As I was passing by Borders Bookstore’s alpha home base (store 1 is in Ann Arbor, man!) I stopped to look at who was up for a book signing this week.  Imagine my surprise when I saw that JEWEL was going to do a mini concert!

When I say Jewel, yes I do mean Jewel Kilcher of “bad” poetry book fame.  I’m not going to hate on her book like so many others did, however.

If you know me well, you’ll know that I get a kick out of things that I don’t normally like.  The best example of this that I can think of are perms.  You know, like for the hair?  I want a perm.  And it’s not because I think a perm is fashionable… it’s because I think getting a perm would be funny.

So I thought that going to see Jewel do her mini concert would be funny.  “Pieces of You”, Night in Shinging Armour…  that Jewel.  Funny.  The last time I saw her she was in a J-Lo phase awkwardly dancing to “Intuition”.  HOWEVER, I am not going to front…  I was a fan back when I was a sophomore in high school.  My brother bought her CD and I remember probably shedding a tear or two (shut up) when listening to “Don’t”.

I invited my friend Dustin to watch her because I figured he might think it was funny also, and I had this daydream that only thirty people would show up and I’d get to ask her questions during her Q & A about fashion and what she’d put on a mix tape and I’d get to write about my special session with her on here.

 Um…  so…  we got there, needed a wristband, and over 200 people showed up on Borders’ second floor.  Jewel got up to perform and she was pretty and charming and joked with the audience.  She talked about how she went to school at Interlochen (which is where my ex-boyfriend went) and brought a hunting knife to school with her fresh off of the Alaska boat.  Her words, not mine.  Then she talked about her year living out of her van which my ex said never happened because she went to Interlochen.  However, both stories  exsist side by side because she received a full scholarship to attend Interlochen to sing classical voice.  Later, she didn’t go to college and instead worked for a computer warehouse and was fired from her job for being late too many times.  That’s when she had to live out of her van.  She said she almost shoplifted a $34 dress, and then she realized that she had a choice whether or not she would steal that dress.  She said, “Wait a minute, what the hell makes me think that I can’t make $34?”  And that’s when she wrote “Hands”, which was also the first song she heard on the radio on September 13, 2001, after emerging from camping with her boyfriend and unaware of the events of September 11, 2001.

She also cried the first time she heard herself on the radio because the studio release of “Who Will Save Your Soul” makes her sound like Kermit the Frog.

Eventually she had to do her CD signing, and I didn’t have a CD, so I took my son to a vacated part of Borders to put him back in his stroller.  That’s when Jewel emerged from nowhere and walked past me — my summers as a high school student listening to her baby-ish voice slapped me in my face with a blonde swoosh.  I got shy and giddy and we smiled at each other and in that moment it wasn’t funny.

Yeah, so I’m happy I went to see Jewel sing at Borders.  Whut.

So, remember a few posts ago I was pining over my identity being a mother who loves fashon and the whole blogsphere involving mom blogs and where do I belong etc etc?  Well, I landed a job writing as a fashion expert.  Meaning, that’s where I will write about that.

 Here, I can write about being a mother who is going to a party for the first time in eight months without having her child in the next room or strapped to her bosom.  That’s right, folks, I helped plan a party at a I-wish-I-was-in-Brooklyn venue with a few fashionable and partially pretentious people (the exceptions being, of course, my friends — because who needs pretenses when we buck to keep it real).

 The big question is WTF do I wear?  I am no longer bound down to shirts that are condusive to breastfeeding and shoes that will not throw my balance off kilter when I throw my babe over my shoulder.  My entire wardrobe is up for the running!  I’m leaning towards a black bra, see through white tank top, a black lame miniskirt, and some bling around my neck that will blind people this way to Sunday.

The Sex and the City movie is almost here.  A few years ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing Candace Bushnell after her book signing at a local Borders.  At her reading, she strutted to the podium in her pink Prada pumps, and read an excerpt from Trading Up.  My boyfriend (at the time) and I glanced at each other with raised eyebrows because her voice sounded exactly like Sarah Jessica Parker’s.  During Q&A, I had to pull down my boyfriend’s arm to prevent him from saying, “Do you know your voice sounds exactly like Carrie’s?”

