Holes in My Head

My girls got their ears pierced this weekend. In a wacky, midlife crisis-like move, I got two extra piercings in my left ear. A few extra ear holes seemed like a better, less messy option than a hole in my head, which is what I felt like doing. Yes, it was a tough weekend.

For now the bonus holes are plugged with mini cz studs out of the starter earring box. But when I can wear what I want, I'm so putting in one of these darling cupcake stud earrings that I found on Etsy by CatherineMarissa.

Hoodies Rock!

If there's anything I've learned from watching "What Not To Wear," it's that there is such a thing as too many hoodies.

That, plus it's pronounced "OM pyr" waist and not EM-pire. Did you know that? I sure didn't. Of course, I used to pronounce khaki "cocky" when I was in seventh grade, too.

But back to hoodies. I so love them. I love how throwing one over a silky, ruffled blouse instantly tones the fancy shirt down to appropriate Tucson wear. I love how they look with dressy, Anthropologie-esque skirts. J Crew does it best with its many hoodie incarnations — from sherpa to lightweight cotton to cashmere — pairing them beneath suit jackets or long pearl necklaces.

If a person can have two achilles heels, then one of mine would be for hoodies. The other, of course, is shoes.

What's worse still about my hoodie habit is that I'm gravitating toward expensive ones. Isn't that so wrong? Something noted for comfort and casualness costing in excess of $150? Insane.

Yet, I adore this Mike & Chris hoodie. The brand, known for its freakishly-overpriced, crazy-casual clothes added ruffles. What a great feminine touch to a unisex clothing item.

Haute Hippie threw in ruching on the front and sleeves of this hoodie. Love, love, love. It's whimsical and fun and — I feel dirty even just typing in such a price tag — $215. The MC hoodie, compared to that, is a bargain at $176. Now, that's just obscene. You could buy about 5 laptops for kids in third-world countries for that money. So, they won't be migrating into my closet any time soon. But if there's ever a 95-percent off sale, all deals are off.

Ahhhh, a new credit card cycle

This is so bad — I'm only a week into the new credit card cycle and I already have to cut myself off. I'm not over-budget (yet), but I do want a bit o' wiggle room in case something I desperately need becomes evident.

This month, most of the damage was done at Stems — A Shoe Boutique on fabulous shoes of all heights. My surgically repaired foot is feeling good and the swelling's down. Obviously.

These Stuart Weitzman "Phoenix" shoes are teeteringly high, but thanks to the platform, I can walk. I wore them all day at work Friday and neither tootsie was barking.

My sensible purchase was a pair of these Ugg flats. They've got the cuddly-soft sheepskin on the bottom. After I'm done with this posting, I'm so going to Google Tucson's weather forecast for the week. It's got to drop below 100. It MUST. NOW. Because I so want to wear these.

And because two pairs is never enough, I got these Betseyville wedges. The purple patent just pops (say that three times fast). The oversized buckle is a touch witchie-poo in a good way. The mirrored wedge is just plain cool.

I bought this dress from Revolveclothing.com. From T by Alexander Wang, it's made of rayon so it just slides right on. Sadly, my badonkadonk is bigger than this model's, so the dress doesn't quite have the same slouchy drape, but I still think I can pull it off. I'm going to layer it over bright, cami-strapped athletic-type bras for a shock of color. But I really want to winterize it with black motorcycle boots and a grandpa cardigan over it (that'll camoflage the butt n' hips).

And, for my last unnecessary purchase — this metallic tank. It's hard to tell from the photo, but it does have a lovely metallic sheen. I missed out on some similar J. Crew molten tanks because they sold out so quickly. This Free People one I might like even better because of that ice-blue color.

Fur! Motorcycle jacket!

Two words: Holy crap.

Another two words: Fur moto.

This Saks e-mail just found its way to my crowded in-box. The black moto jacket on the far left happens to be real (and spectacular).

I don't believe in wearing the real deal. But if I could find a faux fur moto, I think I'd snap up that sucker like a towel in a men's locker room.

Friday Shoe Haiku

Brown and bodacious
New Stuart Weitzman sandals
Will they kill my feet?

When Mom Jeans Try To Be Cool

These are called Not Your Daughter's Jeans. Which is just a long name for Mom Jeans.

All the high-end stores are selling 'em, and Neiman is marketing them as cool and fashion-forward.

I'm sorry, but they're sooo not. See that not-in-a-good-trendy-way high waist? That's the same cut you'd find on $20 Wal-Mart jeans. And when the 98-pound, 6-foot-tall model wearing them still looks dowdy, there is no hope for us regular-size folk.

Thanks, but I'll stick to my low-rise jeans and just keep sucking in the gut.

Making Scents

When I was little, my favorite thing ever was when the Avon lady came to visit. She'd bring a tote bag filled with new things for my mom to try. Naturally, I was right there in the mix, sniffing and trying on lotions.

What I really adored, though, was the perfume in those darling decanters. One Christmas, I received a kitty perfume container. Her white, plastic head had a pink bow, and she wore a white shirt. Her swirling blue skirt was ceramic. You unscrewed the top half of her body and inside was a girlish, flowery scent.

By the time I was in high school, I'd progressed to Elizabeth Arden's Sunflowers. Then, I switched to Calvin Klein's Eternity. I happily wore perfume for years. But something happened after I got pregnant with my first child. Perfume became my enemy.

Now, I've always been sensitive to smells but it reached police-dog levels 10 years ago. My sense of smell was like a super power. (Wow — what would that costume look like? Big nose? Green uniform?) It's stayed with me. When I was pregnant with my second child, I actually wore a full-on respirator to change No.1's diaper.

These days, strong perfume or aftershave sends me over the edge. If someone hugs me, I smell the perfume for hours. The first thing I do when one of my magazines arrives is rip out all the scented pages.

Just a few days ago, this woman sat down next to me. If I had to guess, I'd say she owned three dogs — and that none of them had been bathed in at least a year. I moved.

So, fragrance is not my friend. But I sooooo want to be BFFs with something. I need a signature scent.

The Philosophy Grace scents were my go-to for awhile. They're quite light and fresh. I adored Baby Grace. But, once again, for some reason, I turned on it. I still enjoy Pure Grace, which has a light, soap-and-water clean scent, but not as much as I used to.

My dream fragrance would be like warm clothes pulled right from the dryer. Sheets hanging on a clothesline, drying in the warm sun. A freshly washed face. A just-opened bar of milky-white soap. The grass after a sprinkling of rain.

I think there's something perfect out there. I think I even know what it is. Clean — the fragrance line known for its, well, clean scents — has something new called Simply Soap. I tracked it down at Sephora, but would you believe it had just arrived and Mr. Unhelpful Sales Guy wouldn't open the bottle for a whiff? Seems only two boxes had arrived. Not enough to make one a tester. Phooey.

So, I'm still sniffing.