I have lusted in my heart, dear readers. Yes indeedy. January 22, 2009 15:47 1 Comment

All right. I admit it. The gorgeous Tracy Feith dress that Michelle Obama wore yesterday morning to church inspired one of the seven deadly sins. Yep. You guessed it. Lust. Or to be more specific — fashionlust: excessive love of another's clothing. Love this one. Love it. Love it. Love it. Abundantly. It's the perfect choice for one's first day at work. It's comfortable yet comely. Absolutely.

The simple and hard to beat 1950s silhouette was made even more arresting by the print. If you want to make your own, try Simplicity 2338, copyright 1957. Simplicity claims it's simple to make. Note View 3, the black-and-white version. Didn't Skipper have one just like that?

Information you need to know. Really. January 22, 2009 11:58

The Blue Gardenia charge order form is working properly now. Three hundred dollars, but you're worth every penny. You are. Don't ever doubt it. Ever. And of course, the site is secure. Totally. As it has been for months. And months.

Keep being good girls and boys, and we'll have a search engine soon. And not only that, but I'll let Santa know, too. He'll be so pleased. With you and with me.

Shameless plug: The slim silhouette or the frilly one? January 21, 2009 13:36 2 Comments

Forgive me. I was so overcome with excitement about the inauguration yesterday that I completely forgot to tell you about the update. I apologize. Profusely.

Yes, I added many amazing vintage patterns. I'll share pics and info about a few of them. But. Only a few, because I want you to visit The Blue Gardenia to see the rest. Don't let me down. Please. I look dreadful when my mascara runs. Really. I'm a sight.

From the early 1930s, Simplicity 1422 gently whispers "smart." (Can you hear it?) The tucks on the shoulders. The double row of buttons. The slim skirt with the graceful yet saucy inverted pleat. I see the blouse in ivory silk charmeuse — perhaps a 30 mummy - and the skirt in black wool crepe. (Yes, I can be quite the traditionalist. Quite. Surprised?)

Are you cooking more these days? You, frugalista, you. So am I. However. You may be pinching pennies. You may be scrambling your own eggs. But scrimp on style? No way. No how. In one word: Never! And that is where McCall's 2263 enters. It's stylish. It's sexy. It's from the fifties. And it includes three different patterns. How sensible is that? Yes. I see your accountant smiling. I do.

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh, girlfriend. I am clutching my heart over McCall's 4257, copyright 1974. It's Stephen Burrows. So you know it's glamorous. You know it's comfortable. You know it's irresistible. You know it has his trademark lettuce edging. And you know why I am having palpitations.

And, now, the fine print. You knew it was coming, you smarty. New additions always go at the beginning of each category. And we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you. And, of course, checks, money orders, and cold, hard cash.

Michelle speaks, and I listen. January 20, 2009 15:42 2 Comments

I will let you, my pretties, decide for yourselves if Michelle Obama channeled Laura Bush or Jackie Kennedy in her inaugural ensemble. Sophisticate or sofa? The choice is yours.

I will give you the details — as if you didn't already know. The dress, coat, and cardigan was designed by Isabel Toledo, stitched up in the Cuban-American designer's New York atelier by Chinese, Polish and Spanish seamstresses. It's made of Swiss wool lace and lined in French silk. Oh, girl, you are going global. Absolutely.

So. If you want to emulate our beautiful First Lady, I have several suggestions. Of course. You knew I would.

Add a ribbon to the coat in Simplicity 4194, and you'll have one like Ms. Obama's. The dress is a little spicier, certainly, but you're not the First Lady, so who cares? Show that gorgeous skin. You can do it. And. I rather like this bodice. The better to show off a statement-making necklace.

McCall's 6676, from 1962 — speaking of Jackie – offers another choice. Simple. Elegant. And, surely, surely, surely, it's not that difficult to make. Ya think?

Put your own slant on the inaugural dress and coat with Butterick 2219. It's full-skirted, sure, but the shoe-string belt pays homage to Ms. O's ensemble. And you can always make it in lemongrass. Or yellow, if you're feeling mellow. (Yes. I confess. I was practically imbedded in the TV most of the day. I did rip myself away for a few minutes to paw through The Blue Gardenia archives to find these patterns. I suffer for you. I do. I'll do anything to make you happy. Anything. Almost.)

