Category Archives: Fashion

Nicole’s Favourite Things – Summer Loving

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I love summer. I love heat, I love sunshine, I love seasonal berries and vegetables, I love not feeling like my hands and feet are those of a ninety-year-old woman’s. Despite – or perhaps because of – my propensity to schedule and organize everything to the minute throughout the school year, I love having lazy unscheduled days. I love writing ONE activity on my calendar: “afternoon swimming!” or “zoo?”. I love the fact that I’m still in my sweaty yoga clothes at 10:00 in the morning and the boys are in their pajamas some days until noon. Sure, around September I will somewhat willingly switch my sandals for boots and my tank tops for sweaters but for now? I’m soaking up every minute I can of this (strangely warm and glorious) summer.

It’s time for Nicole’s Favourite Things – the summer edition! Reminder: all products mentioned are not sponsored in any way. I am not in any way being compensated for this post – I just love these things and want to share!

Nicole’s Favourite Things – Summer Loving

Sun Protection

At least once a week I like to take the boys to the local outdoor pool. What’s not to love? It’s a big sunny area with some shade, grass, and picnic tables. Ice cream sandwiches cost $2 and it’s a great meeting place for friends. My kids are at the age where they can swim and I can hang out and watch them. I love soaking up that Vitamin D but I don’t want to look like a) an Oompa Loompa, b) a leather purse, or c) an apple doll. I also have known people who have died from melanoma and so I cannot emphasize the importance of sun protection.

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I’m going to get on my soapbox now and tell you that there is ONE way to safely apply sunscreen, and that is NOT at the pool when you have already been exposed to the sun. I am wagging my lecturing finger at you right now if you are someone who gets to the pool, hangs out for half an hour, notices skin pinking up, and THEN applies sunscreen. NO. DO NOT DO THAT. There is one way to do it and that is to apply it to your body after your shower: naked and in front of the mirror. I know! Who wants to stare at themselves naked and covered with sunscreen? No one, but it’s important. I am generally not a “spray” girl – I haven’t been a fan of aerosol sprays since 1988 when I realized that my Salon Selectives addiction and my penchant for vertical bangs were in part responsible for the destruction of the ozone layer – but I love these Neutrogena “Wet Skin” and “Beach Defense” sprays. I can spray my whole back and I don’t have to rely on anyone else to help me. This is how you get bikini ready – it has nothing to do with diet, in my opinion, and everything to do with getting sunscreen on your back by yourself. I only use the spray on my back; for the rest I love Hawaiian Tropic. It smells like vacation!  For my face I like Ultra-Sheer Water Light, which doesn’t make my face all shiny and oily. DON’T FORGET TO REAPPLY. Also, if you’re reapplying, and it’s windy, don’t use a spray. The spray will get carried away in the wind and it will be ineffective. This seems obvious but based on the number of people I’ve seen applying spray in the wind, it needs to be said.

For the first time ever I bought a sun hat. It’s gigantic and ridiculous and makes me feel like I’m wearing a sombrero, but it keeps the sun off my face – who wants wrinkles? – and off my shoulders, which are usually the first thing to burn. I bought it at La Vie En Rose, from their Aqua collection. They have some great sales on right now, including on their beach cover-ups, so check it out!

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Another benefit of wearing a giant hat? My processed hair doesn’t get over-dry and bleached by the sun.

My Garden

The problem with Calgary is that it’s largely colourless for so much of the year. When it is finally, finally gardening season I go all out. I have something blooming all the time in my garden.

 

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These annuals were called “Strawberry Shortcakes” at the garden centre. Am I made of stone? No. I had to have them.

 

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These Siberian irises were planted by the original owners of our home. I love watching them bloom every year. The blooms are almost done now, so I have to enjoy them while they last.

 

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I planted three new John Cabot roses this year, and this is one of the new ones. Blooming already!

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This is one of my old John Cabot roses. It was just budding when I took this photo a week ago; now it’s covered in blooms!

 

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Love my little garden Buddha.

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Barkley!

 

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Gratuitous Barkley shot.

