentricities. I’ve learned to love myself for it and deal with it. Don’t tell me how skinny I look; I won’t believe you anyway. And yes, I do eat–I’m not anorexic or anything (or I’d be a lot thinner!)

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Confessions of a Shopaholic

By way of my beautiful-as-a-movie star BFF Cowboys and Crossbones, I got tagged for Confessions of a Shopaholic which is totally and absolutely cool!

Who doesn’t know that I LOVE to shop? Anyone?

It doesn’t matter if it’s a thrift store, consignment shop, TJ Maxx, Ross Dress for Less, Target, or ChanelI love the process of shopping.

I love the colors;  I love to run my fingers through the racks and feel the texture of the fabrics. I can eyeball silk and cashmere from across the room.

Ahh yes, it’s time for another session of retail therapy.

Do you consider yourself a shopaholic?
No. Ha ha. Of course the answer is YES! I will shout it from the rooftops–I’m proud to be a shopaholic!

How would you classify your style?
Sparkles to sweat pants. It depends on what mood I’m in. For example, the launch of my little boat Princess Rosebud called for a nautical theme.Nautical attire

Cozy bedtime attire for sweet Hello Kitty dreams.

hello kitty pajamas and slippers

Or a sexy evening in vintage Valentino at home with the Captain…

vintage Valentino dress

What store can you not leave without buying something from?
I can’t leave Target without buying something. Marshalls and TJ Maxx too. Uh, and then there’s Anthropologie, and H&M. Ummm, the sale rack at Barneys. J. Crew. Geez, I guess I don’t leave many stores empty handed. Sorry, tugboat man!

Where do you find your best deals?
The Barneys outlet, sales racks everywhere, my secret consignment shop.

What designer are you willing to splurge on?
CHANEL CHANEL CHANEL. Chanel GST Black box

Can you hear the angels singing? Isn't it brills?

Can you hear the angels singing? Isn’t it brills?

Do you have a go-to shopping outfit?
It’s usually an all day event; sometimes I dress in skinny jeans and flat boots, and sometimes I dress like I came from the gym which I most likely did. As long as I have my Chanel, I’m a happy girl.

What is your guilty pleasure?
Shoes. Boots. Designer vintage. Jewelry. Diamonds. Opals. All jewelry. Everything is my guilty pleasure. That’s why I feel guilty! Seashells, too.

Via Spiga and Steve Madden (and ChaCha)
Black Boots

Lanvin and Jimmy Choo

Jimmy Choo and Lanvin

What is the one piece of clothing you can’t live without?
Besides my Chanel, I’d choose my skinny jeans from Anthropologie. Well, all of them if I’m being perfectly honest. I love all my clothes! Especially this Missoni sweater with those skinny jeans from Anthro.
missoni

Who is your style icon?
Don’t judge me, but it’s Blair from Gossip Girl and Hepburn and Erica from All My Children. I said not to judge me! Oh, and I love Stacey London.

These are my tugboat captain wife’s confessions.
Now it’s your turn.
TAG–YOU’RE IT!
These are the questions for you to copy and paste.

TheFurFiles
Rarasaur
Simply Stacia
Chewylicious
CalliesMariner 

Do you consider yourself a shopaholic?

How would you classify your style?

What store can you not leave without buying something from?

Where do you find your best deals?

What designer are you willing to splurge on?

Do you have a go-to shopping outfit?

What is your guilty pleasure?!

What is the one piece of clothing you can’t live without?

Who is your style icon?

Why are old men such assholes?

Old men, you are hereby put on notice: STOP PICKING ON ME BECAUSE I LOOK LIKE AN EASY TARGET ‘COS I’M ONLY FIVE FEET TALL! STOP BEING BITTER, RESENTFUL, SMELLY, DRIED UP OLD ASSHOLES!

old manThat grumpy neighbor, we all have one in our ‘hood, “Get off my lawn, you whippersnapper!”