And then there's Vogue Couturier Design 1276, designed by Michael. This is the one I would wear. Love the overblouse. Love the coat details: the flaps, the collar. In fact, know what? I love this ensemble. Period. Love it.

So. Lemongrass. Lemonade. Sunshine. Maize. Whatever. Wear a dress and matching coat. Soon. Reference our new First Lady. Go forth. Be a glimmering ray of hope. After all. It's a new dawn. It's a new day. It isn't just cliche. It isn't. I insist.

We all make mistakes. Don't we? Even Ella. January 19, 2009 09:55 2 Comments

Oh. My. God. And that, my internet buds, is a prayer. A prayer for organization. A prayer to stop clipping. A prayer to recycle Paul Krugman columns instead of saving them. (I could, after all, just read his blog, The Conscience of a Liberal. ) A prayer to find CD jewel cases. Where do they go? Are they like that one sock in a pair? That one sock that scampers off when I'm not looking. Egads!

And speaking of deities: Thank God for Ella Fitzgerald. She calms me down. She reminds me that I should reach for perfection. Absolutely. Even if I never attain it. Even if I don't get past the first step on that particular stairway.

But. Chaos is not what I intended to blog about. Let me rein myself in. Whoa. Come back, Denise, come back. Your topic awaits you.

And that topic is . . . drumroll, boys and girls . . . Renee Zellweger's frocks. This, inspired by Amanda, she of the evocative sense of place, she of Still Life in South America.

Frankly. I hated Renee's Golden Globes gown. It shocked me. Completely. I did a double take. She's usually picture perfect. Elegant. Sleek. Perfection. (To use that impossible word again. I refuse to ban it from my vocab. Despite its unpopularity these days.) As is, for that matter, Carolina Herrera, who designed both of these dresses. The black one — the miss by several miles, heck, the miss by several solar systems — is the Golden Globes nightmare. The blue one, well, I'd love to have it in my closet. Love it. It's floaty. Dreamy. Flattering. To the nth.

So. What was Ms. Zellweger thinking? She obviously misplaced her unerring sense of style. Perhaps it's run off to join my socks, my Best of Julie London and Squirrel Nut Zippers Perennial Favorites jewel cases. Anyway. I hope she finds it soon. Perhaps she can also tell my socks to come back home. And the jewel cases.

Meanwhile. I'll let Ella's Harold Arlen Songbook console me. But. I've got a right to hang around down around the river. I've got a right to moan and sigh. Mr. Arlen says so. And he wouldn't lie. I know it.

I popped the corn early. Then claimed the couch. January 11, 2009 17:05 6 Comments

I confess: I was a sofa sloth tonight. Why? Because I am a pushover for awards shows. It's true. Love the glam. Love the gowns. Love that red carpet stroll. So there.

One of my favorite dresses: Drew Barrymore's. However. Am I the only one who thought there was a disconnection between her Angie Dickenson as Pepper hair and her Jayne Mansfield dress? Not to mention her everything-in-the-Walmart cosmetics aisles makeup. Still. She looks like a girl who's having fun. Lots of it.

And then there is Ms. Longoria. Oh, Eva. Eva, Eva, Eva. You're a gal who has it going on. So why, why, why wear a dress cut so perilously low? The dress was gorgeous. Love the scallop detail. Totally. But why not have the bodice a half-inch or so higher? You do not have to try so hard. You don't. Trust me.

But. On a brighter note. A positive note. A happy, happy, joy, joy note. If I could have one look of the evening — just one, only one — I'd grab Marisa Tomei's. In a heartbeat. Love it. Love it. Absolutely. From the tiered sleeves — wedding cake, anyone, the buttercream is worth every calorie — to the necklaces to the belt, perfection. Completely.

Pines, rosemary, sun, snow: Does it get any better? January 5, 2009 13:53 1 Comment

I won't bore y'all with a lot of words today. I'll simply share the scene off our deck this morning. Above, you see one of my favorite pine trees.