 

Summer Style

I’m not going to go all Adam Glassman on you and tell you what I think of shorts. You probably already know. But, as someone once said to me when I went on a diatribe about shorts, It’s not about style. It’s about practicality. It’s true that in the winter I don’t wear an ankle length puffy coat with gigantic Sorel boots because it’s stylish; I wear such items so I don’t die when I walk the dog or pick up the kids. But people, let me speak up in favour of the running skirt.

A running skirt is an amazingly cute little number that has shorts underneath. It is genius. Cool, comfortable, and no fear of wardrobe malfunctions.

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I know, two colours AT THE SAME TIME. What is the world coming to? Barkley obviously is confused.

 

Skirts are great too; I bought a couple of super-comfy ones on sale at Old Navy for about ten dollars.

Essential Oils

My friend Julie told me about DoTerra essential oils, and while I wasn’t exactly skeptical – I love that crazy hippie stuff – I wasn’t over-the-moon excited either. I mean, I was happy to use lavender oil on my myriad mosquito bites and lemon oil to deodorize the bathroom, but it wasn’t totally life-changing. And then I tried the cleaning products. Dear reader, I am not exaggerating in the least when I say the DoTerra On Guard cleaner and oil have revolutionized my life. This is a discovery on par with green smoothies. It’s antiviral, antibacterial, and it is THE most powerful cleaner I’ve ever used, and that includes bleach-based products. I’m doing weird things like cleaning out my kitchen compost bin and the bathroom garbage can JUST so I can use this product, which smells like cinnamon and cloves. Now, you know I’m a vinegar-and-water kind of girl but to be honest, that always left my hardwood floors a bit streaky. I thought that was just the way it was with hardwood floors, and then I used a few drops of the On Guard oil in a spray bottle of water. My floors are amazing. All summer long the kids are leaving bare footprints on the floor and the dog is tracking in dirt with his “I walked through wet grass and then through the garden” paws. But this has CHANGED MY LIFE.

 

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The Terra Shield works great as a bug spray, for those of us who are constantly covered in gigantically swollen mosquito bites. Mosquitoes are the one downside to summer.

 

Cold Snacks and Drinks

A little self-promotion here: I have been making frozen treats for myself and the kids constantly this summer, and have been posting them over at Yummy Mummy Club. Click the photo to go to the recipe!

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Knock-off DIY Frappucino

 

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The kids love these fudgsicles!

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DIY Dole Whip

 

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Chocolate soft-serve – no ice cream maker required!

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Key Lime Pie – made with avocados!

 

Also, you all know I’m a red wine girl. But sometimes it’s actually too hot for red wine. I know! I hardly know who I am anymore either. But I’ve been making cosmopolitans like nobody’s business lately, and the recipe will be up at Yummy Mummy Club next week! Stay tuned! In the meantime…

Cosmos

Is it me, or when anyone says “Cosmo” do you think “Kramer”? If these pretzels are making you thirsty, maybe try a Cosmo to alleviate things.

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I had to do a LOT of testing to get JUST the right proportions. The sacrifices I make for this job!

And now, dear reader, I turn it over to you – what are your favourite things about summer? Are you a summer lover or can you not wait until September? Tell me everything. xo

Friday the 13th and the Full Moon. Luckily no PMS.

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Today was the school’s annual Stampede Breakfast; it’s a proud tradition, this end-of-school wrap-up, although technically there are two more weeks left of school and three weeks until the actual Stampede hits the city, when we can all feel free to embrace our inner cowboy spirit and don shirts emblazoned with wolves and sunsets. Nonetheless, the boys were insane with excitement about this very fun event, which was cancelled last year due to the flood. I was committed to help with the set up, so early this morning I went to say goodbye to my husband, who was working out downstairs. He took one look at me and burst into hysterical laughter.

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Despite living in Calgary for 37 years, this is the first “western” shirt I have ever purchased, complete with sparkly detailing on the back. Something about the shirt paired with the denim skirt, accessorized by my regular boots, set my husband into a gale of mirth. “You just don’t look very authentic,” he finally said. No shit, Sherlock. I’m not an actual cowgirl.

