Ho Hum Homebody

   All summer long I’ve been absolutely desperate to leave town.  Unfortunately, life has continually gotten in the way.  Alas, I haven’t ventured farther than a daytrip in ages.  I’m convinced this can really start to get to a person.

   On the other hand, I can happily state I believe my outfits have gotten more interesting.  All the exciting, “resort items," I optimistically purchased this season have been worked into my everyday wardrobe.  The above photographs feature one of these pieces.  Currently I'm head-wear obsessed, and while I haven’t been able to debut these special items at a beach, I believe they look just as good on the prairie.  Okay…maybe they look freaking weird but I don’t care!  Finally, I have a decent collection of high end hair accessories to cover up my plain Jane mane!

   Of course, I do get the odd stare frequently.  The first time I wore this Cult Gaia turband I ended up eating at a rural greasy spoon diner with my significant other.  I noticed this local yokel man staring me down and I felt like saying, “Watch me quaff this meatloaf dude!  I’m as Midwestern as you!”

   In closing, I really don’t have much to write today.  Time has been a precious commodity as of late and I've got stuff to do.  However, I want to assure my readers that while I’m running my mundane daily tasks I’m dressed in my vacation garb.  Basically, if you can’t get to the lake, bring the lake to you.

-r.

BEST SUMMER EVER?

   Well, the end of summer is approaching fast and I really feel like I've done nothing.  I was discussing this with my significant other and we both agreed these last few months have been a bust.  Basically, our jobs have totally gotten in the way.

   Considering I work in childcare, it's impossible not to be confronted daily with the passing of what is usually my most anticipated season.  Constantly the kids are buzzing about getting new school supplies, meeting this year’s teachers, and seeing fond friends again.  I can’t help but admit there’s a certain electricity in the air.  Unfortunately, for those of us decidedly done with our studies, it’s hard to get pumped about the inevitable arrival of winter.

   Of course, in the meantime, I can look forward to fall.  For me, this is a time of comfy vintage sweaters, trips to the apple orchard... in pursuit of those freaking amazing turnovers, kick ass fall clothing catalogs...to pour over at the coffee house, and most importantly, the anticipation of Halloween!  Honestly, this holiday alone if enough for me to get over my end of summer slump.  There’s just something magical about October…and the thrift store, "costume rack," that caters to it.

   At the same time, I can’t help but be remorseful of the passing of August.  It wasn’t so long ago that I remember stating, “This is going to be THE BEST SUMMER EVER!!!”  To be perfectly honest there's been nothing really wrong with these last few months.  In fact, I’d be willing to state as far as my blog is concerned, I’ve come up with some of my best outfits yet.  Lately, I can’t help but feel like I’ve really been dressing like myself.  I'm not all over the place with my clothes.  In addition, it was this summer that I constructed my first real style plan and actually stuck to it.  Yes, the hot mess you see gracing the images of this blog post was all planned.  Scary.

   Surprisingly I almost think that when I stopped coloring my hair it contributed to these feelings of self-awareness.  I hadn’t seen my natural color in so long it’s kind of been nice to be reintroduced to the real me.  Of course, now that we’ve met again I’m counting down the days until I can finally decide to commit to the color of my new personality. 

   A part of me wants to state that I believe this will be, "THE BEST FALL EVER!!!.”  However, if this last season taught me anything it’s that you can’t control fate by grand proclamations.  Perhaps if I'd started the summer by shouting, “MOST MEH SUMMER EVER!!!,” I would have fooled the God’s into throwing me a bone.  Instead, I think my future approach will be to try to appreciate what I’ve got…which is a closet full of fantastic hippie headbands…which ironically, is the outcome of my most, "meh," summer ever.  Huh…oh, screw it…I can’t wait!  It’s going to be, "THE BEST FALL EVER!!!,”she says while holding a troll doll, crossing her fingers, and quickly mumbling, “Toi, Toi, Toi,” afterwards.

-r. 

Too Much?

   Writing this now, I can’t help but ask myself the utmost important question, “How many times is too many for a person to watch the movie, “Twister?”  This might seem like an odd thought.  However, I have to admit it is not the first occasion I’ve posed this inquiry.  In fact, I seem to ask this question every six months,   Of course, this happens to be how often I find this gem of 90’s, “Meh,” cinema playing on cable. 