And here is a rosemary that I love. So very much. The snow becomes it. Absolutely.

Our yard is gorgeous in white. Doncha think?

Shameless plug: Only 31 hours left to enjoy our once-a-year sale! January 3, 2009 11:18

Butterick 6942, Circa 1930s

Schreiner Pink Rhinestone Brooch, Circa 1950s

You want to take advantage of The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. I know you do. Frugalistas know that sewing patterns can be used again. And again. And again. This gorgeous pattern is like getting four — count 'em — four patterns in one: Sexy evening gown, smart day dress, sassy tunic and sleek coat. All high-style. All suitable for the glossy pages of Vogue. Each and every view.

And won't the coat look stunning with this lovely Schreiner New York rhinestone brooch? So collectible. So pink. So luscious. It'll knock them on their knees!

And, of course, savvy frugalistas know that The Blue Gardenia's after-Christmas sale comes but once a year. So hurry over, do, and take advantage of our sitewide sale. Treat yourself. You deserve it. I know you do. You know you do. Case settled.

The pesky details:

Buy three or more items, get 33% off! That's 33% off your total order. Sale ends Sunday, January 4, at midnight, Pacific Standard Time. On the dot. I mean it. I do. Payment must be received here, in my hands, no later than Friday at 4 p.m. Pacific Standard Time. And The Blue Gardenia happily accepts American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, checks, money orders and cold, hard cash. I aim to please. I want to make it easy for you. Absolutely.

Virginal loaves: Proof of how I spent my day off January 2, 2009 17:43

Oh, sure. I should have been shipping orders today. Should. Should. What a guilt-inducing word. Don't you hate it? However. I did not ship patterns. I did not sew. I did not manicure my brittle, chipped nails. I did not even attempt to frighten the dust bunnies. I didn't.

Instead, I loafed. I did. (Cheap pun intended. Forgive me.) All due to a Baker's Banter post on baguettes. And the fact that my favorite local bakery is closed for the holidays. And I made gumbo. So. Baguettes were necessary. Absolutely. Must have French bread with gumbo to ensure that no roux is left in the bowl. Bread is not optional.

This is the first time I've ever attempted baguettes. And I was a bit nervous . . . all right, extremely nervous . . . because I could not find instant yeast here in Prescott, AZ. So. I substituted rapid-rise yeast. Still. The dough rose. And though the bread wasn't nearly as good as Pangaea's, it was quite tasty. Quite. And pretty. Doncha think? I think I'll make more. After I finish shipping.

Shameless plug: Oh, be a frugalista, do. It's our once-a-year sale! December 26, 2008 13:09

Pictorial Review 8289, circa 1930s

Another shameless plug. Forgive me. Please. But the mortgage must be paid. The pups must have their treats. And His Bertness has a fondness for Haagen Dazs. Oh, the list, it is endless. Truly.

So. Take your seats. The curtain's rising. The drums are rolling. Etc.

I announce, without further ado, The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. And it's a doozy. Really. Purchase any three items — patterns, jewelry, mix and match — and get 33 percent off. Yup. 33 percent. Is that fabulous or what? You can buy ten, twenty, thirty items, forty even, and you'll get 33 percent off the total price. And your purchase will come lovingly shipped, as always. The patterns carefully stored in archival wrap with backing boards, the jewelry in classy boxes. And you don't have to stand in line with the riff raff. No pushing. No shoving. No smelly armpits or aching, swollen feet. So. Pour yourself a cup of cocoa, complete with marshmallows, maybe some whipped cream, and drop by. You won't regret it. And you might be wearing a frock as lovely as this one in 2009. Isn't it pretty? Isn't it smart? I think so. I do. Look at that shoulder detail. Yum. Better than whipped cream. And no fat. No calories. Double yum.