There seems to be an epidemic of grumpy old men in beige shirts with beige windbreakers and stained beige slacks–you know the kind that are pulled up high and belted–so you get that burn-the-eyeballs, never-to-be-forgotten view of either 1. their Depends, or 2. a nasty old Vienna sausage (if you know what I’m sayin’)

They all seem to be farty and perpetually frowning; what happened to chivalry?

Ramming their damn shopping cart into me at Trader Joe’s, giving me the evil eye like I stepped in front of them just so they’d have to run me down. Like, really. “HELLO OLD DEAF THING, THE MOTHER F-ING SHOPPING CART IS EQUIPPED WITH WHEELS AND A HANDLE SO YOU ARE ABLE TO STOP BEFORE YOU TAKE OUT MY ANKLES.”

Can you hear me NOW?

I’m on a roll. I’m ranting and rolling. Old men are horrible drivers. Old women are pretty awful too, but they seem to be less hostile.

In my town old men drive with the rage of a thousand Clint Eastwoods.

They tailgate, and pedal to the metal with lead feet left over from the big war, WW2, when cars were cars and men were men. Or something.

They cut you off, they obey ZERO traffic laws, and blast the horn with the same sort of zeal as if they’re masturbating it. HONK HONK HONKHONKHONK HONNNNNKKKKKK.

For the most part when I have these encounters, it’s invariably  when my tugboat man is out to sea and I must deal with it myself, either by ignoring their bad behavior or by being assertive, or by majorly unleashing my previously leashed INNER BEEYOTCH.

If their impulse control clearly functions when I’m accompanied by a “man”, why does it fail when I’m by myself? 

This last time, hubs was there to defend his woman. when men stop being asholes

sceneclapperLet’s pretend this is Episode #24 of my TV sitcom, That Crazy Wife of a Tugboat Captain–a little bit Lucy, a little bit That Girl, a little bit Gossip Girl, and a little any Real Housewife of Anywhere, sprinkled with the best of Erica on All My Children.

Your basic fantasyland, that’s where I live.

Okie dokie.

FADE IN:

EXT. FITNESS CENTER – MORNING

Scantily clad gym members line the dingy hall. They’re waiting for the Spin class to be over and BootCamp to commence. All ages mingle, chat about the cold morning, aches and pains, boyfriend problems. At the front of the line is PRINCESS ROSEBUD–exuberant, this ageless chick sweats charm like an old-time movie star.

[Backstory: The line forms because there's a sign on the doors to the group class room admonishing members to wait until previous class is over before entering.]

An older, late sixty-ish, flaccid muscled man in an unwashed sleeveless t-shirt (also called a wife beater) with a few dry hairs trying but failing to cover his liver spotted scalp, bumps into Princess Rosebud and pushes his way into the room.

Under the aggressive gaze of twenty PMS-y, peri- and post-menopausal women plus a few actually normal men, he places his water bottle and towel on the floor directly in the spot Princess Rosebud has always claimed for her own. While the spin class is STILL in session, he proceeds to set up steps and risers for himself and another.

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
OH NO HE DINT.

Outrage erupts up and down the line.

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
OMG, Did you see that? Did you see what he did?

RANDOM GIRL WITH SHOES THAT ARE TOES
I can’t believe he pushed you. He can’t do that. I’m going to say something to him.

RANDOM OLDER LADY WITH GRAY HAIR
There’s a sign! We’re all standing here to be respectful of the other class!
We follow the rules, he should too! Does anyone know him?

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
What an asshole. That’s MY spot. Everyone knows I’m in line first ‘cos I take that right upper quadrant. It’s the spot of most mirrors and least germs.

ANOTHER RANDOM OLDER LADY WITH GRAY HAIR
What happened, what did I miss?

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
Remember last week? That’s the same guy who pushed me out of the way at the jelly weight bins and tried to grab the eight pound weight (the yellow ones) out of my hand.

