What a Heiffer will do for Weigh-In Day

effie

Today was my 1 week weigh-in day at Weight Watchers. I joined last week with a friend (her idea). I showed up for weigh in (she did not). In my planning of how to make the most of this day I wore the lightest clothes I could find. For good measure I put on a brand new pair of compression (torture drawers) panties that go clear up to my bra. I used the word compression lightly. What I really meant to say is that they were so hard to get on that I felt the fat surge up to my eyelids. I was so mad because those people (Walmart) must have mis-sized those jokers and put a small pair onto that hanger and sold them to me! Over them I wore some light weighed goucho-sorta-deal that forgot to land at my waist and spent the whole day north at the bra-line too. I prayed that I would make it through the day without dying because I know the paramedics would have a big time taking pictures of me for their Facebook pages with all of my clothes resting at my bra and them not being able to get it off of me without cutting them and having to do rock, paper, scissors to see would have the duty of cutting them and run the risk of a slingshot effect of my flubber.

Those panties are mean. Sinister. The whole reason why I bought them was to use as bathing suit bottoms under my new bathing suit top (tent). I decided that I would rather wear cowboy chaps to the beach (and nothing else) than to have to spend a day in the hot sun and sand with those unrelenting scratchy-ass britches! I did “save” them however, for when I am lighter. (That’s unless they get outlawed or the rapture comes before my “lighter” days happen)

You must be wondering about my weigh-in? I stepped right up there, took off my sweater, earrings, shoes, necklace, and rings. The weigh in lady looked at me like she didn’t trust that I wasn’t gonna get buck-ass-nekked. They didn’t kick me out. I get to come back next week and give them $13.

Topless Tuesday at the Thrift

toplessI am late for everything.  I have two teen sons, a full time job (I call it my “Big girl job”), the Vintage Warehouse space and have a full load at USF.  So what that means is that when I am somewhere…somewhere else is a sufferin’.  I have to work extra hard at everything to get it done and that includes scoring my good junk and antiques to paint.  And before you get your thong in a wad, I am not all about painting great-Aunt-Gerties prized Berkey and Gay buffet that has been in the family 3 generations.  I am about getting a half sanded buffet that Jolene is selling for her crack habit.  (I am kidding about the crack but it’s funny to say so I do).  I haul these half sanded junkerz in and they roll back out like they have had Botoxx and a full-on ass-lift.  So, I see it as a service to it.

At any rate…   I rolled up to one of my face honey holes (I can’t tell you where or I’ll have to take you out) and on the step were these tops…a bikini, a ragged out bra and a push up bra.  Panic came over me as I feared it was Topless Tuesday at the honey hole and here I was knocking these A and B cups straight out of the game.  A tingle rushed up as I knew that if this were a contest for a discont that I WAS GONNA WIN!.  I quickened my step, rushed the door to see every heiffer in there with a shirt on.  Dang… I had missed it again… me and my full schedule.

Fugly Fraternal Twins

I have a problem.  I like chairs.  Chairs are so interesting and have so much personality.  Old chairs are the best, they come from a time when the wood was real and the people who made them were craftspeople and artisans…not some dude who staples presswood to other presswood wearing earbuds and waitng for the time clock to tick.  These two particular chairs were hideous and putrid green.  They were ornry too.  I tried stripping them and they fought back, sending me for a triage and tetnus party before I asked the upholsterer to strip them so I could pick them up again and paint them.  They sat in my garage a long time.  I just knew that the work and expense to make them lovely wasn’t what I was feeling in the spring, summer, fall…..

One day I started the painting and got my revenge on the twins with distressing and waxing and fauxing years of character onto their wooden bones as if punishment were the only thing these two knew.  Happy with the result,  I labored over the fabric and decided that I wanted a clean palette of french linen and a European look.  I think, aside from our toil and bloodshed, they turned out to be quite serene and civilized!  These have taken yet another ride- to the Vintage Warehouse Lakeland and are ready for their new forever home where they promise to behave.

And I Didn’t Even Have to Set it on FIRE!

When something goes horribly wrong in my world there are three solutions: 1.  Set it on fire.                 2.)  Shave it all off             3.) Pretend nothing happened. Such was the case with the 1999 idea to become a redhead, the time … Continue reading

Mystery Disease

where good stuff lives..

Lots of cool stuff happening here at Shabby Chic Addiction!  Did I tell you I was asked for a radio interview about how I got started in the yummy decor and goodie business?  (Only a hundred times?!?!?) Well now, you must hear it for yourself!  You’ll find my interview segment starting at minute 20:10. Que it up so you won’t have to listen to people who have nothing to say about junk or shabby chicness or decorating. http://view.liveindexer.com/ViewIndexSessionSL.aspx?indexPointSKU=5L82bV9S4UfAZgwaEY0%2fmQ%3d%3d

That interview was fun and I learned something about myself un the process!  I had it in my head that I have always been a junker, a shabby magnet, if you will.  The interviewer said she had watched me over just the last year after I proclaimed to her that I was going to change my house to a romantic shabby chic look.  And it all started with my headboard!

Speaking of headboards…  look at the picture of one of our vignettes at the warehouse!  This is just a tiny corner of the joint!  I can’t share any more than this pic because we haven’t finished sorting, staging or preparing for our sale.  Our plan is to make it a monthly junk purge set to the tune of  the Sanford & Son’s TV theme song.  April 20, 21 and 22 will be the first. But enough of this shameless self-promotion!

And on to a more serious topic:  The MYSTERY Disease. First, let me tell you what it’s not:

Not Snookie-Preggers  (the kind of pregnant when you ALREADY feel sorry for the baby)

Not the Sundrop Dance disease (where you dress and dance like you never wish to get laid again…ever.)  www.sundrop.com  see the “Drop it like it’s hot commercial”  Hot, yes…hot mess!

Not Middle Aged Zumba-itis (Where you are 40+ and insist on going to zumba classes with full-on head to toe zumba logo embellished clothing.  It’s sad..Don’t.

These are the true symptoms of the MYSTERY disease:

1.  You wake up with an idea to find old shutters and paint them in a haphazard manner to use them as a corner accent in your home.

2.  You drive 46 miles around your town on the hunt for abandoned shutters to paint.

3.  You are excited for garbage day in the historic district in hopes to get good junk before the city hauls it away.

4.  You learn to breathe through your mouth so you don’t notice the musty smells of old things.

5.  You start calling dust and rust “patina” and consider everything with it much more attractive and valuable.

6.  The bright lights of the discount mega stores begin to hurt your eyes and sensibilities. (I call it Junk Vampirism).

7.  You happily trade your only day available to sleep in late for an early rise to go “pick” at yard sales and flea markets.

8.  You consider used layers of lace and denim with cowgirl boots as appropriate garb to wear to the grocery, a flea market or even an evening out.

Ladies:  If you have identified with any of the 8 symptoms above you may be at risk for the mystery disease.  Unfortunately there is no cure.  Victims with a severe case can expect to experience frustrated husbands who are constantly asked to move furniture, fix old junk and endure mismatched pillowcases and frilly bed linens.   This disease may alienate you from friends who are creeped out by patina.  The good news about your disease is that you will be very happy with your treasures, you will make new girlfriends who love patina and you will crave the thrill and adventure of a dumpster full of vintage furniture and finds.

Oh, and it’s contagious, and I have it..so with computer viruses and such..Get Well Soon!  🙂

Hate the smell-love the look…

I  have a confession about my addiction.. it morphs and shows up in many forms.  Sometimes I get on an enamel ware kick, or a chicken wire frenzy.  Other times I start twitching for burlap and linen.  One category of … Continue reading