And our home will be clutter free. Yes, indeedy. December 16, 2008 13:49 1 Comment

So. Today, I did something I haven't done in years. Years. I listed a few items on Ebay. Shoes, to be precise. Pretty shoes. Lovely shoes. Shoes that don't fit my small-town, work-at-home lifestyle. Luscious Louboutins. Fabulous Fendis. Staggering stilettos. Sexy slides. Etc. Anyway. Should you wear a size 7. Should you be in the mood to shop. Should you simply be curious or bored, then check out my auction listings. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. My Ebay moniker is thebluegardenia.com. Help me clean out my closet. Help me unclutter. I beg you. After all, I've been so good. I've been so productive. I have. I deserve a bid. Or two. Or three or four or five. I do. I know Martha Stewart and Peter Walsh agree.

Learning to sew: I did it. Gulp. December 15, 2008 13:58 2 Comments

I should be jumping. I should be skipping. I should be turning lopsided cartwheels. I should be. Because I cut out my fashion fabric. The real thing.

But.

I am not jumping. I am not skipping. I am not turning any kind of cartwheel at all. Because. Because I am not sure I cut the fabric properly. The problem? The root of my apprehension? I used a vintage fabric, only 39 inches wide, and Simplicity did not supply a cutting layout for that width. Drat. Double drat. Fiddlesticks. And all that.

Here is the method behind my cutting madness: I folded the fabric horizontally, right sides together, placed the pattern pieces face down, and cut. Cut. Irrevocable. Undoable. Eeeekkk. Get me a paper bag, please. I am hyperventilating.

Tell me this will work. OK? If not, tell me what I should have done. The better to correct the mistake next time. I await your learned responses, dear readers. Really. I do. I am on pins and needles. (Yes, yes. Cheap pun. I know. Forgive me. Please. Just this once.)

Damp tissue dramas: This time, tears of joy fall like rain. December 11, 2008 15:56

Yes. Yes. I did cut out my pattern last night. I did. I was confused by the exterior jags at the bottom of each possible length, though. Why, I wondered, was there a protrusion where the shorts, capris, slacks ended? Why? So. I met a sewing bud for coffee, and she explained. The hem will pucker otherwise. Oh. Duh. You'll be happy to know the light switched on later today. Oh. Oh! I get it. I do. Really.

But. I have other topics of interest. To me, at any rate. The bathroom. You remember it. I know you do. You hang on every facet of my life. Of course you do. Don't you? Don't puncture my self-esteem if you don't. Please. I'm easily wounded. I am. Don't make me reach for those Puffs.

Well, it's almost done. Finally. Andrew, the tile master, above, is very pleased. And so am I. His trusty sidekick, Pat, is standing in the shower. The bee-yoo-tee-ful shower. Pat is wearing my favorite t-shirt slogan: Genius by birth, slacker by choice. A gift from his mommy. The tile pattern in the shower is his design, inspired by my floor design. Love those 12" by 20" floor tiles. Ummm hmmm. I do. You can see them in the pic with Andrew. In the background. Behind his smilin' mug. Love the master bath. I do. Now. Tiny, yes. So true. The size of a Twinkie. But also, well, rather attractive. If I do say so myself. Doncha think?

Inspirations: In this dress, the world is at your well-shod feet December 8, 2008 14:06 1 Comment

You thumb through your closet. What to wear to work today? What? You're not in the mood for a power suit. You want something that whispers power, gently, softly. You want something that looks smart, that will look at home in a chic cafe. Something that will be comfortable for Christmas shopping. Oh, this. Yes. Simplicity 2296. You stitched it up a mere two weeks ago in that luscious red wool crepe you bought on sale this spring. Already, you've worn it twice. But why not? It has that Maggie Prescott flair, but it's as easy as an old pair of Tod's. Yes. This is the one. Absolutely.

Junior Mints, anyone? December 7, 2008 16:59

I know. You think I've been slacking today. Reading True Detective and eating Junior Mints. Watching Lifetime. Napping. Oh. You. Doubters.

Actually, I've been working. I have. Organizing. Sorting. I have 81 spools of thread. 81. Egads! I have more zippers than I care to count. Likewise buttons. I have 21 belt buckles. I have frogs in blue, red, black, green, aqua. (Have I mentioned I am fond of style Oriental?) I am stunned. I am amazed. Truly. I did not know.

But. My sewing space is nearly organized. Soon, I can say neatly organized.

