Paint jobs

Creative title, huh? Whatever, you guys.

Remember when I showed you these old boots that I rescued from the bins at the Goodwill Outlet? You don't? Whatever, you guys. Anyway, I got some red shoe polish on Amazon.

 

There's a picture of my boots in the process of being polished. It actually worked out quite well. 

See? The boot on the left is "before polish." I actually considered a DIY on the other problem:

Look at that heel. The bottom of it is not there. Could I wear them as is? Could I MacGuyver it with some kind of material? Well, there is an old-timey cobbler down the street.

Look! They put brand new heels on both of them! For about $10! They're just so great.

Remember Valentine's Day? For V Day, I also painted something. This:

So, that's a Funko Pop. They're little dolls with large heads, black eyes, and no emotion in the image of your favorite characters from everything. That one's got some weird French name and is from the TV show, True Blood. Did you know that people customize these things? Because I thought that French doll beared a resemblance to former WAW wrestler, Christian Sain.

(Sorry, no pic, I'll find one later.)

So, here's what I did...

I painted it. He's got wrestling tights now.

Here's Chris! As a Pop! Look at the back:

I drew Chris' tattoo with a Sharpie! Happy Valentine's, *bae.

*Bae is a perfectly acceptible term when used ironically.

Valentine Girl

Title courtesy of one of my favorite New Kids on the Block song Valentine Girl.
I feel like I may have done a post like this, but I'm pretty sure I just wanted to but didn't. This post is a tribute to the over the top style of Betsey Johnson.

For years, I worked at TJ Maxx, usually in accessories or at the jewelry counter. I used to love it when we got Betsey Johnson handbags and such. I tend to wear a lot of black, but I had a strong appreciation for Betsey's prints; specifically the roses.

So, here's the starter:

For a Valentine's day at school (so, Friday the 12th) I took out this nightie that I bought at GW because the large rose print reminded me of the fabulous Ms. Johnson. So, how do I turn a satiny nightgown into clothes? Answer: by wearing it with shoes and going outdoors in it.

Of course, it had a hole in it up on the shoulder seam. I sewed some lace binding on it so that I could legally call this a refashion even though it's really just a restyle.

See? Lace shoulders. I fancied it up. By the way, it was colder than...um, a place or thing that is known for being very cold. Write your own hyperbolic metaphor, I got nothing. I had to layer this thing good. Here's the after shot, taken at the end of they day, not much makeup.

I put my nightie over some fleece leggings and a long sleeved top. I belted it and put my boots on, even added a sweater (which I didn't need). I got several compliments. No one knew it was sleepwear! Suckers!

Cool label, huh?

Baby, It's Cold Outside

So that's a song played at Christmas time, but it's actually just winter themed and not holiday specific. It's been covered so many times, and here's my version:
The female voice starts, "I really can't stay."
"Baby, it's cold outside," the guy counters.
"I've got to go away."
"Ok, I understand and respect your decision, send a text when you're home, so I know you've arrived safely," is what the dude says. So, they go their separate ways for the night and he couldn't have been more courteous about it.
So, here's the "before" picture of a 70s, polyester dress. I had a hard time capturing the color. It's a color I would've loved as a kid, like a sea green. Maybe it's mint.

 As you may have guessed, this post is a refash and I used that title because I realize that I probably should've taken more off this dress (the sleeves, for one). So, you're looking at me like, "Why don't you shorten that?" and I'm like, "Baby it's cold outside." Maybe I will do that, but for now it's long and with sleeves.
So, I returned home on Thursday and was prepared to get back to work on Friday. I was up drinking coffee and I was going to wear this finished dress. Then it started snowing. So, then school was canceled.

 This picture is around two months old, my hair looked short. Look at that big pointy collar and those strap things. The sleeves were kinda pooffy, and they used to have elasticized sleeves. So, I did some stuff.

I got rid of those things in front and I cut that big pointy thing right down the middle. Then I pinned 'em outward so I can make a big, pointy collar.

I cut those things down the center on the back of the dress. I probably had a plan, but in the end I just sewed them back together so that they were tighter and kept the the dress from falling off.

I took in the sleeves a bit! Big shoulders have always been my nemesis. I de-pooffed them at the top, letting them bell out a little at the elbow. As you see in the before pics, the dress didn't have a waist and was basically a potato sack. Gonna have to belt this.
Here it is:

Most of the time, if I buy a 70s dress; I want a 70s dress. I didn't really update the dress. I just made it cuter.

There's a blurry pose, there's the back.

 

There's me taking a bow, and here's the "before and after."

 

That-that-that-that don't kill me...

(Please sing this post's title, as it is lyrics to "Stronger" as performed by Kanye West.)