The past few weeks have been divine, weather-wise, lots of sunshine and warmth, with the exception of today, day of the Stampede Breakfast AND Sports Day, which was cold and raining. Maybe it’s a combination of Friday the 13th and a full moon? I don’t know. All I know is when I got home from the breakfast it was 9:45 and I kind of felt like just giving up and calling it a day. I managed to rally by eating tortilla chips and salsa for lunch and that influx of sodium was enough to power me through a couple of hours of work.

Earlier in the week I realized with a start that I STILL hadn’t bought any cards for Father’s Day, and that no matter what I did, my father-in-law’s card would be late. I went card shopping and was reminded of this post by Lynn. I would like to add to it, though. There is a serious need for “Happy Father’s Day Grandpa” cards from people who are not preschoolers or thoughtful, sensitive adults. There was no middle ground between “Happy Father’s Day To My Beloved Grandfather, Sending Love and Memories Across The Miles” and cards with cartoon animals and cheerful, faux-crayoned words. There were also a number of cards for “Pop”, “Pop-Pop” and even “Paw-Paw”. Yet, nothing that was appropriate for tween-aged children to send to their grandpa. There is a market here, people.

Speaking of markets for mailing things, today in the mail I had a letter addressed specifically to me from Canada Post. Important information inside! it proclaimed. Now, I had some issues with Canada Post this last winter, so it was with some nervous trepidation that I ripped open the letter. Were they going to tell me that my Mayday tree was too droopy when it rained and the mail carrier got hit in the face and I was no longer going to receive mail? Was I in some kind of trouble? Was my wet walk too slippery, with too many faded Mayday blossoms? No. It was simply an advertisement for Hold Mail Services in case I went on vacation. How much money went into this advertising campaign? It seems a bit like a make-work project to me, but on the other hand, I have used the Hold Mail Service in the past and it is pretty awesome. I’m torn.

I’m also torn between doing a nice, light yoga practice this afternoon and taking a nap, since I seem to be exhausted by the festivities. Maybe I can do both? And add a glass of wine onto that? It’s Friday and the sun is over the yardarm somewhere, right, Hannah?

Happy Friday everyone, and Happy Father’s Day to all you daddy-o’s out there. Don’t be a square!

Fashion Friday!

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Here’s the thing about being a food blogger: today, instead of eating my usual healthy lunch of nuts and a green smoothie, I ate guacamole and a vanilla cupcake and I now feel like I’m going to explode. All in the name of recipe testing. It just so happens that the cupcakes are blog-worthy, but that wasn’t my main reason for making them. For lo, we have a birthday today in the Boyhouse:

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What’s a birthday? says Barkley

 

Our fuzzy baby is six, so welcome to middle age, Barkley! In the spirit of mid-life crises, Barkley festively rolled in something at the dog park last week that made me a) hate him and b) thank god that I had a bottle of no-rinse dog shampoo in the cupboard.

So it’s all cupcakes and festivity around here – well, the birthday boy does not get to partake in the cupcake celebration, but he will have a nice dog chew to work on.

The boys had a very pleasant trip to the zoo, despite the rain, and despite the fact that Jake was in a group with a “bossy girl who he DOES NOT LIKE” who – evidently – made fun of the animals all day long. How or why one makes fun of animals, I do not know, but it raised Jake’s ire enough to discuss this ad nauseam.

While they were at the zoo, I was at the hair salon. A new girl mixed my colour while my usual hair therapist got organized, and I kind of think I have a different hair colour now. I’m not sure, though.

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Maybe an extreme makeover! I’m not sure.

It seems darker, but maybe it’s just “first day” colour. In any event, while I was at the salon I chose not to feel out of touch by reading People magazine, and instead settled in with a copy of In Style. Now, I consider myself to be fairly aware of the styles these days. I try to keep up, and to wear fashionable-yet-classic-and-age-appropriate wear. It turns out I have no interest in the new styles, if this is what’s in fashion:

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Say NO to the sporty cinch.

