Thanks a Million

To those of you who voted for me in the Anthropologie contest, thank you. I really appreciate you rallying 'round and supporting me. It was fun!

In case you haven't heard, this is how it went down: I was winning, with a solid lead of 10 to 20 points until last night. Then, in the last several hours of the competition, another lovely young lady joined the competition and beat me SPECTACULARLY.

I don't mind at all. I told my mother several days ago that I wouldn't mind losing, as long as it was by more than one point. And it was way more than one.

So I'm happy. I have more clothes than I need. More importantly, I have friends & family who love me enough to support me in this crazy endeavor.

Thank you again!

I hope the last week of Lent is fruitful for you all.

Read. This.

Please. It's worth every second.

When the prevailing thinking is boys will be boys — girls will be garbage.

Augusta & Flowers

Advice Column: where a girl should shop

*Warning: girly post! About clothes and body types! Boys & men: don't say I didn't warn you!*

I. Love. Clothes. I do. I do. I do. I'm not going to try to justify it, but I am just admitting it. Because I love clothes so much, I have gone to many stores and many departments of stores and tried on HUNDREDS of things. Of the things I try on, I buy very few. Usually, it's because they're too expensive for me to justify the purchase. The most common reason I turn down a piece: it doesn't fit right.

Length
 
I'm not "short" by more objective standards, but I am shorter than average and thereby considerably shorter than the average model. Since clothes seem to be made for model-height women, they usually are longer on me than was originally intended by the designer.

When it comes to dresses and skirts, I don't too much mind this phenomenon. I have fairly modest taste when it comes to hem lengths, and if it's a bit longer on me, I usually don't mind. (The only BIG exception to this is maxi dresses, which are about ten feet too long for me. I have yet to find one that I loved enough to buy and hem for myself.) Length can be an issue with necklines. There is more distance between a tall woman's collarbone and cleavage than there is between mine. A tank top is usually necessary to cover up the difference. Thankfully, they're still somewhat in style. I'm hoping that trend will stick around for many years to come.

Now you're asking, where's the advice? I'm getting there. Since there are such a variety of body types and I only have one, I am going to deal with what I know. Those of you who have other body types may glean some useful information as well, but only because it is what does not work for me.

Me

For those of you who don't know me in real life, I'll give you a brief description. I'm 5' 4", and very... Italian. Sorry, that's the only one-word description that I can think of. To break it down for you, I have a classic "hourglass" figure: a C-cup, substantial (but not outrageously large) hips, a curvy patootie, and a waist that's two sizes smaller than my hips. Oddly enough, after college graduation I lost about 15 pounds... but my cup size got bigger. Weird, right? Ok, so that's me.  

Curve

Here's the area where I encounter the most issues.

At whatever store you shop, it is usually going to cater to one body type or another. Forever 21, for example, caters to juniors. Coldwater Creek caters to middle-aged and older women. I cannot shop at either. Here's why:

Forever 21 (and other stores or departments that cater to juniors)

I recently went to Forever 21 for the first time. And their stuff is cute. My goodness. Their dresses? To die for. The only reason I didn't try on every single one was because I am trying to avoid dressing like a little girl and making myself look even more like a 16 year old. Ahem.

I grabbed a few of their dresses and headed to the dressing room. I was left with two distinct impressions: 1) their clothes are meant to last 3 days, 17 hours, and 56 minutes and 2) they're made for people with little to no boobs or hips.

I'm serious. Those dresses were cut like boy clothes. The waist fit great... but they were stretched uncomfortably over other areas. Awkward.

I know these places advertise for "curvy" girls, too. They have a special section for them. That doesn't mean curvy and petite, though. It means curvy and big. Sure, the dresses had more room in the chest and butt, but they also had enough room for two of me in the waist area.

Lesson learned: Just Say NO To The Junior Section.

Coldwater Creek (and other stores that cater to matrons)

Why I don't shop in places like this takes very little explanation. I'm usually hard pressed to find anything that I would call cute. The occasional pieces that I do find - and am willing to try on - fit all wrong, too. They're all too big. Even the things that are the "right size" are too big. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I guess after a certain age, a woman wants more room in her clothes to better hide "flaws." I just feel like I'm drowning. The exception to this is slacks. If I can find some that aren't egregiously long on me, I'm usually ok with how slacks from these places fit. I think it's because I don't feel that butt-clinging pants are appropriate for work or other settings in which one would wear slacks.

Where To Shop

Now that I've covered the "no's", I'll give you a few "yes's."