Candace answered many questions about writing.  I really found her advice to be helpful for people at square one  — often times at book signings an author’s advice seems vague and run-of-the-mill.  I felt she kept it pretty real.  She said something that may spark some protest, but I feel I agreed with her deep in my heart.  She said that if you want to be a writer, you have to really immerse yourself in writing.  If you want to be a doctor, go ahead and be a doctor, but you will be a doctor who writes, not a writer.  She said that you just have to write and write and write, and you’ll probably get rejected a bunch of times.  But when you get a chance, you have to take that chance and give it everything you’ve got.  She said that sometimes all you’ll have is two dollars to your name.  And that’s all you’ll have while you stand in line at a hot dog stand.

My interview with her involved questions about writing and fashion.  It was not the highlight of my career, but she was pretty awesome and newly married and I could not believe how amazing and happy she seemed at forty.  She told me she liked wearing cut up socks on her hands when she wrote and throwing on oversized LL Bean.  I remember being somewhat shocked that she didn’t put on some sort of Balenciaga frock while at her laptop.  I also remember feeling sort of embarrassed for asking her that question because of what I considered a boring response at the time.  What the hell did I know.

But as I sit here, writing this, with my son tucked in and in deep sleep, I don’t find her answer boring at all.  I can picture her lounging and comfortable and writing from the heart.

Photo courtesy of Lisa Nunez.

I don’t own many bracelets…  or any, for that matter.  I have been known to keep on the neon orange wristband from a show for a couple of days from the pure laziness of not wanting to tear it off, but no pieces have really made it into my jewelry collection.  Recently, I’ve been loosely fashioning the Bulova watch my brother got as a best man on my wrist to add some wit to my wardrobe, but I very well may turn to bracelets this season because the dainty bangles are in, and so are textured cuffs.

 The retro-respect that has been revived is awesome.  I’ve always been a hint of vintage in my taste, so the beautiful aquamarine cuffs with the dark wrinkles from my mother’s 60’s jewelry box has made its way back out again.  The wrist adornment is definitely underrated and can give a slender look to a wrist, or be the key accessory to those long empire waist dress you’ve been eyeing in the window.

Hip hop is not only music, it is a style.  A common misconception is that hip hop is all bling and the clothing is a bulletin board for designer labels.  Not so!  The roots of hip hop came from the streets of the Bronx, where cats were breakin’ in their kicks and fitted sweat suits.  You had emcees freestylin’ under slick caps, but you saw no Cristal on tap.  From those early looks branched out a plethora of stylin’ that put the hop in hip.

 Accessories are always key.  Big hoop earrings, Nikes in bright colors…  but then there’s the all-important handbag.  What kind of tote would a b-girl want to strap on her shoulder?

A big mistake many people make with this look is going too trendy.  Stay away from quilted materials, powder pink shades, large gold charms, or vinyl with a design that will be played out in a couple of months.  While you can catch a few glances in the moment jumping a bandwagon, it’s the truly stylish who will leave a lasting impression.  Here are a few suggestions for what the most down girl would go for:

1.)  Make it roomy.  B-girls have lots to tote because they are women on the go.  Something large with none or minimal pockets on the outside is essential.  Think totes, duffels, large shoulderbags, and weekenders.  Clutches are definitely cute, but they aren’t going to handle key accessories:  big Sony headphones and an extra pair of shoes.

2.)  Try the old school route.  Like Common said, “It’s kinda fresh you listen to more than hip-hop, and I can catch you in the mix from beauty to thrift shop.”  Vintage, vintage, vintage…  it’s a great way to save money and get the unique look.  A good suggestion is a vintage record tote for day wear.  Stick some wax in there (maybe some of your favorite break beats), a journal to write in (because hip hop heads are creative souls), and you’re ready to rock.  If you want something more dressy, think slouch and rouche as opposed to quilting — it’s a younger look.

3.)  Go for quality leather in an eye-catching color.  Black is to basic for the b-girl.  You have places to go, things to do.  Good leather will hold up with your lifestyle with the right care.  Instead of black, go for a plum purple, sea blue, chocolate brown, or a sweet cognac.  To really make a statement, go for red or white.  Avoid pink.

4.)  If you’re more fashion forward, support a fresh desginers.  Sure, you could go the Baby Phat or Louis Vuitton route, but it’ll be too cookie cutter for a woman on the edge of style.  Hip hop evolves just like you.  Try a local boutique or shop online and scout some new blood.