Who has a dad that's still alive? This chick.

He did it. I'm typing incredulously, as I sit with my mom and sister in our hotel suite alongside the state of the art Cleveland Clinic. My dad survived an intense, all-day, high risk cardiac surgery; his third time under the knife for a valve replacement. When the cardiologist here we met gave us some real talk last week, he really made it clear that this was serious business, considering the danger of operating on a heart. The analogy he used was "we're on a humanitarian mission but it's deep in ISIS territory." I had good reason to fear the worst.
Somehow they pulled it off.

I sincerely apologize if the caption to my pic up there is a little insensitive. I'm terribly sorry for any readers who don't have a living father. 

Because, had certain things been different, I might not have been taking a selfie with my "thumbs up" and cheesy smile. My parents are not rich people, but it became clear on this trip that they (and by proxy, myself) have certain privileges. At no time did we ever have to worry about how we were going to pay for this. All we had to worry about was my dad's health, not how we'd get by financially.
This hotel suite in which my family is resting comfortably isn't free, nor where the plane tickets that brought us here. Not to mention that we all have jobs where we were able to get time off from work.It saddens me to think that not every family is so fortunate.

In my last post I wrote about how cruel this world was when my healthy, hardworking, loving father has to suffer. Other men and women (some in my extended family) have been spending their lives smoking cigarettes and holding onto other deadly habits. For them to outlive my dad would be a real kick in the face and that idea prompted someone to say this. "And that's when you know that no one's looking out for you," with a hand pointed skyward. 

Ooooh, serious looking bathroom selfie. If you're thinking an intense subject matter is coming up, you'd be correct.

That subject is my faith and what I'm confessing is; I don't have any.
I know that people who share my beliefs aren't exactly the most popular. In fact, I'm betting that here in the lifestyle blogosphere atheism will go over about as well a turd in an organic, kale yogurt. (That's what lifestyle bloggers eat, right?)

Hey, when it comes to popularity, atheists are gaining some. In some polls, we're second to last place--just above Muslims!

Say...how about that grown up coloring trend? 

 I'm a peacock! You gotta let me fly! 

This blog post has a point and I'm leading up to it. I appreciate every prayer said on behalf of my family. I don't look down on those who have faith. Hey, maybe all the praying is what helped my dad pull through, what do I know. Cemeteries are full of people who had faith and hope, both rich and poor. I just think it would be naive of me to thank God for a miracle when a poorer man may not have survived.

There are people that don't have those privileges that afforded my father to travel in order to get opinions from two of the best hospitals in the country. He's a top guy at his place of work, the same job that he has had for decades. He has insurance. My dad has the means to get the absolute best in medical care. What about those people who don't have good insurance and can't take time off from work to travel to get high quality healthcare? 

I guess we pray for them. I mean no offense to those with faith, but I can't help but think it was probably the gifted surgeons who saved my dad's life. 

As a snarky, sarcastic gal, I like to make statements that fly in the face of tradition inspirational quotes. You know, stuff like "everything happens for a reason."

Ha ha, lol, a beach with some sorta sentiment in the sky. 

Nothing happens for a reason! Nothing in this world is destiny! The reason it wasn't my dad's time to go is his life was saved by incredible doctors. That's what I saw, so that's what I believe. That's how those of us without faith operate and I can't change how I feel.
He's not completely out of the woods yet, so if anyone still wants to pray for me...please do. It certainly can't hurt.
Thank you for all of your support, people!

Not the vacation I'd hoped for

Instagram says I'm at the airport in Boston. Here I am waiting to depart to the destination in which I am currently located. Guess what city I am currently in...

You get it, right? Here's a cool video anyway.

 

In recent blog posts I wrote about my dad's illness. He spend several weeks in Boston's Brigham and Women's hospital which is one of the best. I shudder to think of what could have happened had my dad been without insurance and a good salary. He was sent home on a continuous IV of antibiotics in hopes of stopping the infection. Replacing the faulty heart valve would be too risky.
That brings us here. His cardiologist consulted the Cleveland Clinic, which is ranked as one of the best hospitals in the U.S. for another opinion and they wanted to see him. Before I could wrap my head around this, my family was bound for Ohio.

 That's me and my dad in a quick selfie from the airport. He is currently over at the hospital enduring all sorts of testing crap right now. He's so brave. He's so positive and hopeful. While we sat around in his room an hour ago, he was smiling. He was his usual self.
That's why it's absolutely unthinkable that my dad could possibly not survive this. It just can't happen.
In the depths of my mind, I rant about the injustice this is. It's not freakin' fair that he should suffer like this and have a shorter lifespan. You see, Dad is someone who did everything right. Worked hard in school, went to college, married Mom, bought a house with Mom, and then raised two daughters. Dad is annoyingly healthy with his habits. Never smoked and drinks only wine and cocktails on the occasion. He wakes up early and then exercises in his basement gym set-up every damn morning before work. And he likes to eat healthy stuff like fresh fruit all the time.