Rule 1: You Get What You Pay For

We've all heard this over and over again, but it's 100% true in the world of fashion. A bigger price tag means better fabric, better stitching, better fit, and better service. If you need a nice piece or want something that will last, you'll have to spend more. I wasn't convinced of this for a long time, but I'm sure it's true after hours of failed shopping trips and regretted purchases.

Caveat to Rule 1: if it's an extremely trendy piece (i.e., something that will go out of style quickly), paying the big bucks probably isn't worth it. Need a sequined top for a party? Shop the clearance rack at Target.

Rule 2: Find Your Favorite Stores and Stick To Them

Once you find what works for you, don't stray from it. I, personally, love Banana Republic. Things fit me almost perfectly. They go in and out at all of the right places and the perfect amount. I regretted my brief jaunt into Forever 21. I came out feeling fat and ugly. I never feel that way when I leave Banana Republic, even when I walk out empty-handed.

Rule 3: Belts are your friend

If you have boobs and hips, belts are you friend. Sometimes your waist can get lost between the two of them. Belt up. It gives you your shape back. This goes for dresses and longer shirts. Oh, and pants, too. But that's mostly for when your hips require a size of pants that your waist is left hoola-hooping in. Doesn't really do anything for your figure, but it will help your self-confidence. No one feels proud about losing their pants... 

Rule 4: Don't shop with your Barbie-figured friend

I suppose this is technically a "don't," but I feel it's important to add. If you have a model-proportioned, tall, leggy, gorgeous friend and you are shorter and rounder, she will look better in everything she tries on than you will in anything you try on. You will develop either a bad case of mirror-image envy or just lose quite a bit of self-confidence. Shop alone or with someone who couldn't be strutting the runway either.  

I know this sounds mean, but it is not meant to be. It's something I've learned from experience. When you are in that dressing room, it's difficult to see something you like. All of us women are our own harshest critics. We are not helping ourselves when we stand in front of a mirror next to someone who is wearing the same dress, but 5 sizes smaller. Do yourself a favor and leave the model friend at home. You have more chance of seeing the beauty that is actually there when you aren't playing the comparison game.

Rule 5: It's only a number

Sometimes you have to put on a bigger size. It happens. But that bigger size could look fabulous on you. If it bothers you, buy it, bring it home, and cut the tag out. No one who sees you in it will know and, eventually, you will forget. All that matters is that YOU look amazing.

p.s. - you can still vote for me in that Anthropologie contest. If you already voted, you can vote again! (c'mon! help a girl out!) :)

Vote for me!

Broke But Bougie is hosting a St. Patrick's day emerald clothes contest. I entered and you can vote for me!!! Please do by going to this link! I am terribly broke, unemployed, and love me some cute clothes.

If you have a dislike for all things materialistic, fine. Don't vote for me. ;)

But don't I look cute? :)

$10 Dress Revamp

24 hours ago, I took out an ankle-length, satin dress that belonged to my older sister when she was 13. I got some satin, some ribbon, some buttons, and leaned on my small stock of creativity to remake it into a more young-adult appropriate Easter dress.

I shortened it by about a foot (it hits about half an inch above my knee), took the straight-across back to a pin-tucked v-shape, and made a couple of belts to go with it. Yay! New face on an old dress! :)

Big Girl Decision

I have spent more time in physical therapy than I like to recall. I mean years. I have more programs, exercises, techniques, and advice than I could use in my lifetime. When the rheumatologist prescribed more physical therapy, I wasn't thrilled, but I told him that I was willing to try it. He said that they could find me a shorter, more all-inclusive program that I could do on a daily basis, but not use up my whole day.

I tried. I really did. I tried to be respectful and nice. I tried to be open-minded. But when the list of exercises that I was supposed to do three times a day got to be three pages long, I threw in the towel. The worst part of it was having to call and cancel the appointments. I hate doing things like that. I fear disappointing or upsetting the hard-working medical staff. But since I'm a big girl now, I have to take charge of my own medical treatment and decide what's best for me. And, oh, I don't like it.

It isn't the therapist's fault that I've had almost four years of this already. It isn't the therapist's fault that I have had some of the best therapists in the area and that he is just average. It isn't the therapist's fault that I don't like him.

The doctor said he'd like me to try it. I tried it. I'm saying, "no." I can say it. Does it feel good? Well, as TAC students and graduates like to say, "In a way, yes, in a way, no."

"Holier Than Thou"

This article brought this subject to my attention this morning. The subject, however, does not have a limited audience. It's a lesson that has to be learned throughout the world. It's a lesson that has to be learned by every single person.