Scene of the first hostile encounter jelly weight bins

FLASHBACK TO THE PREVIOUS WEEK’S ENCOUNTER WITH NASTY OLD MAN
I tightened my hold on the weight, stood my ground, and gave him my best squinty look like, It’s on, old man. High noon behind the gym. Bring it. You’ll get that weight when you pry it from my cold, dead hand. He backed off then, but I sensed further trouble down the road and here it was.     END FLASHBACK


TUGBOAT MAN WALKS UP, HAVING CHANGED INTO WORKOUT GEAR

What’s going on? Why’re you looking at me that way?

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
Where have you been? Didn’t you see? it was that old man, you know, the one I told you about, the one that tried to grab the weights out of my hand last week!

TUGBOAT MAN
What did he do?

PRINCESS ROSEBUD
LOOK
! She points inside the room, which by now has erupted into chaos, a gaggle of women surrounding the old man, pointing to the signs clearly stating the gym policy.

He pushed me and took our spot! I’m out of here, he ruined my bliss.,
I’m gonna go upstairs to work out on the Stairmaster and weight machines.

TUGBOAT MAN
No, don’t go. Wait here. I’ll say something to him. That’s just not right.
What is it with old men, anyway?

My knight in shining armor came to my rescue!my knight in shining armor

VOICE OVER NARRATION
What is it? Is there a switch that turns a (probably) normal guy into a crabby, belligerant unpleasant person?  is it the slipperly slope of the effects of lowered testosterone levels? Too many episodes of  erectile dysfunction? Ran out of Cialis? Pipes clogged?

PuppetMcCain-scale

Maybe there IS a reason why aging men are so unpleasant to be around. According to Innovative Men’s Health…for MEN, there is something similar that happens as we age called andropause. Andropause is the male version of menopause but is much more insidious (happens slowly over time) and it can happen slowly enough that you only notice it after several years or someone else points out there you seem different. Some guys seem to hit a breaking point where their low testosterone level seems to catch up with them and they all of a sudden start having symptoms, such as erectile dysfunction.

The grumpy old man syndrome is an example of how important adequate testosterone is for brain function. It is like PMS for men but it is ALL the time! Testosterone has an affect on brain function and low testosterone increases your risk of getting Alzheimer’s disease.
END  VO

BACK TO EPISODE #24

TUGBOAT MAN
Walks over to the old man.
Look, man. You can’t go around pushing women out of your way.
That’s not the right way to treat women.
That was my wife you pushed and I don’t appreciate it.

OLD MAN
Throws hands up in the air in a supplicating gesture.
Okay, Okay, I get it. I get it. I heard it from everyone already.
{sarcastically} What am I supposed to do, apologize to her?

TUGBOAT MAN
Nah, that’s not necessary, dude. Just be more of a gentleman to the ladies.
You don’t need to be an asshole.

TUGBOAT MAN reaches out a hand to shake the hand of the nasty old man. The old man accepts the gesture, shakes,  and…class begins.

FADE OUT.

indoor-fitness-boot-camp-classes-now-forming

Today is a boot-nanza and a boot-tacular day!

All my whining and whinging and going on ad nauseum about how poor little me can’t find the perfect black boot and my stingy hubs won’t let me spend $2,000.00 on those Chanels HAS FINALLY COME TO AN END!

I have closure, I have fulfillment, I have reached my bootgasm. Aaaahhh. And it feels AY-MAY-ZING!

Since he left on Monday my tugboat man has taken three flights and an eight-hour boat ride to reach his ultimate destination. Sworn to secrecy, I can’t tell where, but let’s just say it’s remote. 

Enough about him. On to ME and MY day.

I’m back on the horse, all systems go; a protein drink for energy in my belly, and I’m off to SHOP!!!

After spending Tuesday cleaning like a madwoman and falling asleep after New Girl, my shopping desire became a hunger that rose with the sun. Instead of going to Pilates, I left the house at 9:45 a.m. in order to arrive at Nordstroms Rack at 10:00 a.m. Right on time for the opening, I  snapped a pic of my morning mecca. Blue sky, palm trees, great parking spot.

