Quirky Cool

A Cheap Dye Job

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

A favorite pair of jeans is like … a favorite pair of jeans.  Really, once you’ve broken in a pair that fits your backside to perfection, they really are an irreplaceable treasure.

I was switching out my winter and spring wardrobe the other day and pulled out my most favorite pair of summer capris I’ve ever owned.  Ever.  I confess I’ve even fallen asleep in them a few times, they’re that comfortable, and I don’t ever say that about denim.  I’m more of a lover of yoga pants, but these denim capris have the perfect amount of stretch and softness.  They are my favey faves. 

I’ve washed them a zillion times and they were showing it.  Everyone has their preference when it comes to the perfect shade of denim, but for me, these were way too faded to be worn out of the house.  These days as I creep closer to 40, I’m hopelessly devoted to dark wash, it’s just a little more slimming ay?

Meet my beloved crop denim jeans in their saddest state.

faded capri jeans before

 

Notice the excessively deep crouch lines.

faded jeans before

 

No, I did not say crotch, I said crouch.  I would never use the word crotch in a blog post, I’m too much of a lady.  I’ve earned these crouch lines cleaning up after kids and all those squats I do every day for the benefit of my gluteus maximus.  Actually that last part isn’t true, I can’t remember the last time I did a squat for the sake of exercise alone. 

I simply could never part with these jeans because they fit me so well, but mostly because this pair tells me two things I want to hear every single day of my life and it’s written right on the Jolt tag.  They are my daily affirmation.

“Live Your Own Dream, Follow Your Heart”

and

“You’re a size 5!”

live your dream affirmation

 

My scale begs to differ.

scale talking

Must be all that cheese

Scales are such Debbie Downers.

 

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The Miracle of Cheese

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

A few weekends ago on a whim, I signed up for a cheese making class.  I don’t know why it’s taken me over 35+ years to do so, because one thing is true.  I revere cheese.  Or should I say, cheese is my Kryptonite.  It weakens me.  Yes, chocolate is tempting, champagne and wine are equally desirable (and quite frankly necessities), but the reason I will never be a Size 2 can be summed up in one word.  Cheese. 

There are several things in life that go hand in hand.  Hot dogs and baseball.  Peas and carrots.  Bert and Ernie.  Bo and Luke.  Around these parts, the two delectables that go hand in hand are wine and cheese.  It’s just how I was raised. 

wine country pt reyes blue

 

I showed up a few minutes late at this ‘advanced’ artisan cheese making class, and they were doing that ‘icebreaker’ thing where they ask everyone to introduce themselves.  Quickly, it became evident I was out of my league. 

To my left was a distinguished Frenchman who’d been making cheese for a decade.  To my right, a Dairy Queen who knew everything there was to know about butter, eggs, and dairy products.  Then it was my turn to talk.  I was the self proclaimed rookie in the room.  All I could muster after a long awkward pause was this:  “Well.  I’ve never met a piece of cheese I didn’t like!”  They laughed.  I don’t think it was at my joke.  It was at my ignorance. 

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