M. Butterfly

I think there is a special place in hell for whatever cosmic evil invented '80s anthem rock. It's likely the most horrifying musical "sound" on the planet. Which is why I find it so hilarious - and I'll deny it if you ever run into me at a party - that I just downloaded Mimi's version of I Want to Know What Love Is. You know, it's that horrendous song by Foreigner. (I can only hope y'all are too young to remember the original.)

Perhaps I have little recourse since I'm referring to Ms. Carey by her self-proclaimed nickname circa 2005, but honestly, you listen to the cover and then tell me if I'm nuts.

Brief Sidebar to Patient Reader: Please forgive me my semi-constant lapses into old-person, I remember when-isms. I appear to be having a pre-40th birthday "embrace the future" (the far future) moment. Regular, utterly youthful Kristin will return at an undisclosed time and location. Wearing a bikini!

But back to the topic at hand, Mimi manages to elevate a truly horrible song, with her invincible squeakitude. And some kick ass production. I hear she executive produced the majority of her latest album. So good on her for knowing how to make her wrecked (if genetically blessed) pipes sound terrific. Admittedly, she's got a really good gospel choir on speed-dial.

I guess that doesn't hurt, huh?

I tell you, I've always been in her camp. Whitney Houston just bugged my ass from Day One.

I'm happy to see her in a (seemingly) sweet relationship with that child young man she's married to. He does appear to love her, in addition to the lifestyle. C'mon, she's got some serious assets, she's not ashamed to flaunt. And, instead of fleeing from embarrassment, he's all out there praising her hotness and re-taking his wedding vows. Way to encourage self-expression.

As far as I'm concerned, Ms. Carey is a sartorial train-wreck. I am always amazed, amused, repelled and shocked by what she wears (or doesn't wear) on the latest red carpet. But I get the impression that's who she is, as far as she's concerned and, if you're not buying in, then you can fuck right off. I respect that. And a pretty tight song.

The woman's a professional.

Maybe You'd Prefer Something A Little Grander...

Photo courtesy of Desire to Inspire

With a pool!

Warning: I think we are headed into the pool photo time of year...

Her Aim is True

I’ll be away for the next few days, in North Carolina, to visit my family and to attend my sister’s M.Ed. graduation. This higher degree is impressive by any standards, but all the more so because my sister managed the achievement while a) going through a rather terrible divorce (is there any other kind?) b) taking care of 2 tiny girls and c) working full time. Of course, she couldn’t have done it without the constant support of my parents with whom she lived, with the children, while she got her life together after her marriage ended. My parents were the extra hands and feet (and wheels) – integral to cooking, pick-up, homework, babysitting and providing love and care for 3 kids (let’s not except my sister) still whirling from emotional whiplash.

The end of a marriage is a loss even to those on its periphery. It’s the end of innocence, of long-held (but inaccurate) perspectives, the death of day-to-day relatedness and trust. Many people grieved my sister’s “failed marriage”, non-functional as it was. It’s not for me to publicly discuss the father of my nieces, but my former BIL worked masterfully to make a hard situation that much harder – on this, we have the corroboration of the courts. All I can say is, till you’ve seen someone scrape herself off the floor and scratch her way independence, it’s challenging to imagine the scene. Alas, it’s an effective way to reframe “failed marriage” as “successful self-determination” – which has a nice ring to it, you have to admit.

My sister has always cherished children – what they symbolize and who they are. She’s one of those people beloved by kids. She has a sunny smile and a friendly voice. She listens and cares. She wants – expects – her students to reach their potential, which I'm sure they do.

As for her own children, as they grow and achieve their many life goals, they’ll continue to look to their mother as a force for positive change, a strong, sensitive mentor – someone whose voice is credible during the rough times because she’s been there and she didn’t give up. After all, what better gift can we give our children than to be our own best selves?

This post is to congratulate my sister on a life reclaimed: To Allison – and to her grand success!

(Please feel free to leave a comment - which I'm sure she'd love...)

Totally Fun Tag

Mardel tagged me to show my 6th blog photo, which (till I went searching) I could not have remembered for money.

Here it is (M, my daughter, aged almost 8):


Seriously, isn't this kid a total cutie?? She's so little here - with bangs.

I'm terrible at passing along these tags - please do it if it appeals to you. It's fun and nostalgic!

Urban Gardens

Ah, to be amongst the ultra-chic Apartment Therapy crowd... (I do love tidy, geometric spaces.)

If you enjoy a gorgeous, pared-down city garden, then check this out.

President or Comedian? You decide.

Honestly, check this out. President Obama is HILARIOUS - and nervy. To wit:

"I had my hopes set on the Nobel Prize for Physics - but you can't win them all..."

You have to love a guy who refers to "Notorious GOP"!

Best and Worst

I started wondering, on my way to work today (while drinking my daily double dry from Ella's Uncle - the best coffee place in the city, IMO) about the texture of fabric and why I love some and dislike others.

It was a scarily long, convoluted mental conversation I had with myself...

As you probably know, my fave textiles are cashmere (woven or knit, but mostly knit) and dark blue denim (with a bit of stretch, 90 weight). But which ones don't I like at all? I'm loathe to suggest anything. Everytime I do, I find 3 examples of someone utterly chic, rocking a look, and I have to take it all back. But really, in general, I don't like linen or chambray.

I don't like the nub of linen, its tendency to wrinkle in the direction of any body part you'd prefer to downplay, it's stiffness (though I know it isn't all stiff). Chambray is just so dull and reminiscent of the '80s. It drapes terribly over breasts. Makes them look lumpen and matronly. Of course, cut contributes tremendously to the fabric challenges I'm referring to here. And I'm speaking of these fabrics specifically on me, and (in general) on others I've seen.

I'm just saying - you're not going to find me in a linen skirt and chambray blouse any time soon.

But how about you? Share with me your fabric fave and the one you will never wear. I'm curious to know.