Life. Is. Good.nordrack

With a single-minded determined march to the footwear department, I surveyed the landscape like a five-star general. Shoes to the left, boots to the right. On to victory!

 nordaislenordaisle2There were a couple of other women in the same size area. I usually wear a 5 or a 5  1/2. It just depends. I grabbed a bunch of boots to stake my claim, just in case they got there first. It was woman against woman and “boot war” rules apply. It wasn’t quite the kind of madness you’d find at a Kleinfeld’s clearance, but we were circling each other; wary, squinting, attempting to strategize while seeming nonchalant. I know all the tricks, beeyotches!

bootsnord

Cinderella (me) tried on many boots–and shoes too, duh, who’re we kidding? I spent two hours in that one part of Nords–and this is what I came out with; not one, but two pair of boot! (Notice the entirely gratuitous shot of my Grand Shopper Tote CHANEL?)

The black boots are Via Spiga. I feel very empowered and beeyotchy in them, a sure sign that they contain the MAGIC. They fit snugly around the calf, which I love, ‘cos most boots are too roomy. Motorcycle cop, anyone? Or polo in the Hamptons? And then I couldn’t help but get the second pair. They are just so darn CUTE with those little studs. I feel like a TOUGH gang chicka. The color is cognac and they’re Steve Madden. I love shorty boots with dresses. Adorbs with an attitude, don’t you agree?

newboots boots2

For the final coup of the day, I went next door to Marshalls (!) and found these…COULD. NOT. RESIST.hkshoes

That’s my day, how’s your Wednesday?

haters

In which Princess Rosebud embarks upon a magical journey

mermaid ”TO THE SEA…TO THE SAILORS OF OLD…TO THE SEA!

It always has been intended that a proper christening and the accompanying ceremony ensures good fortune to the lady and her crew throughout the life of the vessel.

Please join us for the (virtual) christening of our New Haven rowing dory. Champagne and hors d’ouvres will be served.

My tugboat man spent his six weeks home (between surf sessions) restoring a neglected and dilapidated vessel who just needed a little love to sparkle and shine.
(Don’t we all…)

This New Haven rowing dory benefited from a much needed facelift. He sanded and sanded and sanded every day, patched holes, went to Home Depot–alone, thank goodness–and constructed new railings (or whatever they’re called.) And varnished.boatbefore boat during restoration

Why yellow? Hubs chose the color because it’s one of his favorites (it’s our kitchen color, too)  and because he says it’s an appropriate choice for this type of boat. He saved the best part for me; declaring that every girl should have a boat named after her…paintedboatnoname

What’s her name? Here’s a hint…
princess rosebud in the sand

The makeover is complete…THE FINAL REVEAL!

bestpicboat
mermaidboat

We took her out for a splash–a sea trial–in the lagoon that’s about three blocks from our house. I won’t even try to pretend that I did any rowing, but I did pack a nice lunch. He insisted that I remove the little mermaid (look closely and you’ll see that she’s wearing pearls, too) but if I find a really cool figurehead in an antique shop, he’ll mount it on the prow.

(I’m laughing–I said mount–I’m really never gonna grow up!)

Here I am in an appropriately nautical outfit: Joe’s skinny jeans, striped shirt from Banana Republic, and a cashmere/silk sweater from Barney’s. I took off my Captain mandated life vest for the pic. Check out my nautical Hello Kitty hat hkhatand the string of pearls. I’ll be the first to say it–hair’s gone a bit frizzy, oh well, everything can’t be perfect all the time. I used a new conditioner from Chi–one I won’t be using again, that’s for sure. Ignore the hair, those are Chanel sunglasses, beeyotches!

meonboat

Our lagoon and a very weird sky…

beautifullagoon

My wonderful captain rowed us to a secluded beach for our romantic picnic. I’ll NEVER tell where it is!