But as luck would kick you in the ass as it tends to do, Dad was born with some defective heart valves. And that is his lot in life and he carries it with fucking grace.

Taken from a family friend's FB because I'm typing this from a hotel.

To be continued.

The Thrifts

It's been a while since I've shared any recent acquisitions and since I want to refer to myself as a blogger, here are some things.
On a recent trip to the Goodwill Outlet store (you know..."the bins") I made a nice little haul, and found some good shit. Colorful stuff like this:

It wasn't until some of the last bin searches that I found that kick-awesome patchwork quilt. Already sold it. I love handmade vintage, because it's often one of a kind and usually quite well made. Also this tiny one was with it.

As you may be aware of; I've got baggage.

That little blue one. Wait--I don't remember if I actually dragged that out of the bins on this trip. Actually, I think I've just been blowing it off since I brought it home from the trip before this one. Glad we cleared that up.

That gray tweed one is great, it looks very old time-y. The interior was discolored, so check out what I did:

Mod Podged with wrapping paper. Easy fix, let's see if someone wants it.

That's a picture of the plaid piece of luggage when I brought it it. It was filthy. So, I cleaned it and soon realized the straps were breaking off. It's in that vintage merchandise purgatory now, where I can't decide what to do with it.
And finally, I also took a picture of the incredible red boots that were worn AF. (Do we capitalize AF? I'm not so hip to what the kids are saying.) I cannot find this picture. I say that a lot, but I swear I snapped a pic before I gently washed the dirt off. Fine, it's dark but I took a new "before" pic because I'm really psyched about these sweet kicks.

Bad picture of some roughed up boots. Don't worry though, the red shoe polish I ordered on Amazon just came in, I'm gonna try and make these work.
Other finds include the following:

Cute, little crewel embroideries that were each marked $1; half off. That's $0.50 each, braniacs. Like the above mentioned quilt, these sold soon after I listed them.
I've got furniture.

Mid century metal stand/rack/shelf/side table! I live for these things. Also...

It's a little foot rest! Looks a little small to be called an ottoman. The green vinyl seat thing swivels, which seems a bit unnecessary.
I'm done for the night. Here's a preview of a refashion I finished about a week back.

The British are coming!

It's a refashion. The refashion resembles a military-esque, red garment. A Redcoat? Get it? The red coats worn by the British during the Revolutionary War? Thanks, Paul Revere.
I may appear to be in good spirits, but I assure you that I am scared, sad, and weak. Were I last left off, I was awaiting cardiac surgery for my father. The team opted not to do surgery as it is just too risky. He is now home with a steady stream of antibiotics coursing through his bloodstream. Now, there's a man in good spirits. Last Sunday, he gave us a dire warning which included the words "it may not be a very long life." Those words have been circling my mind, filling me with dread since I heard it.
Let's break from the story here for the "before" picture.

 So, it's some kind of long, red vest? It appealed to me as soon as I saw it, and after much deciding, I bought it from the Goodwill at full price.

 Look what's happening up in that shoulder area.

See? The arm holes were not sewed in place properly and excess material just flopped out. Also, I'll admit to having wide hips, but this dress seems to accentuate them up to 11.
I return to my regular scheduled program:
There comes a time for a child to grow up and for the roles of caregiver to switch so that the child can take care of the parent. My mom told us that my sister and I needed to be strong for her. I sobbed and said that I'm never strong and that I still need my dad.
 Luckily for me, there he was. I sat next to him on the couch and he held me in his arms, kissing the top of my head. Instead of being brave I was weak, and the dad that I should be tough for was once again being tough for me. He reassured us that he had hope, that his doctors had hope and that we should too. I just wanted him to hold me forever and never leave my side.
So, that's pretty sad. Let's see some steps to my little outfit, ok?

I lowered the neckline a bit. 

Then I did that "taking up the shoulders" trick that I use because I'm short. Sometimes, it actually works. What I did to this garment is very reminiscent of what I did with this costume (click the link, it's fabulous). 

So, a couple steps seem to be missing from my pics. I used one of those clip dealies that take in the back of a dress to nip the waist a bit. Then, I used a black fabric marker to color in the fake pocket areas. The after:

It's like a sleeveless coat thing. Layered over tight black clothes.

What occasion is this even for? Can I wear it to work? I mean should I?