   Despite how unremarkable others may find this picture, it was an automatic classic in my household.  As a result, I can’t help but at least pause each time I come across the surprisingly soothing images of Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton careening across the stormy countryside.  If anything, I can always use the excuse that I’m simply watching to pay homage to the late Paxton, who I still can’t fathom is gone.  He was just that normal seeming guy who showed up in almost every film you watched back then.  Of course, shockingly, Philip Seymour Hoffman was also in the movie, “Twister.”  There was absolutely nothing normal about his awesome talent so don’t even get me started on what a shame his passing was.  Sigh…it occurs to me now that while the movie, “Twister,” still signifies a staple film of my youth, it now also has the slight stench of grief attached to it.  Man, the passage of time can really suck! 

   Okay, before this gets too morose…and believe me it already has since I’ve devoted this entire post to a movie that honestly isn’t that good…I would like to try to segue back to the topic of fashion.  Well actually, more like the topic of hoarding, but same diff…right?  While I sit here indulging in yet another night of, “Twister,” I can’t help but feel pangs of guilt regarding other habits I have.  For instance, I recently got paid and the first thing I thought was, “Yes! I can scoop up that Missoni headband I’ve been eyeing!”  You may be thinking…if you’re still reading this…that, “Twister,” thing got a tiny tired…, “What’s wrong with that?  You saved up and bought something you’ve been legitimately wanting.”  Except I’m ashamed to admit this will not be my first Missoni headband purchase.  In fact, it won’t be my second…or even my third…I think it’s fair to say, “Rayna has a new addiction.”

   Like any good addict, I find myself wondering, “How many is too many?”  Is there a point where my collection just becomes a gross display of indulgence…especially since I’m so excited about these headwraps that I can’t quite get the courage to wear them in public yet. It’s always… “Nope, I look like shit today.  I can't do it justice!”  After about the twentieth purchase…and God help me if I get that many…won’t this destined wardrobe staple simply go the way of, “Twister,” and ultimately make me sad.  When is shopping not fun anymore, and what will I do in place of it?

   Well, I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it!  I assume it might happen about the same time that I get sick of seeing Helen Hunt get sucked up in a tornado.  In the meantime, I’ll have plenty of headwraps and hats…like the one I’m wearing in the above images…to keep my hair from getting windblown.

-r.

The Little Things

   Sometimes the best thing you can hope for is a good outfit.  I know this sounds rather bleak but honestly, it’s how I’ve been feeling lately.  I seem to have hit a rocky patch and am currently clinging to the small pleasures in life.  It’s not like anything specific is wrong.  I’ve simply been faced with an overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction.  Again, I blame this on my birthday.  The older I get the more I start to hate that day.  I file it in the same category as New Year's Eve.  Basically, it’s a whole bunch of hubbub that reminds me of every unfulfilled expectation in my life. 

   Whew…well that got negative quickly.  As a result of my birthday blues, I’ve been trying to focus on the little things that have been good.  For instance, the above pictures show an outfit I recently wore and really liked.  Can you believe this entire ensemble was created out of thrifted items?  Okay, minus the specs.  Admittedly, I have an addiction to designer eye-wear.  Looking at these images now, I can’t believe how much I’ve ended up liking the shirt I have on.  This was one of those pieces I pulled off the rack at Goodwill and thought, “God, that’s quite possibly the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen!”  Of course, then I immediately purchased it and accepted the challenge of trying to make it look good.  Surprisingly, the opposite happened.  I truly believe this top made me look better.  If anything, I can state it made me feel better.  Shamefully, there's little that makes me more content than putting together a successful outfit.  Yes, I’m deep.  I know.

   It's notable to state when I stop trying to put clothes together there is usually something wrong with me.  A sure sign that I’m unhappy is if I’m wearing no accessories…that, and if I don’t have my nails painted.  To be truthful, if my nails aren’t painted schedule an intervention immediately because I'm definitely unwell. 

   Surprisingly, it was a child that made me aware of my current feelings of malaise.  I was at work when one of the kids I care for approached me and said, “You don’t look as fancy today Rayna.”  At first I laughed at the concept of this kid calling me out for wearing a t-shirt and jeans.  Upon further reflection, I became concerned with the fact that I really didn’t feel like being fancy.  “Uh oh,” I thought.  Of course, the next day I completely overcompensated and dressed in a mod blazer with full makeup in the hopes of gaining back an eleven-year old’s approval.  “See, it’s still me!” my outfit seemed to be screaming. 

   In the end I know these, “meh,” feelings will pass.  I have an unfortunate habit of over-analyzing things and it tends to mess me up.  Although maybe, “mess me up,” is not quite the right words.  Maybe these down times are important to ground me.  Maybe they help me appreciate when things are just normal.  I mean, it sure is nice to get super excited over a thrift store shirt, or a Bee Gee’s song, or movie theater popcorn, or a good phone call with my brother, or…

-r. 