 

I had pants like this. They were pale pink and had a matching sweatshirt. It was called a sweatsuit and it was 1984 and WE DO NOT NEED TO BRING THAT BACK. It reminds me of gym class, and let me tell you this, I was not an A student in gym class. I got the “Participant!” sticker and/or ribbon for every single sports event on sports day, when my friends were getting actual ribbons and stickers that showed athletic prowess.  I am certainly not about to embrace this style, not just because of the emotional trauma it stirs up, but because it’s unflattering.

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I’d wear these as PJ’s, totally, but not as actual clothes.

 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with a tapered leg, although it makes me think of the 1988-90 when my mother would sew the calves of my jeans so that they would be tapered. Thanks, Mom! I mean, it’s not a great look, to be sure, because nothing says “Large thighs and bottom and teeny little calves” like a pair of super-tapered pants. But I’m specifically saying no to the above pair of pants. People, horizontally striped pants are really best left in the jammie department.

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Wide crop, tapered leg, MAKE UP YOUR MIND, FASHION PEOPLE. Actually I don’t mind the wide leg look so much, but I’m not a big fan of:

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When I was pregnant I had the kind of maternity pants that went under the belly, even though my mother was scandalized when I got too big for everything and had a strip of belly showing where my maternity tops ended and my elastic-waist pants began. I owned that look. I would rather have that than the feeling of elastic waist ending just below my bra line, and that is how I feel about these pants. It’s just too Steve Urkel or that Martin Short character to me.

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Need I offer further comment?

I weep for all humanity.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Here Comes The Sun Edition

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You aren’t going to believe this, but it has been sunny and warm this week – mid-twenties for temperature, with lots of sun and no wind. I know. I know. I don’t even know where I am anymore.

Wait, yes I do. I’ve already heard two complaints about the “heat” which makes me despair for humanity. People, low-to-mid-twenties is not “hot”, it is pleasant and beautiful and is eight months of winter not enough for you? Perhaps you should move to Inuvik or Tuktoyaktuk.

Anyway, I love this weather, and so I bring to you…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Here Comes The Sun

Gardening

Is there anything more wonderful than that spring rush of planting and gardening? I think not. My Mother’s Day gift finally arrived:

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Come to mama, giant bag of dirt.

A friend said, with regards to my giant bag of dirt, that I would “make it bloom” and indeed, I will, and that is one of the nicest comments I’ve heard in my life. It could be a metaphor! Look what else is happening in my garden right now:

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Osteopermums! Such a happy little flower. I plant them in the sunniest, warmest spot right by the back door where I can look at them all the time.

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My lilacs are just starting to bud…they’re babies!

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This is as close as we get, here in Calgary, to cherry blossoms. Nanking cherry blossoms! So pretty. The bees are buzzing all around them.

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Jake brought home a bean plant and he is fully expecting a gigantic harvest.

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Pansies are such cheerful flowers in the spring. I love that they don’t die at signs of frost.

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The Mayday tree is just starting to bloom and it smells glorious. If heaven has a smell, it’s a mix of Mayday blossoms and chocolate chip cookies.

Sandals

One of my favourite things about this time of year is breaking free of the socks and boots and putting on sandals. Yesterday was the Volunteer Tea at the school and this was my outfit:

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SANDALS

 

The other day I was working in the garden, wearing a green shirt. I went to pick the boys up from school and they couldn’t find me in the crowd, even though I was standing exactly where I stand every day to pick them up, and have for the past five years. “But you are wearing GREEN, Mom!” You can see I rectified this. Poor children. They literally do not recognize their own mother when she deviates from black.

Side note: the tea was great, and my kids sang a song called “Try And Change The World” and I cried, because I’m not made of stone.

Southern Magnolia

This is a departure from normal Nicole’s Favourite Things, but the people at Southern Magnolia sent me some product to try out. I was charmed by their name – I’ve always thought I would make a great Southern belle. My own maple leaf patriotism notwithstanding, I think I should have been born in the South. I love the heat, flowers, and people calling me ma’am. I may never be Miss Nicole to the local children, but I did really enjoy the product that they sent.

 

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Go to www.smmcosmetics.com

They sent me Dry Patch Healing Balm, which was very welcome indeed. All this gardening is hard on the hands, plus a couple of weeks ago I had a head cold. When one is the main food provider in the house and one has a head cold, one washes one’s hands a lot. My hands actually started cracking and bleeding, and the dry skin started catching and snagging my clothes.