Happy, happy, joy, joy. Oh, wait . . . hasn't that been said before? Oh, well.

Shameless plug: Oh, but you're lovely. Especially in these frocks. December 5, 2008 10:32 1 Comment

Because I am passionate about patterns. Because you want something new and festive for New Year's Eve. Because Andrew the tile guy likes to be paid for his labor. Because Henry Jones and Emma like their treats. Because. I've added nearly 80 dazzling vintage patterns to The Blue Gardenia.

And, boys and girls, I do not exaggerate. I do not overstate. These patterns are ravishing. And when I say ravishing, I mean ravishing. Absolutely. So. I'll share a few — just a few – of my favorites with you.

Starting with the 1930s, Simplicity 1708. This one offers not one, but two terrific views. If you're feeling unfailingly feminine and frilly, try the version with ruffles that cascade both front and back. If you want something that's stern yet stylish, something that has a whiff of businesslike briskness for the office, the other view more than fits the bill.

On to the 1940s. If you're in the mood to release your inner glamour puss, I recommend Butterick 3789. Slide on your above-the-elbow gloves — don't they feel good - and glide, glide, glide, girl, glide across the room to the piano. Play The Way You Look Tonight. Purr the words in your sultry voice. Meow. You kitten you.

Now, slip into your traveling shoes and let's saunter to the 1960s. Pile your silky tresses atop your gorgeous noggin — ouch! Don't cross those bobby pins — and slip into Vogue Paris Original 1333. Designed by Jacques Heim, it is perfect for channeling Suzy Parker in a Grecian goddess mode. Yep. That's one sexy, sophisticated minx looking back at you in the mirror. Yes indeed.

There are so many more marvelous patterns! You'll also find new in Children, Men, Lingerie and 1950s. And, as always, new additions go at the beginning of each category to make it easier for our loyal customers (I thank you, I do). And remember, we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you.

Now. Click. Shop. Enjoy. You've been good. You deserve it. Santa told me so.

What a difference a pattern makes. Not to mention fabric. December 3, 2008 14:26 4 Comments

I've been scared. I've been ashamed. I've been embarrassed. So. I've been hiding under the bed. Red-faced. Itchy. All because I haven't been sewing. I haven't even attempted to sew. I've been a dressmaking slacker. Forgive me.

Henry Jones did talk me out from under the bed. Finally. At last. You see, that's where he sleeps. He was losing patience. Scowling. (Yes. Some expressive dogs do scowl. And Henry is nothing if not expressive.)

So. I picked out a different fabric. A simple vintage cotton. Something I found at an estate sale about fifteen years ago. Or so. It's pink. It's gay. It's cheerful. Optimistic even. I changed my pattern choice. I went in a completely different direction. Completely. I lowered my expectations. To pajamas. Or pajama bottoms, to be precise. To a 1 Hour Simplicity pattern. Or so the fine folks at Simplicity promise.

I've washed the fabric. I've pressed it. I am ready to go. Really. I am.

So. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. I'll cut. Wait and see. Don't be skeptical.

Calling all seamstresses: Tell me what you think, please November 23, 2008 13:09 4 Comments

So. Questions for you dressmakers: Has anyone used a Simplicity "How to Sew" pattern? Are these patterns good teaching tools for newbies like me? And are the finished garments attractive? I await your responses. In fact, I am on pins and needles. Share. Don't make me suffer. Please. I beg you.

Shameless plug: We've got style if you want it. And you do. November 20, 2008 09:10

Are you in the mood to sew? Are you in the mood to look stunning?

Are you in the mood to wear an ensemble no one else has? Well. You are in luck. Because why, you ask with breathless anticipation and perhaps a wee, tiny bit of skepticism. Because. The Blue Gardenia has just added patterns! Yep. It's true. And not just any pattern. Not any of those dull suburban hausfrau rags. No. Outstanding patterns. Stupendous patterns. Patterns deserving of the highest superlatives. Perfect for the party season patterns. Perfect for the cold weather patterns. A few of my favorites:

1930s

Wanna channel Myrna Loy? Then do not miss - I repeat: Do not miss the Simplicity coats. Yep, that's right. Not one, but two Simplicity coats that are smart enough for Nora Charles. Two. I'm so excited.

