Oh. Hello.

I don’t do this often.

Gee. I’m so sorry that I haven’t seen you, blog world. I will try to be less tardy. Like. Really. And, I am also seriously sorry that many of my past updates have been heartless rehashes of stuff that has been posted on Instagram (even though I love it so) or cheap advertisements for “Oh! New thing! If you loved me, you’d buy it.”

See, I like to read blogs. I like it when they are about actual people and, some of those people, they are very nice writers. Not just pictures. Not just evocative photo filters. Words, though. Oh yeah. Bring me the words. Make them plentiful and maybe even a little long. I can take it. Otherwise, I have a 3 volume dictionary to help me out. It’s outdated but, the most important parts are still there.

Things have been very busy this summer. For good and for not-so-good. Lots of driving from Rhode Island to New Jersey or New York. Lots of work for Renegade and lots of work stemming from Renegade (that’s good.) I had set out in late-springtime with a mild set of ideas as to what this summer would be like. It included late night hangouts on the state house steps, going to the beach, wearing cut-off shorts, and drinking a bunch of tiki drinks (particularly “Dr. Funk: the ladies’ favorite”). To date, I have done one of those things. Lucky for us all, it was the shorts.

What I didn’t plan for was being sick for 20 days. 20 gross days of being unfocused and mewling like a teensy, sad kitten whose antibiotics didn’t work the first time around. I spent more time than is believable laying across the bed, body drawing a line between the window A/C unit at one side of the room and the small fan sitting at the other. And, during this time, panic attack after panic attack. After a few days (okay, like, a week), I couldn’t really tell what parts of me were sick and what parts of me were just scared I was sick (and, obviously, would be sick for-ev-er). If you know someone who has reached this point, don’t tell them, “Duh. Idiot. Just relax.” Surprisingly, this line of thinking doesn’t actually work. Mind over matter sometimes, talking-with-a-licensed-professional some other times, glasses of wine over everything, right? And, when mild substance abuse doesn’t clear it up, try running away. Write that down.

So, here I am, on pleasant leave, hiding out at my parents’ house. And, you know, this summer hasn’t been much of a season (all enthusiastic cut-ff short wearing aside). Even in small ones, city summers are pretty miserable. But here, held gently in American suburbia, the Summer is how I remember. There’s the beach! And hamburgers! The gentle smell of cedar! Mild sunburn! A weird sensation that, at 5pm, I should be at work on the boardwalk! It is, truly, as my downstairs neighbor says, “Summah”. Don’t fear suburbia. Embrace it.

 

Majorette.

Long, long times in busy maker mode, these past few weeks/days. However, only one instance of crying. Wonderful progress, Elizabeth.

Turns out that I still have a physical form that occupies a space and, sometimes, when I’m feeling “fancy”, I do dress it up for some kind of pleasing-ish effect. It might seem counter-intuitive but, most of my nicer clothes come to me secondhand while the brand new stuff works to make me look like a scrubby, all-black-everything, schlub. Funny, that. After this era of hard work is over, I desperately need some new underwear. It’s where I draw the line when it comes to second hand.

This dress is a lovely little Leslie Fay number that used to be a big, huge Leslie Fay number. I bought it at the East Providence Saver’s for a few bucks, took it up, and took it in. Perfect proportion on that drop waist, if I do say so myself. Also, you can’t see them in this hazy, middle-of-the-work-day shot but, I have some pretty great Faryl Robin wedges, as well.

Those were a super-mega deal that found over the winter at my OG thrift shop land in Toms River, NJ. $5, friends. Three cheers for the folks who donate unworn, $120 dollar shoes to charity!

In line with charity, I will be in Cambridge, MA (that’s Boston, to all you, not-from-here folks) this Saturday, peddling goods at “The Art of Craft” at the Fayerweather  St. School. I have literally no idea what this will be like but, it’s helping to get me even more excited about Renegade Brooklyn next month. Woo!

Instagrammar 6.

I’m not going to lie, March has been a real crap month.