What’s awesome about hip hop is that it’s so versatile, yet distinct.  The woman who has it down manages to be funky rather than flashy, and more vivacious than classic — she’s definitely the one who gets stopped on the street because she has the confidence to pull off something edgy.

Photo courtesy shopbop.com.

I will admit I feel a bit haphazard in my identity as a mother.  Part of me feels like I’ve reverted back to high school and I have to figure out which cafeteria table of moms I have to sit with.  And that is ridiculous because it reflects an obvious insecurity and lack of maturity which I should have since I have a baby…

 is what people who are judgmental would say.

The thing is, I was really thrown into this.  I got pregnant while on birth control.  I had a 10oz grand marnier martini the day before I took my pregnancy test.  I was not walking the path to motherhood, in fact I was only dating J’s father for three months!  But now that I am a mother, I love being a mother, but I am also having a severe identity crisis because I feel like I don’t have a posse.  I don’t have my Samantha Jones to talk to about sex or Miranda Hobbes to talk to about having a son.  Most of my friends are five years younger than me and single, but I’m definitely the only parent.  My cell phone used to ring off the hook, but now I’ve been put aside like last season’s Louboutins.  You really recognize who your real friends are after you have a baby.

So here is the community of “mom bloggers”.  I am a mom, and I am blogging.  So does that make me a mom blogger?  Yes.  But after googling “mom blog” (which, by the way, has a really ugly aesthetic ring to it), I found a plethora of sites I wanted to join…  but I don’t quite… fit… in?  However, I am a mom!  So how does that make sense?

It brings up something that I’ve been thinking about ever since I was pregnant.  Society definitely smears this outfit onto women when they have children.  There’s the MILF fantasy, or mothers are pear shaped and non-sexual, we are also put under microscopes, having their every action judged as to whether it was a good decision in its effect towards baby.

I don’t want to pigeonhole myself as a mom blogger, although I think it’s important to point out that I am a mother.  I am a mother and I still like fashion as I always have.  I still love writing as I always have ever since I was in kindergarten and stapled my own newsprint books together.  I was even chosen to read my first one on Michigan NPR back in ‘86.  These things are just me and who I am.

When I write about fashion, I’m a woman who also happens to be a mother, writing about fashion.  Sometimes it will pertain specifically to mother-esque things:  like ditching a diaper bag for instance.  But sometimes I’ll write about a pair of shoes and you will not see the mention of the word “baby” in the article.  And that’s that.  It doesn’t mean I’m not a mother in that moment.

The fashion is hot this spring, especially when one of the trends is so hot it’s going to make you want to go on a safari, or at least dress the part!  Sexified versions of khakis, faux snakeskin shoes, tortise shell sunglasses — it’s all jungle, baby.  Think Michael Knight’s exit line from Project Runway, but all growed up.  For this look, don’t go out and buy all the cheetah and leopard print you can find, Catwoman.  Think subtlety when pulling this off.  Try a snakeskin wedge open toe, for instance.  For the night you want to let out the wild, try American Apparel’s zebra print leggings.  They are so silky and look fabulous with a slim fitting shirt and pointy black flats.  Honestly, I’m not usually a fan of the animalistic — though I do love my leather.  However a hot pink reptile-ish skinny belt made it into my closet.  It looks pretty hot cinching in my outfits.

Photo courtesy store.americanapparel.net.

One of my greatest claims to fame is this article I wrote about Pity Dating.  I would even go so far as to say it is an even greater claim to fame than placing in Seventeen Magazine’s Annual Fiction Writing contest two years in a row.  Why?  Because I still have people coming up to me and telling me how reading this article stopped them from going on a pity date, and probably stopped them from giving pity head!

Here it is, written two years ago: 

Perhaps my nickname should have been “The Bleeding Heart of Dating”.  It’s a little different than being a “bottom feeder”, as Ian likes to say.  Nostalgia has reared its ugly head recently, and my mind has been puking memories of my dating/relationship history.  Some of my worst experiences, hands down, involves “pity dating”.

What, exactly, is pity dating?  It’s if you go out with someone — not because you like them or are attracted to them — but because you’re too nice or scared to say no.