The election of Pope Francis brought about many, many reactions. Some were pretty extreme. The extreme ones involved kicking and screaming. At one extreme, people were screaming about His Holiness being "too holy." At the other extreme, people were screaming about His Holiness being "not holy enough."

Whoa.

In reply to the first, one has to give them a little bit of slack. The media's portrayal of the pope is never very kind. The image presented is a "holier than thou" image. There are pictures of the pope praying and quotes from the pope, which, out of context, sound judgmental and harsh.

But this Pope is not a "holier than thou" man.

Exhibit A: In the first minutes of his papacy, before extending his blessing over the world, he asked for our blessing, bowing his head to receive it.

Exhibit B: This morning, after praying before an icon of our Blessed Mother, he told the confessors at the church to "be merciful, the souls of the faithful need your mercy."

He hasn't been pope for 24 hours and he has shown to us the importance of humility and mercy.

But how do we respond to those who accuse Pope Francis of not being holy enough?

Dare we point to the same examples?

Holiness is not praying 15 decades of the rosary a day. It is not adhering to only the 1962 missal. It is not about how long you can kneel in front of the Blessed Sacrament. It is not how well you can (carefully and haltingly) explain a little bit about the mystery of the Trinity.

Holiness is about intention. 

Now, before all of my more traditional readers wig out and declare me a relativist heretic, let me explain.

I do not mean that you can do whatever you want as long as it is done with the right intentions. What I do mean to do is echo Christ, who says, "Not every one who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you evildoers.' (Matthew 7: 21-23)

Let's reflect for a moment on what doing God's will looks like. Christ says blatantly that it's not about doing stuff. Expelling demons? Doesn't do it. Mighty works? Nope. What did Jesus do? Jesus is Love Incarnate.

He loved with humility.

He scolded the Scribes and Pharisees who militantly followed the letter of the law. He rescued the woman who was going to be stoned to death for adultery. He ate with tax collectors. He did all things with humility and love.

And no matter how many times I have heard people accuse Catholics of being "holier than thou," I have never once heard anyone say that of Jesus.

No matter the level of your devotion, you will probably be "more pious" than someone else in the world. But you should never assume that you are more or less holy than any other person.

How do we convey that? By being ever-humble and ever-merciful. Nothing says "non-judgmental" like showing a little mercy. That's what Jesus did. Remember: we can judge the morality of an ACTION. But we can never, EVER judge the morality of the PERSON doing the action. Ever.

Whatever you do, do it with a humble heart. Love everyone. Everyone. No more hate talk. No more condescension. Go ahead with your devotions. Pray. Fast. Give. But do not, under any circumstances, judge another person.

HABEMUS PAPAM!!!!!

His name was Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio.

His name is Pope Francis.

He is the first Jesuit pope.

He is the first pope from the Americas. (Buenos Aires, Argentina, to be precise.)

He is incredibly humble.

If you don't believe me, here is what he said:

"Good evening.

As you know, the duty of the conclave was to appoint a bishop of Rome, and it seems to me that my brother cardinals have chosen who is from far away. Here I am.

I would like to thank you for your embrace, also to the Roman Catholic Church and the bishops, thank you very much. And first and foremost, I would like to pray for our bishop emeritus, Benedict XVI

Let us pray together for him so that he is blessed by the Lord...

Let us begin this journey together... this journey for the Roman Catholic Church. It is a journey of friendship, of love, of trust, and faith. Let us pray always for one another. Let us pray for the whole world. Let us have a big brotherhood.

I wish that this journey for the Church, which we will start today... will bear fruits for the evangelizing of this beautiful city.

I would like to offer you my blessing. But I would like to ask a favor first. I would like to pray to the Lord so that the prayer of the people blesses also the new pontiff. Let us pray in silence your prayer for me."

Deo Gratias!!!!! LET US HAVE A BIG BROTHERHOOD!!!!!!

The "Dump" List

So we did an activity yesterday, similar to the "What do you want in a spouse?" one that we did before. The theme for these lists was "when to dump him" for the girls and "when to dump her" for the guys. Here are a few samples:

When To Dump Him:

"If he gets fat or lets himself go."

"If he's constantly on his phone."

"If he is ABUSIVE!"

"If he doesn't have good hygiene."

"Careless."

"Not wanting eventual marriage or kids."

"Boring."

"If he hides things from you." (The example given was AIDS. Whoa.)

"If someone else better comes along."

"If he puts me down."

"If the bro CHEATS!"

"Self-loathing."

"Sexist."

"Dangerously pretentious." (wow. big words.)

"If he wants an open relationship."

"Over protective."

"Jealous."