Sleek and sexy and drapey evening gowns. Several. Just imagine: You're a chanteuse. Leaning against a piano. Gazing coolly at him. And him. And him. You stun. You amaze. You ensnare. You are it, babe. It.

1950s

A Vogue Couturier that is the cat's. Totally. Completely. This is what Betty Draper should be wearing when she goes to the city. Not those boring suits that give tweed a bad name. Not those drab house-wifey numbers with the can-cans out to there. She is a former fashion model. After all. She looks like Grace Kelly. After all. Didn't she see Rear Window? Didn't she?

Lingerie

1930s bed jacket - just in case you plan to lounge in bed while he fries your eggs. Let's hope he doesn't burn them in his haste to get back to your bedroom.

Aprons

1940s McCall that is so feminine. It's got flowers and bows. Flowers and bows. Oh my. Is that too much? Is that over the top? Nah. I think not. It is an apron. It can be frilly. It can be saccharine. Sickeningly so. If that's what you want.

You'll also find new in 1920s, 1960s and Children. Yes. His Bertness and I have been working oh-so-hard.

So. Rush right on over. Shop, shop, shop. Then shop some more. And if you're feeling frugal, remember, you can reuse a pattern. They are so economical in the long run. Really. Truly. I would not steer you astray. I wouldn't. Because I'm your fan.

I self-tan, therefore I am. November 18, 2008 14:02 1 Comment

All right. It’s cheap. It’s cheesy. It is. But there ya go.

At any rate. The point of this post is to share my knowledge, my experience about tans in tubes. And the first tidbit I will share: Keeping that golden glow is high-maintenance. Very. Assuming, that is, you get it in the first place.

So. I tried not one, not two, but three — yep, three! — self-tanners. I suffer for you, dear readers. I do.

First, Jergens Natural Glow Daily Moisturizer. This one, allegedly, firms. Sorry. You may be able to get color in a tube, but firmer skin? Not hardly. I believe you get firmer skin the old-fashioned way: diet. Exercise. Youth.

Second, Dove Energy Glow Beauty Body Lotion. The Jergens gave me a slightly browner hue, the Dove, golden, as advertised. Who'd uh thunk it? The third brand I purchased was for my face: Peter Thomas Roth. It did nothing. My face remained Kleenex pale.

Anyway. Some caveats:

You cannot slather the tanner on and go. No. You must wait until your skin dries before you sit down. Before you dress. So. Blow-dry your hair. Read a short story. Get on your treadmill. Prance. Whatever. But don’t sit. Don’t dress. And do not do not do not put on socks. Don’t. I can tell you that putting on socks too soon — for instance, within forty-eight hours or so — causes white horizontal bands to form around your ankles. I’m sure there are some who find this look appealing. I do not.

You must try to apply equal amounts to all portions of your skin. Really. This is very hard. It takes focus. My mind wanders. Here. There. Across the street. I have not yet achieved legs that are evenly brown. One is always noticeably darker. I am optimistic, though. I am sure that practice will make perfect.

Further, to maintain the sun-kissed look, you have to reapply every few days. The look fades. Since I tend to feel putting on moisturizer and under-eye cream is a bother, I don’t have to waste your time telling you how annoying I find re-applying the tanning lotion every few days. Because. Of course. First, I must exfoliate with a scrub. Then shave. The time consumed. Ugh.

Still. It is fun. Kind of. Sort of. In a time-consuming, beauty-does-too-know-pain kind of way.

You'll just have to wait for my thoughts on Ms. Palin's clothes November 9, 2008 14:56 2 Comments

I was going to blog today, but I napped instead. For four hours. Four. Is that sleeping briefly, as Webster's defines napping? Mmmmmm. Yes. Yes. I think so. I do. Definitely. But by whatever name, it was blissful. Completely.

Inspirations: I hear my Bernina calling my name. Yes, indeedy. November 2, 2008 13:59 1 Comment

Well. I share good news. Great news, in fact. Andrew the Tile Guru told beloved hubby yesterday that he’s at the halfway point on the bathroom tile. Yippee skippee. I repeat: Yippee skippee.