Red Dirt Girl

        

   I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the topic of happiness.  I blame this on the fact that I just turned 39.  Let me just pause here and reflect on the fact that I'm freakin 39…  Whew okay, that’s kind of ugly to admit.  Anyway, one can’t help but get a little philosophical when faced with the undeniable passing of their youth.  There's now absolutely no way I can deny being a grown up.  This is a concept I state every year and it's still terrifying to me.

   It’s not the fact that I have real adult responsibilities that frightens me.  In fact, quite possibly it might be the lack of traditional middle-aged tasks that freaks me out.  I mean, most 39-year olds I know have more than their pets to take care of.  While the deafening tick of my biological clock is certainly starting to grab my attention, I must state my lack of children is not the main issue on my mind.  The concept that has really started to resonate with me is the question, “Is this it?  Is this all that life is about?” 

   While I like to think of myself as a deep thinker, I have to admit this revelation of, “What the hell?  I’m just here to work, walk dogs, watch Netflix, quaff Ben & Jerry’s, and go to bed every night?” is not a new concept.  Ironically, cosmic fate recently intervened when I sat down to watch my daily dose of, “Seinfeld,” reruns and Kramer literally says to Jerry, “There is nothing more to life.  This is it!” 

   I find the idea that, “This is, in fact, it,” simultaneously disturbing and comforting.  At first, I was extremely disappointed with letting my twenty something idealism die with the mature realization of what, "normal life," actually is.  However, I find myself developing the increasingly larger perspective of, “If this is all there is to life, there really are no huge expectations I have to fulfill.  No more pressure man!”

   For example, I’ve always looked at the unbelievably exciting lives of others on social media.  I'm constantly shocked by the exotic places people go.  Apparently, some individuals live their lives as one big adventure.  I’m ashamed to admit that envy rears it’s ugly head every time I see another, “Around The World," escapade shot.  Of course, now in response to these images I always hear Kramer’s quote, “This is it!,” in my head. 

   The kicker is, I really don’t like to travel very much.  I'm extremely OCD and get rather upset when my routine is broken.  I guess I’ve always just felt like I should be contributing my own adventure photographs to the internet in order to prove I have an exciting and happy life.  Of course, if I was recording true happiness the picture would be one of me walking my dog all the way to the back of our shelterbelt.  Here, her and I can stare at a nearby cornfield and the dimming sky.  In this image one can see the lightning bugs starting to glow and it’s obvious that I’m talking away about something, “important,”…probably shoes…while my dog is patiently listening.  Yep, I’m totally certain that’s exactly what a picture of my happiness would look like...mostly because I’m lucky enough to experience it every night. 

   In the end, turning 39 hasn’t been that bad.  At least I can state at this age I know what makes me happy.  In addition, I've discovered if I ever want to share exotic images on the internet I can simply take pictures sitting on my parent’s Adirondack chair while wearing a turban. 

-r.

"Good Morning, Vietnam!"

   To begin I want to clarify, in no way am I trying to make light of the Vietnam War.  I know…I know…this is a very odd statement to make at the start of a “fashion blog,” post.  However, I’m kind of a paranoid freak and would hate to offend anyone who may have experienced the atrocities of that war…as if those honorable individuals would ever be reading this blog!  However, despite my reserves on bringing up such an unfortunate event in history, I can’t help but think of actor Robin Williams screaming the legendary line, "Good Morning, Vietnam!" each time I look at the above images.  The style just seems to fit.

   Here again, I’m confronted with the fact that I'm definitely a theme dresser.  It’s like I pick a certain piece out of my closet and construct an entire new identity.  Honestly, I like to think I have a flair for it.  At the same time, there can be drawbacks to dressing this way.  I can’t tell you how many times I get asked about my, “costumes.”  This is something that can really start to irritate a person…especially someone who is fast approaching forty and feels a titch too old to be marching around in, “dress up clothes."  The problem is I don’t know how to combat the classic, “costume question.”  While I’m wearing my actual clothes each time this statement is uttered, I can’t help but admit I’m not an actual activist hippie whose protesting on the front lines.  I’m also not a WASPy socialite donning her nautical gear in order to attend a yacht party.  Sigh...most unfortunately, I’m not a bohemian cowgirl who goes wherever her horse takes her…because that would just be really cool.

   In the end, I have to admit that I’m just me…works the same schedule everyday…quietly reads her novels on lunch breaks…watches Netflix at home a lot, and constantly drinks decaf vanilla lattes.  Perhaps this rather, "normal," existence is the reason I feel compelled to dress like someone different every day.  Of course, the alternative is simply I’m just a weirdo who loves quirky clothes and has a knack for matching them together.  In any case, if you need a stylist for a costume party, I’m your gal.

-r.