D to the I Distraction: Derby Date

I finally had my date with the Kentucky Derby.  

Jealously perusing all the grandiose hat photos. And after that, enviously admiring the mouthwatering drinks sucked down by my 'brethren in the same tax bracket' sweating it out on the Infield.

This was my favorite.

Photo: Weasie Gaines

I tried really hard to choose something not red with sequins, but I couldn't.  I refuse to apologize.

When I'm 70, I am going to wear this one.

Photo: Weasie Gaines

And all the diamonds are going to be real and I am going to pull them off when I leave and give them out to the best DIY hats made by my drunk friends from the Infield that are now in a much lower tax bracket than I.

Just to add some non-red sequin diversity to the Derby mix, I will give out a few more awards.

Best Height: If my red number up top would have had the feather stature that this one does, I would have been completely smitten.

Photo: Liam Spradlin

Best Dressed Couple: It goes to the guy with the Charlie Chaplin hat and his lovely date.  I wonder what it would take to get my Anthony into something matchy like that?  I hope roofies are still around by the time that I can afford to attend the Derby.

Photo: Dan Dry / Power Creative

Best Infield couple:  "Guys Hung Like A Horse."  Like a dead, limp, lifeless horse.

Photo: Donald Vish

Best Derby Badass:  I want to be friends with her.

Photo: Weasie Gaines

Best DIY Hat:  I pray that it is actually DIY.  The base looks expensive, but that ribbon wrap around the wire stems is rough.  "A" for effort.  And what the hizzy, I will give her the award for 'Making Me Want To Get Into the Hat Business" too.

Photo: Andrew Kung

Best Hat for "I'm Going To Try and Nab a Rich Husband Here, and if I Wake Up in the Morning and Can't Find My Dress, Then I Can Use My Immense Hat To Cover My Wobbly Bits As I Leave the Hotel."

Photo: Kinetic

 Best Smokey-Drinky Photo Bomb:

Photo: Sam English

And finally.  New this year.

The "Thank God. Now I Don't Actually Have To Talk With 'The Help' Award."

Photo: Dan Dry / Power Creative

Links:  Kentucky Derby There are so many lovely pictures to check out.

Jump (For Batgirl's Love)

Last Thursday was my own personal version of the Oscars.  Not the winning awards part.  Before that. The red carpet.  In this Oscar chronicle, I was the designer sitting at home having an anxiety attack over seeing Carissa rock my garment on the red carpet.

The night before, I was a bundle of restlessness in bed.  Awake hoping that the neck hole in my cape (capes are the new black) wasn't too constricting. Then fearing it was too gapey and would hang off her back. Comfy bed, warmth of Mr. Schatze slumbering close by, a belly full of Nighty Night tea...that I just wanted to throw up all over myself analyzing every stitch, pleat placement, Carissa's accessories and her comfort.

When her text came in at 5:03 AM Arizona time, I still had at least 3 hours of sleep in me making up for what I lost in irrational worry.

Carissa: I have never been so excited to go to work in my nine years of teaching!

I saw it once I finally woke up. And then I saw her radiant smile on Facebook.  And then I turned off my distress and became very excited.

Carissa promised her students that if they saved over 100 lives for the American Heart Association during the jump rope for heart event 'Jumping To Be a Heart Hero' that she would dress up as a super hero. 

They did it.

And I was honored when she called to give me the exclusive on her female super hero design.

Carissa chose a classy, elementary school appropriate Batgirl.

And upon receiving her measurements, construction began.

Cape pleats got pinned.

Eye holes got snipped out of masks.

Goodwill boots got spray painted.

Bat logos got jig sawed.

And the finishing baubles all fell into place.

 Carissa was exquisite.  Is exquisite.  A hero to the core.

If adolescent chubby-cheeked me would have been in class that day, I would have been glued to the floor in a pool of shock and delight.  I would have dreamed about growing up to be confident and enthusiastic - and able to wear super hero costumes around town - all just like Mrs. Carissa.  Anxious to see what surprises were in store for me at school the rest of the year.  And I would have felt proud about actually saving lives with the money I raised and my jumping.  Believing that I did a good thing and because of it people are going to live. And I would believe it in my heart because Batgirl told me so and Batgirl doesn't lie.

And then I would rush home and make Mrs. Carissa an Oscar award for Awesome.

...with the Pointer Sister playing in the background.

Oscar Mash Up 2012

Here is my pick for Best Dressed from the Oscars last night:

Jessica Chastain from The Help in Alexander McQueen.