So. Guess what, my blog-reading friends? I am dreaming of sewing again. Yes. I am. And this Hannah Troy design is one powerful inspiration. Alluring. Magnetic. Absolutely. Look at the neckline. Curvy lines. Plunging lines. Sexy. Yet graceful. Very. I see it in coral taffeta. The full-skirt version for night. Of course. For hours of unrestricted dancing pleasure.

For day, the hug-the-hips version in a charcoal wool. Perhaps single-faced. Perhaps crepe. Either would be irresistible. Completely.

Oh, Bernina, machine of mine, do you miss me?

This is what happens when I attempt to get organized October 29, 2008 18:49 4 Comments

Discarding. Cleaning. Sorting. Unpleasant, tedious tasks, true, but sometimes, among the dust, the dirt, the ancient bank statements, the Post-Its that no longer stick, one finds jewels. Yes, indeedy.

An example, this 1950s picture of my parents, snapped long before I arrived. It's always been a favorite. And it inspired a poem I wrote several years ago. Yep, I am going to share it with you, dear readers. I am. Allow me this self-indulgence. Please.

You may tell me what you think. You may. In fact, I beseech you. I beg you. I plead. Divulge. Unless, of course, you hate the poem. Then you can keep those thoughts to yourself. I don't want to know. I don't. Because I am sensitive. Tender. Vulnerable. Absolutely. Anyway, you remember what your momma said. Right? And you always do what your momma said. I know you do. Yes, ma'am. You bet. But Billie Holiday said it, too. If you can't say anything real nice . . . . Oh. Heck. Ignore her if you wish. Be brutal. If you must. If you must.

'56 Snapshot

They stand

Together

In black and white.

He is lean.

A strand of linguine

In faded jeans,

And scuffed boots,

Hair as springy as risen dough.

She is curvy.

A bottle of Youth-Dew perfume.

Her smile is radiant,

As full of promise,

As a red-leafed shoot on a rosebush.

His arms envelop her.

His chin rests on her shoulder.

Her chin tilts skyward,

a haughty falcon

atop the Chrysler Building.

She is

Defiant.

Her eyes flash:

I

will choose

who I love.

His grin boasts:

I am the cat.

I have the canary.

They stand.

Together.

They dare the future.

Black and white.

And gray.

(And soon, Ms. Still Life In Buenos Aires, I will tell all I know about self-tanning lotions. Because you asked. And I will deliver. Soon.)

My hubby is becoming a one-man DIY network. Really. October 26, 2008 17:52 1 Comment

You remember the bathroom? Right? The roof. The Cadet. The tile. (I know. I know. You are bored with this topic. Enough, you scream. Move on, you cry. But. I am stubborn. And this is my subject. Today.)

So. Amid this turmoil — or home improvement, if you prefer — the porch door knob stopped working. Yes. This severely hampered entering the house. In fact, to open the door, brutal manhandling was necessary. I am not pulling your leg. I am talking about the type of forceful manhandling that could easily end in a dislocated shoulder. (Unless, of course, you're beautiful, strong, nimble Laila Ali.)

Anyway. This malfunction, in addition to the front door handle, which hasn’t worked since long before we bought this house, precipitated an unexpected — therefore unbudgeted — expense: New doorknobs and locks. The company that made our old door hardware stopped making all but decorative hardware years ago, so a simple replacement wasn't an option. Alas. And the last time we called a locksmith, the bill was $900. So. His Bertness, Mr. Handyman Not, had to do it himself. With some help from a number-crunching friend. It took much longer than planned. And His Bertness only completed one door today. But. That one door works. Truly. The door opens. Really. I am beaming like a proud apron-wearing, spatula-wielding 1950s wife. Of course, now the paint (Pratt & Lambert Whirlpool Blue. Isn’t it fetching? Love it love it love it.) will have to be touched up. But isn’t the door handle gorgeous? Yes, ma’am. It most certainly is. I think I'll whip up a cake from scratch to celebrate.

The Blue Gardenia