A sub-genre of the Pity Date is a date you don’t know you’re going on, probably because you are kidding yourself - you think you’re hanging out “as friends”.  (That is the most common one for me.)  They never asked you if you had a boyfriend, or didn’t call it a “date”.  It’s like getting tricked!  Another sub-genre of the Pity Date, is “Pity Head”.  I talked to two separate friends about pity dating, and that term came up both times.  I would just like to say this: DON’T pity date.  If you’re worried about hurting someone’s feelings or something, just think: Your bleeding heart could lead to you feeling obligated to put a dick you don’t want in your mouth, voluntarily.  Putnam told me about one of his close friends who went out on a pity date, and she kept going on pity dates with this guy, and eventually married him, and now she lives in the woods somewhere with her husband and she is not happy - you know she is giving pity head for the rest of her life!

I went out on a pity date once where he and his mom picked me up in his mom’s station wagon.  He took me to a party in a trailer park where there were about five people in the trailer, where we were drinking wine coolers, Kahlua, and Southern Comfort.  The cats were named Kinky and Porn Star.  The guy was telling me about his former heroin addiction and how he didn’t really like receiving blow jobs.  There were other people there who wound up driving me home because they were worried about me.  But then one guy who drove me home propositioned me for a threesome and told me he had a really big dick and he saw the way I was “looking at his girlfriend”.

The other guy got really pissed when I kicked his ass at pool. Then he told me, “You know, I’m really good at giving massages.”  I looked at him like he was crazy and said, “No, thanks!”  Then he got defensive and said, “I wasn’t offering you one!”  But later he was telling me how he was a virgin and he didn’t know if his dick was big enough to fuck girls.  “I wish I could just pull it out and show it to a girl so she can tell me.”  I didn’t respond.  Then he told me that he could make a girl cum just by touching her boob.  Then he told me he was a psychic healer and touched my arm that had a cyst in it and told me it would be healed.

Sometimes it’s not enough to say you’re busy.  Sometimes people really persist on that shit.  They will ask your schedule and what you are doing between the time you get out of work and the time you have to go out with your friends and it’s like WTF?  This creepy guy who left a Valentine in my mailbox at home used to do this all the time.

I don’t ask people out because I don’t want to be the Pity Date.  Pity Head, good god.  JUST SAY NO.

Spring marks the beginning of many things, and this includes a fresh season for handbags! With a new array of sizzling selections, you might experience some difficulty narrowing your selection. Here’s a look at the most fab trends this season and how to work them.

The oversized clutch is entering the scene full force adorning celebs like Mary Kate Olsen and Victoria Beckham. Big enough to fit Vogue magazine, this is fashion’s answer to the awkward briefcase.  Perfect for the woman who leaves work ready to play, it is roomy enough to fit important documents, and fabulous enough to sit next to you at the bar when you want to relax after the office. Marc by Marc Jacobs offers the Airline Leather Magazine Clutch. Choose classic black and it will be work appropriate but still rock the room you enter — be-it board room or cocktail lounge.

Not the type to be found at a power meeting?  Retro has become brand new again and the on-point arm accessory for the hip and relaxed. They are the hottest in bold blue. Thrift stores can be the perfect place to scour and to save money on this style.  Celebs like Paris Hilton and Tori Spelling have been seen carrying around train travel case inspired designs: find the perfect round tote and be vintage pin-up perfect!

For the poolside, a surprise pop-up among the arm accessories are the wovens. Lighthearted and laid-back, they’re the right touch for the outdoor lunch in style, or to accompany you and your bikini. This playful answer to a picnic basket will help you enjoy spring outdoors. Throw in your favorite scarf and sunglasses, and you’re ready for a cruise with the top down.

If daytime fashion is too early for your party lifestyle, this season’s muted metallics are the answer to your nighttime fun. They will amp up your scene and be-seen outtfit. From a small, sleek clutch to carry the bare essentials to a shoulder bag to carry that extra outfit in, the softer metallics will instantly add lots of style to a lazy day or an exclamation point on the arm of the socialite at night.

Whatever your trademark look or personality, this season’s diverse look will have a perfect partner to adorn your arm!

It shouldn’t be downplayed…  American society’s view of women after childbirth isn’t very attractive or alluring.