When To Dump Her:

"If she doesn't like your parents."

"If she can't leave you alone once in a while."

"Waaaayyyy too clingy."

"If you find out that she has totally lied about her life and you loved that image of her."

"If you are whipped." (not physically, but the wrapped-around-her-finger type of whipped)

"If she has 3 other significant others." (But 2 would be ok, I guess...)

"If she doesn't let you talk in a conversation."

"Crazy."

"Lets herself go."

"Can't read above a 5th grade level."

"If she is emotionally unstable or controlling of you."

"If she plans your wedding."

"If she's a lesbian."

Saturday Scrappy

WWII memorial...

This is me...

Three Historic Tweets

What do Ben McKenzie, Michael Cudlitz, and Dylan Bruno have in common?

Two things:

1) They're all celebrities.

2) They ALL replied to my tweets.

OHMIGOODNESS, I AM FREEEEAAAAKING OUT.

The Ben tweet, in particular, was so exciting that I took a screenshot on my phone. Lemme tell you a little bit about why it made me so excited.

I know I sound like a dumb teenage girl here. I am very excited to have gotten a response from Ben McKenzie of "The OC" fame. (Although I like Southland better... and am stoked about the possibility of his new show, Advocates.)

I am not excited, however, because he's famous. Well, it's partially that. It's mostly because he is super duper shy. He hardly ever says anything at all on twitter, let alone replying to people who talk to him. The guy has so many female fans who are absolutely CRAZED. His twitter is basically spammed every day by these ladies. His general policy seems to be to ignore everyone, for which I don't blame him. If I were being practically stalked by crazy people, I would ignore them and just pray that they'd all go away without doing harm to me, my loved ones, or themselves. And yes, this is why I don't want to be famous. I'm kinda paranoid.

When he does tweet, it's mostly about his political activities and going out to lunch. I find the latter vaguely interesting, and the former highly intriguing. We are absolutely ideologically opposed, but that doesn't mean I can't find his opinions fascinating. I'd love to sit down and talk about important matters with him some day. It might end up (on the lottery-winning-sized-chance that it will even happen) with the two of us so frustrated with each other that it would just devolve into yelling... but as long as it was yelling inspired by intelligent thought and not idiotic stubbornness, that would be ok with me.

I am excited because I got a super shy guy to come out of his shell and respond to something that I said. I am 1) happy for him that he took this great step in becoming a more evolved human being and 2) proud of myself for saying something a little snide to this great figure in the celebrity world, which ended up helping him to his more evolved state.

Yes, this is all a little nonsensical, but I can't always be sensible. A girl's gotta loosen up and stop making sense once in a while.

Sweet Baby Things

I found out that my dear friend had a baby girl. 

In response, I sewed and sewed and sewed and SEWED!!!!

This is the end result:

Just waiting on an address! :)

"Fred"

Meet Fred.

Fred isn't his real name, of course. We have no idea what his real name is, actually. It happened like this:

Mum and I were driving to run a couple of errands. As we were stopped at a red light, I noticed that the car waiting across the intersection had its hatch open. When I pointed it out to Mum, she explained it by supposing that they had something sticking out of the back of their car. Curious (as always), I looked to see what was sticking out as both we and they turned. Much to my surprise, there was no two-by-four or bike sticking out of the back. A dog jumped out.

I shrieked. (surprise surprise) I told Mum what had happened, and she made a u-turn to rescue the dog that had been inadvertently abandoned. I was additionally concerned because there was another dog in the back of the car. The fate of that dog might be similar, especially if the driver was heading for the freeway.

We picked up the dog (a very trusting, pretty friendly Jack Russel Terrier) and took him to our vet to see if he was micro-chipped. He was, but the contact info was for an animal hospital, not the owner. Not helpful. Fred, as I decided to call him, was licensed in Orange County so it looked as though his owner was vacationing down here. The vet office called the number on his license and his rabies tag, and eventually, we found a phone number for the owner. They left a message with our contact information. Since we had exhausted our options, we put up a sign near where we had found him, and took him home to hang out.

Augusta was highly confused. I think she thought Fred was a toy. Her tail was wagging as she chased him around and jumped over him. She didn't want him to play back, though. He would jump on her and she would snarl at him. I can't really blame her since he was behaving like an non-neutered boy dog, if you know what I mean.

After a few hours, a hysterical woman called us, looking for her dog. We were happy to return Fred to his proper owner. At least, I was. Mum liked him, I think. I found him irritating.

The one regret that I have is that we didn't find out the dog's real name. I guess I'll always refer to him as Fred.