 

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Before….

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After!

It worked really well and that’s saying something, given that Calgary is practically a desert. A cold desert.

They also sent their “One Perfect Lip Gloss” which purports to have “One Colour Fits All”. I was insanely excited to try it and also skeptical; you know how I am with claims of “one size fits all”. I was pleasantly surprised; it’s a great colour that looks very natural. Sometimes I embrace the natural look!

 

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 Southern Magnolia – check them out, it’s a nice company with cruelty-free, organic, natural products, which is very cool.

On that note, I must get outside and play in my garden while the sun shines. And since it’s Friday, I’m going to celebrate with some Skinnygirl Cosmopolitans because, yet again, I forgot to buy cranberry juice and Cointreau – but a day like today calls for a fruity girly drink! Have a beautiful weekend, lovelies!

 

NO WIRE HANGERS

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On Friday my husband and I had one of our weird arguments about whether or not French fries can be referred to as “chips”. My point was that we are not in England, Governor, and they are French fries. The kids tended to agree with me – they aren’t potato chips, DAD – but then my husband counterpointed with “fish and chips”. This led, sadly, to my rendition of the song Fish and Chips and Vinegar, Vinegar, Vinegar…until the kids stopped me by saying they had learned that song at school. Me too, I told them, excitedly. “Wow,” Mark said, “That really shows that throughout the ages music class has been lame.”

THROUGHOUT THE AGES. On a separate, but related note, I was telling my kids an anecdote about a broken phone. And in those days, phones had CORDS and they were attached to the WALL, so it was kind of a big deal. Liver spot are breaking out on my hands as we speak. The kids are always so enthralled with my “back in MY day” stories, television shows that could not be rewound or paused, ten hour road trips during which we kids silently stared out of the window wearing our tape-cassette Walkmans because there was nothing else to do, phones with cords that were plugged into the wall.

At my in-laws’ house there is a non-working rotary dial phone that is semi-fascinating to them. This is how people phoned each other in the olden days. They had to DIAL. There was no texting. My parents only recently got rid of their heavy, flesh-coloured, touch-tone phone, and the only reason they got rid of it was because my dad dropped it on the floor and it broke. I had good memories of that flesh-coloured phone. Remember taking the 15 foot cord in the other room to talk to your girlfriends for two hours? During a conversation about KIDS THESE DAYS AND THEIR TEXTING, a friend mentioned that we, as teens, were probably just as bad, but instead of texting we would tie up our phone lines for hours. I do remember getting “grounded from using the phone”, and instead resorting to writing my girlfriends six-page notes, because if we didn’t talk for two hours a night, we would miss important updates like “He’s cute but his hair is weird.” and “Do my new Benetton pants make me look fat?” and “Do you think Miss Herget makes her own clothes?” Also “Tom Hooper is so hot, I’m totally going to marry him one day.”

Ah, the fires of youth. I am feeling, lately, like I’m a rigid old lady, like I’m two steps from the Home and wearing slacks with floral blouses. For one thing, I am holding on a little too tightly to old-school style rules, especially the one about matching your shoes to your purse. My shoes will always match my purse, the end. I cannot fathom life without matching my shoes to my purse, even if I see other people with brightly coloured handbags and differently-coloured shoes and I think, hey, that looks great. Apparently I cannot incorporate such flamboyancy into my own lifestyle and I may as well go straight to pumps and a giant matching purse that will hold a change purse, a roll of mints, and a whole lot of Kleenex.

Less old-lady-like, but just as quirkily rigid, is my underwear rule: my bras and panties must match, every day, or the world will end. You know how your mother always told you to have nice panties on in case of an accident? Well, just this second it occurs to me what a weird thing that is to say. I’m pretty sure the ER doctors are not going to be upset if you have old faded panties that say “Hot Stuff” on them, or “Wednesday” panties on a Friday. Or are they? Maybe it’s a thing – if any ER doctors are reading this, I am going to pose the question: do you look askance at non-nice underwear?