So regal and beautiful. She walked away and I was begging to see more. The embroidery and gathering are impeccable and I can't imagine the amount of time that went into making this masterpiece, let alone the time that went into making it look so flawless on her.

I know, I know. Not red and no sequins. Shocking.

That was my favorite overall look.

Here is my Oscar Mash Up 2012 -- my favorite components mashed together for one look.

The plunging neckline, arm exposing long sleeves and perfect bosom from Jennifer Lopez.

Made instead out of...

the fiery sequin textile from Ellie Kemper's gown.

Combined with...

the effortless skirt flow and innocent youthful glow of Emma Stone.

Accentuated by the...

glimmering jewels and steeled arms of Natalie Portman.

And of course...

Stacy Keibler's arm candy.

Yes. Now, that is more my predictable style.

Wait.

What the heck.

Let's throw in some vampy Angelina Jolie leg just for fun.

Done.

This dress will be mine someday. Just as soon as I have enough money saved up to buy myself J Lo's decolletage.

Photos from People

Flash Back To the Future

Finally, the end to this nephew painting trilogy. No more paint for a while.  Well, until I take you back to Viji’s to share what has been getting color shmeared over there.  Until then, sit back and get ready to be sucked into the captivating story about when my nephew Vaughn threw the ring and Gollum into the fiery lava to save Middle-earth. Wait...no. I mean how Vaughn teamed up with Danny Ocean in an effort to bring Willy Banks and his casino down a diamond after messing with their boy, Rueben.

No?

Not that kind of trilogy? Suit yourself, but you are screwing yourself out of a delightful Clooney / Pitt / Cheadle / nephew Vaughn candygram.

Vaughn loves Hot Wheels (along with hugs, drawing ninjas and stealing cereal bars from his Uncle Schatze while he has his back turned and then eating them). And, much like my own burning obsession, the kid also loves red.

I checked out the hotwheels.com website to find something that would fit the bill for his acrylic undertaking. The equation of winning components chosen was as follows.

The the car style in this:

PLUS components of the background style in this:

MULTIPLIED BY a color and direction revamp

EQUALS this:

While I am secretly hoping that Vaughn’s life turns out like the Back to the Future trilogy so he can escort his aunt Heidi back to Dillards in Scottsdale where she let those fabulous silver sequined heels on clearance slip away in March 2000, my greater hope is that the red car painting stays on his walls for at least the next 20 years. After that, there could be some negotiations with a significant other involved. But, I'll just have to bribe that bridge when I come to it.

Scream it louder.

I love Auntie Heidi!!

Yes.  Good.

Breaker, Breaker, Heartbreaker

Don't tell Mr. Schatze, but I have love in my heart for another man.

He has eyes that melt your heart.

A smile that makes you concede to any request.

He is a hockey player.

A dreamer.

A Twins fan.

And was a sheep in the Christmas program at church last month.

This is Luke.  If you are hugging your computer screen now I will understand.

I went to high school with Luke's mom Carissa in Luverne.  Technically, Carissa is from Kenneth, MN. No, no. We like Kenneth.  Kenneth doesn't fall into that 30-mile radius of judgement like Adrian does.  Maybe because it's kids came to Luverne for school.  No, it is because Kenneth is awesome.

- Everyone from Kenneth can name each and every other citizen, all 60 of them.
- When we would play a game of kick-the-can in Kenneth, we literally played in the entire town of Kenneth
- I've never know Carissa's street address from Kenneth.  I just put the name, city, sate and zip and it gets there every time.
- On a side note, Carissa's dad helped me install a CB radio in my station wagon in their Kenneth driveway.  My handle was 'Midnight Rambler.' We can talk about that more some other time.

I digress.  When I grow up, I want to be Carissa.  She is boisterous, loving, motivated, inspiring, caring, compassionate, enthusiastic, funny.  I could go on and on.  The point is, I have a long way to go to be a Carissa.

When she was pregnant with Luke, her first, I wanted to give her something unique.  Carissa is a volleyball expert and played during college at Bethel.  I really wanted to make a baby volleyball uniform with replica bunhuggers, like we wore in high school.  Yeah, kind of crossing the line since they knew it was going to be a boy.  Instead, I stalked Luke's dad, Chris.  He is a hockey star and current assistant hockey coach for the Bethel Royals.  A replica hockey jersey was in the works.

Yep, this is a recent photo.  Mustaches are back in a big way.  Get on board people.

I tracked down Chris' college number and started sewing like mad.  I finished just in time to get it in the mail for arrival after her baby shower. Don't judge my time management.  