I Wear Clothes.

Hey there, me. You’re looking pretty good. Can you even imagine that there will be a time when I do far less living under the cover of darkness?

(I have to work really hard not to write “you’re” as “yr”- a high school Riot Grrrl affectation that has yet to fully go away. Does anyone else face this incredible internal battle?)

This is a nice approximation of what I have been wearing for the past month. The jumper is a little thing that I have been meaning to add to my wardrobe. So, Kelly and I took 15 minutes out of our busy day and whipped up a jumper each, based off of this festive pattern. Infinitely flattering and infinitely versatile- just, uh…. put a shirt under it. Congrats. I suddenly look like a gave half a thought to what I am wearing. Three cheers!

This top is from the Garden State Plaza of Paramus, NJ. Old Navy children’s section, 2004, on sale for $1.69. Listen to that dollar stretch! I think that it glowed in the dark at some point, too! The hat is from the Harbor House ReSale shop of Toms River, NJ. The snow boots are fly Timbs from the PVD Place Mall. The tights are from H&M and I anticipate that they will last all winter, surprisingly.

Otherwise, Dave bought the entire run of MTV’s The State on DVD I am furiously consuming it, as seen above. I’m writing this from Day 2 of  The Rhode Island Trapped Under Two Feet of Snow Experience. I’m very happy for brainless activities but being stuck inside is starting to wear on me. No room to exercise with 3 other people around and I’m actually sick of eating Chex mix, already.

Better Late?

 

It’s snowing, snowing, snowing right now. Not a whole lot to do when trapped inside with three other people and one tiny dog. Might as well go through your digital files and post them online while watching Reno 911! Fingers crossed that the power doesn’t go down! Here are some things I found back in the ye olde days of October 2012: an old print of St. Cecilia and a promotional fan from a local funeral home. Dig that brief phone number!

A little while back, someone pointed out that one of the apostles looks an awful lot like Dave.

It’s true.

Here’s hoping that I haven’t been eaten by a polar bear by the time you read this.

As Seen on Pee Wee Herman

Here’s the rub: I’ve been thinking long and hard about giving my (spectacular!)(wonderful!)(money-making!) bow ties a rest while I concentrate on building a strong finer jewelry brand. Ideally, I would open up a neckwear-only shop just in time for wedding season, make a bucket of dough, and no longer dread getting out all of my stuff and sitting down to make a single, teensy #$#@#^@$%&^ bow tie.

But then I meet really great folks, like this guy:

Who contacted me because he wanted the realest little red bow tie that the internet had to offer at a decent price. Maybe you don’t know but, the internet is filled with terrible people. For every 2 super-wonderful Etsy customers there seem to be 2.5 horrible Etsy customers who don’t understand basic commerce, physics, or manners. Allow me to parody.

“I ordered this two days ago. WHY WASN’T IT HERE THREE DAYS AGO!?”

“I contacted you on your personal Facebook page about my order 5 minutes ago and you DIDN’T RESPOND. You obviously DON’T CARE about your business!!!!”

So, when I meet someone who is so openly willing to communicate and have a great maker/buyer exchange, my heart grows three sizes, strains against my  creaking rib cage, and it’s fierce pressure buildup can only be eased by talking about it to the internet. You can and should read Danny’s account of this transaction, his day as Pee Wee Herman, and meeting Sid and Marty Croft!

I don’t often miss making costumes for a living but I’m so excited to see people who do such a thorough job! By the time I get around to making my own costume, it might as well just be a piece of paper taped to my chest reading, “Go to hell.” However, I did a really great, last-minute turn as some “Lumberjack Realness” for my friends’ birthday drag ball last week.

Heads up- my mustache is an old dreadlock.

Studio Peep.