Back to the original point, which was the matching. I have this thing where I have to match my bra and panties: if, in the middle of the day I change my shirt to a light coloured one that necessitates a light coloured bra, I will actually change my panties so that they match the bra. Even if the day is half over. Even if no one else is going to see those panties. Even if I am aware that I am completely crazy. I am like Joan Crawford, but with matching underwear instead of wire hangers. NO NUDE BRAS WITH BLACK PANTIES!!!!!

Other reasons it’s fun to live with me: I set out my clothing the night before and I do not deviate from that pre-arranged outfit, ever, I write down every daily job I have on a to-do list in an old-fashioned agenda, and if I do a job that wasn’t on the list I write it down just to check it off, and I have a strange need to write long, complicated packing lists even if I’m only packing for one night away and I always pack exactly the same things anyway (Shampoo! Toothpaste! Makeup bag!).

Well, we all have our little quirks, I suppose. Would you like to share yours? xo

A Shopping Crisis of Epic Proportions

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On Tuesday I got the following text from my husband:

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That text should probably tell you everything you need to know about a) my marriage and b) my husband, who immediately suggested I start shopping the liquidation sales before all my sizes are gone. He needn’t have said anything, by the time I read the text I was online shopping.

This is a shopping crisis of massive proportions. Fully ninety percent of my non-yoga clothes – and one hundred percent of my sweaters – are from Jacob . People, what am I going to do? I’ve had some suggestions of other places with similar clothing, but I just…can’t fathom life without Jacob. Their clothing was good quality, stylish, and age appropriate. I feel like I’m in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean with no oar and a Lieutenant Dan versus God-style storm brewing, but unlike Lieutenant Dan, I don’t think I have the strength to fight this battle.

You see, despite what you may think if you looked at my overflowing drawers and closet, I don’t actually like shopping that much, in that I don’t like browsing around for things. For years – YEARS, PEOPLE – my entire shopping strategy has been this: walk into mall, walk to Jacob, buy things. I always knew what size I needed, I knew what would be flattering, sometimes I didn’t even have to try things on. And now, I’m bereft. Am I going to have to go to different places and rifle through their racks, wondering what size I wear? Am I going to have to try things on, without the secure knowledge that I’m going to leave the store with nice clothes?

It’s just too depressing. Did I mention the key points: stylish, good quality, AGE APPROPRIATE? Have you been to the mall lately? I feel like my choices are now Forever 21 or Tan Jay. I may as well give up and go through the rest of my days wearing a pink velour tracksuit with words on the bum, like the mom in Mean Girls. Or maybe go straight to elastic waist “pull-on” slacks and pumps.

Speaking of giving up and falling apart, it occurred to me the other day that tending to the aging body to maintain a graceful level of beauty is not unlike being a farmer of a very delicate and fussy crop, like basil, maybe. One wrong move and it’s all shot. I was plucking my eyebrows/ upper lip/ chin, and thinking about how I needed to book a wax, and when was my next hair appointment, and I thought, what if I just stopped. What if I stopped all beauty rituals, what would happen? How long before I turn into Martin Scorcese/ Frida Kahlo/ Tom Selleck/ Bride of Frankenstein, with Yeti-like hippie legs and sandpaper hands. I’m guessing a week at best.

Well, I’m not ready to give up quite yet, despite such soul-crushing realizations. In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I will be in my room, rocking my collection of black sweaters and singing Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Either that or liquidation shopping.

It’s My Bag, Baby

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I love my neighbourhood. Today, within a 45 minute span, I did the following: dropped off the kids at school, went to the bank, went to the library where I got a new card to replace the one I’ve had for probably 30 years, bought dog food, put gas in the van, and picked up a bag of groceries. I have to wonder that if the grocery store was less convenient, would I be less laissez-faire about shopping? If I had to drive 20 minutes to get a package of bagels and some corn, would I be more thoughtful about my purchases? Probably. In any case, my quick stop at the grocery store was a bit longer than it would have been, due to a backlog of shoppers at the U-Scan checkout. It was all due to an elderly man with a full cart of groceries, who should have probably just saved himself and others around him much agitation by just going to the regular lineup. Om Shanti. I zipped my purchases through and left while still hearing the “Please wait for an attendant” automated voice over and over, and the man himself bitterly complaining that there WERE no stickers on the potatoes, so how could HE know what the code was? Word. Regular lineup, sir.