Since it was late, Chris got to help open the gift at home.  Way better.  My lack of time management paid off this time.

From what I hear, fans have a hard time watching an actual Bethel hockey game this season.  You know, since they are so distracted by the handsome drooler in the front row.

Thanks Luke, for distracting me for the rest of the day with thoughts of squeezing the cheeks of my favorite hockey player.  I can't wait until you can run around and we can compete in a game of Kenneth kick-the-can.  I know all the best spots for hiding.  You don't stand a chance.

This has been the Midnight Rambler.

Over and out.

Four Legged Fascinator

How is it that I had never made a fascinator?  When the Royal Wedding footage started rolling in last spring, my heart started to punch aggressively outward on itself, making room for my flourishing new love for hypnotizing head pieces.  

Beatrice got all the coverage.

Mirror.co.uk

But my favorite was Zara Phillips in her Philip Treacy done-right number.  Yummy.

Instead of making my first fascinator, I bought one.  You heard me, ponied up the cash because I couldn't help myself.  Amid a leisurely peruse down the unseasonably snowless streets of Luverne, MN before Christmas, my l'amour jumped out at me like rabbit in heat from the display behind the registers at the Grapevine.

Me:  <After signing the receipt for some new tiny spatulas> Wait. What is that with the glittery green olives over there?!
Sally Sales: Oh, this is our holiday martini glass headband.  <She walks it over>
Choir of Angels: "JOY joy JOY joy JOY joy JOY joy JOY"
Sally Sales: We have one with little wrapped presents too.
Me: Nope. I think I'm in love. Glittery Green Olives!
Sally Sales: Are you a martini gal?
Me: Um, I am kind of an everything gal.
Sally Sales: <Laughed as if I had just made a joke.  I hadn't>
Me: I'll take it.

Sally rang me up as I shook with excitement and anticipation.  This was really happening.  My first fascinator, from the posh Southwest Minnesota equivalent to London, Luverne.

Sally Sales: <handing me my bagged new dome decoration with a smile> I know you are an everything girl, but don't let this bring too much merry to your Christmas.
Me:  I can't promise you that.  
Sally Sales: <Laughed as if I had again made a joke that I hadn't.>

So, the whole Tini Topper experience motivated me to throw together an additional gift for my brother-in-law, Rob, whose name I had drawn for the family gift exchange.  A sort of manly fascinator if you will.

One rough pattern...

plus

Some macho hunting fleece...

plus

The 'beary-cute' photo tutorial at Happy Together

equals

The Best Christmas Ever

Someone needs to hold my hair back.  Too much merry.

Lady In Red...

When L'Wren Scott saw her red sequin masterpiece on Penelope Cruz at the 2011 Academy Awards she must have been bursting with emotion.  Feeling:

Joy

Honor

Humbleness

Relief

Resiliency 

I know this because those were the same emotions I had when I saw my red sequin thong joggers appear on facebook.

I don't know Mr. Awesome above, but he is obviously the Sioux Falls, SD equivalent of Penelope Cruz.

The Fairest Mirrors of All

Just when I go and share Viji's majestic mirror creation, Crooked Brains does a whole post on Creative Mirror Designs.  I let Viji down.  She could have had the Sweeny Todd razor blade mirror.

Or better yet, one of my favorites, the Tetris mirror.  I don't play Tetris much anymore, but back in 1989ish my sister Lorri headed to Concordia College in Moorhead, MN where she was the one freshman Cobber to win the dinosaur apple computer giveaway.  When 10-year-old me went to visit her I stayed up until 5 AM setting new Tetris records and then breaking them.  I held all 10 high scores.  That is, until her cruel friend made it his mission to pillage my crown.  Who does that to an innocent chubby-cheeked cherub?! A small part of me hopes that he didn't make it through that frigid 1990 winter.

The Aviator mirrors would have looked hot.  Aviators always make me think of Top Gun and Val Kilmer of yesteryear.

But, perhaps the press conference mirror is the only true option.  It would be impossible to walk by without giving a short speech acting out whatever fantasy your heart desires at that minute.  What would yours be today, Looker?  Mine would be:

Good afternoon ladies, gentlemen and the 1993 graduating class of Cobbers.  As you take this giant step out into the real world, remember to always park in open spaces near the end of the lot.  If not, someone may come and box your car in like the sad bottom layer of a Tetris puzzle.  It will leave you weeping with your knees on the hot pavement begging for an 'L' shaped El Camino when all you will be given is square Scions leaving you trapped in for hours.  That is all, congratulations.

Clearly, twenty years later, I am over it.  Almost.