Romantically filtered photos from around the studio this week. I’m trying to do at least one business-related thing each day (see:consistency). I keep close at heart the story of Nikola Tesla using a small machine, tapping at a regular interval, to almost shake apart a large building. 1,2,3 eventually builds to infinity. I’m cooking up and writing down lots of ideas and working on business-end type things and brand-type things but I’m having a hard time putting in ANY physical effort to make those ideas real. The creating has taken a back seat to the big picture, sadly. On the other hand, I’m still waiting on a bagful of parts to be cast. They say “one week” which always means “two weeks”. That’s the project I’m really itching to dig into. That and buying more Swarovski crystals at price. As Bootsy Collins sez, “Twinkle, twinkle, baby.”

What It Is.

1. Having long-ass hair/reading fashion blogs all night (TIED.)

The clothes, the house, the hair. My friend, Frank, said that New Year’s Eve is for doing wild, crazy, impulsive things that might cause you to start the newest year with some deep regrets. So I took his advice and bought some deeply-discounted-yet-still- expensive clip-in hair extensions via Amazon.com a few hours shy of midnight. They took 4 whole days to arrive (the agony!) and then another whole night to soak up my magical blue hair dye and the most of the rest of a day to air dry. Those who say that money cannot buy you love must not have fine, thinning hair. Because I love having long hair. And, while my scalp will never produce a product of such length and abundance, I can’t say the same of my credit card.

I’ve been spending my evening hours doing jumping jacks and “market research”. That is, “furiously shuffling through fashion blogs, trying to find folks who don’t make clutch at my face in pain.” There are so many obnoxious or mediocre people out there but I was able to suss up some that were cool, interesting, and… wonderfully normal. I feel so lifted by these discoveries that I think I should give back. This is what I look like:

Let’s call this the “Callin’ Up Thunder” Boots|Steve Madden, resoled twice. Heel rebuilt once. Stockings|H&M, present. Skirt|Express Tricot, Saver’s Woonsocket. T shirt|Le Tigre merch table, 2002.

(this is my favorite, do-everything shirt. I wore it to my first day of college, my first trans-Atlantic flight, and many other others. One day, a wee teen boy gushed, “OMG. Where did you GET that?” and I eye-rolled, “uh. at a Le Tigre show.” and we both paused, each taking in, in our own ways, how old I was.)

2. Workin’ Out.

Not, like, hugely obsessed. But, consistent. Earlier tonight, I was pushing at my gut and felt my fingers hit a “bottom”. Something hard. I think it was an ab. I guess it could be tumor.

3. My chum-pal, Joe Segal, is on Project Runway.

See it here, first! So exciting!

 

Instagrammar 3.

Not a lot of internet action this month. Sorry, internet. I think that I managed to allow myself some good time for relaxing, seeing friends, and not whipping myself with work-related guilt. It’s an important learning experience… and how. There are lots of plans and notes for things that I want to do in the coming year and, while some of those will doubtlessly end up by the wayside, I’m really excited about each and every one of them. Feeling good. Feeling clear. Feeling kinda streamlined and better edited. Fingers crossed for the future of hard but productive work.

After the new year, that is.

For now, more wine, more friends, more salmon, more lights, more trash tv, and more antique trinkets like this fabulous resin brooch that my mother gifted me, yesterday.

It’s the Internet.

As I told Beca T. Weed today, “The Mayan calendar must be right. The end of the world is near!”

Whether I like it or not, I have joined Twitter.

As I explained on the With Care Facebook page:

It’s with deep soul searching that I’ve decided to abandon Facebook for the greene

r lands of Twitter. I didn’t really want to do it, my attention span is short enough as is and doesn’t need any encouragement. I know that Twitter can be a divisive topic. I’m sorry if I’m slighting anyone but I’d love to be able to offer With Care promotions and contests to more than 15-40 people without having to pay for access to the other 345-320, you know? I’ll leave all this goodness up for future internet archeologists to find and please feel free to add me to your buddies on Instagram or Twitter @withcarejewelry on both.

So. That’s kind of a bummer. A lot of people spent a lot of time working hard to promote their businesses and gain interested followers. It’s appalling to see the company that we made successful hold all of those connections hostage.

And now for my monthly Instagram photopuke.