But, we must be patient, because one day we will be the elderly people holding up the U-Scan line. One day it will be me, and I will be fumbling in my giant purse that matches my pumps, with my slacks and plastic jewelry, wondering what the code is for KALE because it isn’t ON THERE and WHY is it beeping?

Last night when Jake was writing in his reading log, he exclaimed that it was the last day of April, and to him, April went by really quickly. “Life goes so fast!” he exclaimed, Ferris Bueller-style, and I agreed. Time makes you bolder, etc. At this rate I’m going to be shopping for a giant purse in no time at all.

Speaking of giant purses, my friend Melissa Gaston at Yummy Mummy Club is having a Photo a Day challenge for the month of May, and today’s prompt is “In Your Bag”. Challenge accepted, Melissa! Not only did I take photos of the contents of my (non-giant) purse, I am also going to walk you through it. What could be more fun than snooping in someone’s purse? What’s that you say? Spring cleaning is more fun? Nonsense!

In My Bag

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The whole shebang.

 

The truth is that in the past few years I’ve really whittled down what I carry around; I’m not just talking about when I would pack like a Sherpa for a day at the playground when the boys were little. I mean, up until a few years ago I would have everything from winter gloves – no matter what the season – to snacks and water bottles in my purse, and let’s not even talk about how I had a compulsion to carry around every single “club card” from every store I ever frequented in my wallet, like George Costanza. As you can see, I’ve got the usual things: slimmed down wallet – no more club cards, except for grocery stores – sunglasses, car keys that have “in case of emergency” hair ties twisted around them.

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I also have an inordinant amount of writing instruments.

I don’t know exactly why I have a pencil and four pens in my purse. Well, actually, I do. Every time I go to a School Council meeting, I grab my notebook and throw a pen into my bag, never to be removed. Also: two nail files because one is not enough and also I get them free with pedicure. The toothbrush holder in the background holds no toothbrush. It is the perfect little compartment for a tampon. In these days of uncertainty, you never know when you might need one!

Lipsticks

I’m a lip product addict.

Yes, I have nine different lipsticks and glosses in my purse at any given time, but who doesn’t, really? Also hand sanitizer and a dog poop bag. These two are related. I also found a rock that one of the kids gave me for safe keeping from our recent trip to Maui. I should probably do something with that. (Why is your bag so heavy? Rocks.)

makeup

Not only do I have every lip product for every occasion at any given time, but I also have a powder compact, puff, and blotting papers, because while I like having a shiny happy personality, I do not like having a shiny happy face. Well, the upside of shininess is the lack of wrinkles…oh wait. I have those too.

bandaids

Survival Kit

Last, but never least, the “purse sized” package of tissues and a bag of bandaids. We don’t go through a lot of Band Aids in our house; I guess we’re not bloody folk around here. However, I have a plethora of cute, impulse purchased character bandaids. My children are now at the age that they would probably bleed to death rather than use a Spiderman bandaid, but dammit, I still have a full box of them. The solution, as I see it, is to keep them in my bag for playground emergencies as I am the Official Playground Bandaid Mom. Some child is always wiping out and nothing calms a sobbingly hysterical child like a Phineas and Ferb or Angry Birds bandaid for the teensy scrape on their knee. Just yesterday I supplied a Transformers bandaid to a little girl who had burst a blister while playing on the monkey bars; I had sold it as a Scooby Doo one but she was satisfied with Bumblebee.

I should note that my friend Lyn gave me Hello Kitty bandaids a few years ago and I share them with NO ONE. I love them so much, I’m practically TRYING to slice my hand on the grater.

This concludes the tour of my bag. Want to play along? What’s in your bag?

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Speaking of bags, I have a bag of goodies for the winner of the giveaway, Nicole Sandblom. It was hard finding a bag that would fit the 4L of vinegar, but I did it. I kid! I kid! Congrats, Nicole, and thanks for playing, everyone!