boatonbeach

The seagull who ran off with part of our lunch.seagullateourfood

My hero! He didn’t dress for the part like I did, but then, he did all the work, and I just had to sit there and look pretty.my rowing captain

A white egret in the marshwhiteegretlagoon

Raccoon prints!raccoonprintlagoon

Coyote prints!coyoteprintlagoon

At sundown we invited our neighbors over for a christening party.
I found Princesa champagne! Very appropriate, no?
partytable2

meatchristening

Hi, wish you all could have joined us!

We read this as everyone gathered around (and yes, I made everyone follow the script, raise their glasses, and toast ME!)

“For thousands of years, we have gone to sea. We have crafted vessels to carry us and we have called them by name. These ships will nurture and care for us through perilous seas, and so we affectionately call them “she.” To them we toast, and ask to celebrate Princess Rosebud.” “TO THE SAILORS OF OLD…TO PRINCESS ROSEBUD!”

Everybody takes a sip.

“The moods of the sea are many, from tranquil to violent. We ask that this vessel be given the strength to carry on. She is strong and will keep out the pressures of the sea.” Again the glasses are raised, and the assemblage shouts, “TO THE SEA…TO THE SAILORS OF OLD…TO THE SEA!”

Everybody takes another sip.

“Today we come to name this lady, Princess Rosebud,  and send her to sea to be cared for, and to care for her family. We ask the sailors of old and the mood of the sea to accept Princess Rosebud as her name, to help her through her passages, and allow her to return with her crew safely. ” Again with the raising of the glasses, “TO THE SEA…TO THE SAILORS BEFORE US…TO PRINCESS ROSEBUD!”

A last, long sip by all.

Finally, we sprinkled a few drops of  champagne over the bow to appease King Neptune, and laid a branch of green leaves on the deck to ensure safe returns.boatwithcandle

And thus ends another day in the life of Princess Rosebud.

Guurrrlllz, please tell Anne Hathaway to cover her lady parts!

hathaway malfunction

OOPSY DAISY

I guess my life’s not so bad. I haven’t done an Anne Hathaway or a Brit-ney. Ever. My lady parts haven’t ever been introduced to the world that way. Not yet, anyway. I even had a c-section; no human being has even luged down that tunnel. But who knows what I’ll do to get more blog or Twitter followers!  Seriously, Anne, gurllfriend.  Please wear undies or keep your legs together–or both. Pull-eaze. Have you ever done the “look in the mirror” thing to get in touch with your femaleness? Ick.

Actually, it was a disaster coming and going. I thought Rachael Zoe was her stylist. Was Rach too busy at QVC to care about that important deet? Who put that parachute on her back? It was a Tom Ford gown and he designed the bondage shoes, too. They say he used vegan leather. Are you telling me a poor carrot or a poor eggplant died so Anne could have a pair of shoes?

anne hathaways dress

parachute or backpac

planets alignedSo…you might remember a while back when all the planets were aligned for me and I got the vintage Valentino and that handbag, and I was skipping through my days throwing a little enchanted fairy dust to the right and to the left, la la la. Well, it all came to a crashing halt.

 

That’ll be on tomorrow’s installment of Enchanted Confessions. Stay tuned–

 

A lost opportunity, a huge regret, a haunting feeling

During one of my healing retail therapy sessions in the shoe aisle at Nordstrom, an older (and by older, I mean WAY older than me, like late sixties) well groomed beautifully dressed lady was sitting nearby trying on a pair of boots. She had a scarf around her neck that you could tell simply by looking that it was woven of the highest quality cashmere. She had a lovely air of grace and elegance. I think it was that regal essence that reminded me of my mom. She owned that quality too, always dressed head to toe with class.  The woman looked so together that I couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at her while I too tried on boots. I’d been looking for a pair of flat riding boots that fit snugly but weren’t too high, which is a tall order. (ha ha). I’ve never been accused of dressing elegantly. Sexy, flamboyant, stylish, wild even–but never Lilly Van der Woodsen Upper East Side elegant. Lilly van der woodsenHere’s an example of me getting dressed… If one pearl necklace is good, a dozen is better! A ring for every finger, well, why not? We have ten of them, isn’t that what they’re for? And aren’t our arms just begging to be filled with every bangle and charm bracelet in the jewelry box?

My mom would shake her head and say, “Princess Rosebud, haven’t you heard the old saying, less is more?” My response to her was, “Haven’t YOU heard of my saying, more is better?”

So I’m sitting there and this lovely woman is sitting there and she turns to me and says softly, matter-of-factly,

“My husband died last week.”

What do you do when a stranger opens up that way? What do you do? I said,

“I am so very sorry for your loss.”

She continued,

“We had been married for fifty years. I don’t know what to do with myself so I shop all day. I can’t bear to be home alone without him.”

If anyone could empathize with that philosophy, it would be me. Not that I’ve lost my life partner, but when my darling thirteen-year-old kitty died, I felt the same way. I left the house early in the morning and stayed away ’til dark, wandering around the shopping centers like a lost soul. I couldn’t bear to open the front door and know that I’d never again see her face at the top of the stairs greeting me. I couldn’t bear to sleep in our bed and never again feel her jump up and scratch at the covers to join me, nestled against my body, so I slept on the sofa until the captain came back. What made it even more difficult to bear was that it happened while he was out to sea, and I was the one who was unanchored, aimlessly drifting. I totes understood the poor lady’s pain.

“He made every day worth living.”

I asked her if she had family in the area to help her with her sadness, and she shook her head. It was on the tip of my tongue to invite her to join me for a cup of coffee when when my cell rang. It was my son. He needed me to run to the post office before it closed and send him a book he had accidentally left behind the previous week.

As I walked away, I touched her gently on the shoulder and told her once again how sorry I was for her loss and I hoped she’d be all right.

I really, really regret not getting her name and telephone number so that we could meet at a coffee shop or simply make sure she’s OK. I have a feeling she might not be. I do have that feeling. I’ve never seen her again.

For the most part, women are a truly and deeply caring and nurturing community. I dropped the ball that day and it haunts me.  It haunts me.

VINTAGE VALENTINO FIND, y’all

The universe is dropping some love on me today, that’s for sure. Ommmm. After the gym, I stopped at my secret source consignment shop…somewhere in SoCal…I’ll never tell. But I bet DIL knows which one I went to. OMFG, first I spied the red polka dots (and I’m a sucker for polka dots), and then I looked at the label. Vintage Valentino-fur reals. Then I looked at the price. $40. Forty dollars, are you serious??? Finally I tried it on, and it fits. It’s too good to be true! It’s two pieces. The dress is a sort of a halter top, but very intricate. The top is a snug fit with a flowy skirt, enough to hug the curves but not to make anyone think you’re trying to hide a big belly or some of that good old menopause paunch. The long-sleeved coat is absolutely stunning with handmade fabric buttons. It’s silk, of course, and that famous Valentino red. So well made, it puts my Target outfits to shame. Now I have the perfect outfit to wear for the captain’s arrival! Check out the label–I was telling the truth.

By special request

Cowboys and Crossbones and a few others have requested pix of the new addition to our family: my Grand Shopper Tote Chanel.  I appreciate any opportunity to show off; I’m a proud mama. She went on her first outing today, first to Target, then Trader Joe’s, and up the street to Anthropologie, B/W Market, and Nicole Miller. At each location, I was treated with so much more respect and deference than usual, when I carried my old Louis Vuitton. Peasants! I’m the same girl who wears bleach stained sweats and old Yale shirts with so many holes they wouldn’t even be useful as rags. Please enjoy these pix and thank you for your interest!

ImageImageImageImageImage