Clutch No 22 - Palmer And Sons Designs: Drool


Clutch No 22 - Palmer And Sons Designs

I used to have a separate blog called CalifmomFinds where I'd feature cool/unique/beautiful/quirky products I found while "widow" shopping online. Now that Pinterest exists, I'm retiring Finds and rolling those old posts into my main blog, so they won't be gone forever, and I might feature a few here as I am reminded of some of the beautiful things I found along the way. In the meantime, I was reminded of Palmer and Sons Designs when I archived this old post. As I popped over to update some links, I fell in love with this clutch they now offer and just had to share. Dangerous stuff, that window shopping. $235

Nailed It: My Recent Nail Art Attempts

It's been a while since I've posted a collection of nail art pics for your perusal and enjoyment/critique/inspiration. Here are a few of my recent attempts at "art." I am by no means a professional. I wing it. I learn as I go. I google for inspiration and search Pinterest like a crazed fiend.

I frequently end up taking off everything right after I finish because I either don't like it or have screwed something up to the point of irreparability. If you try this at home, be kind to yourself and keep all of that in mind. Have fun with it. It's just polish. You'll get better the more you do it. When I started I couldn't put on a plain coat of polish without getting it all over. Hell, sometimes I still can't.

Monkeying around with my nails. #monkey #banana #nails #nailart

Monkeys and bananas.

Roof nails. #nailart #nails

Green with blue glitter. As painted on the roof. As you do.

Labor Day #nails #red #blue

Red and aqua with glitter. Because Uhmeruhkuh! And Bling!

Needed a little sparkle. #nails

Red bling. Thanks to OPI and the Muppets.

My attempt at back-to-school nail art. #nails #nailart #pencil #paper

Notepads and pencils. School nails.

Decades of Dysfunctional Rock Solid Cherry Bombs #nails

Hollywood nails. Or Hollyweird. Your call. I just paint 'em.

Blame @expat_erin. I should be building kitchens, not painting my nails. #nails #ombre #glitter

End of summer mermaid blues.

Judged: Sisterhood Of The Traveling Louboutins

Walk in my shoes. Walk in the Louboutins I bought to celebrate my life. IMG_6911

I rarely wore heels with my husband. I never wore stilettos. Now, I want to have a presence in the world that says I survived, I will persevere, I will not be knocked down nor held down by what life has dealt me. @califmom and @thebloggess

And the women who try on my shoes, and there have been many, they get that same look in their eyes, that look of confidence, joy, something magical—from a pair of shoes. They stand taller, look prouder, can’t believe they’ve done it.

IMG_6917 IMG_6925 IMG_6924 IMG_6929

Shallow? Yes. Judge us? Go ahead. We’re used to being judged.

I get judged for everything. I get judged for the clothes I wear, what I feed my kids, when I feed them, what’s in my refrigerator at any given time, what my children wear, what hours I’m home or not home, my travel schedule, my friends, my iPhone usage, my internet habits, my sleep patterns, my garden, the content of the obituary I wrote, how I carried myself at the funeral, whether I cry enough, my financial habits, whether I write enough about how much I loved my husband, my parenting, my mental health, and on and on and on.

So, judge my shoes. They can take it. So can I. I obviously put up with far worse.

And if you see me wearing my Loubi’s, don’t be afraid to ask to try them on. I will always say yes. I want you to know what it feels like to stand tall.

If you have a picture of yourself in my shoes, add it to the flickr group I created for the Sisterhood of the Traveling Louboutins:

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Get Your Shoe Porn Here: The Shoes of BlogHer '10

Mama's First Louboutin's

For the past two years, I’ve managed the Flickr groups for BlogHer Shoe Porn because, OMG SHOES! This year will be no different. The women (and men) who attend BlogHer wear some intriguing, hawt, sexay shoes, and we like to show them off and share them with y’all.

Be sure to add your shoes, your friends' shoes, you know, the shoes you see when you attend BlogHer ‘10 to the Flickr pool. I don't care if they're flip flops, running shoes from the BlogHer 5K/Tutus for Tanner participants, the stilettos at the parties, or everything in between. We want to see it all. Even your Crocs.

Bring on the SHOES!

To check out more, you can see the Flickr badge in my sidebar under Flair.

Lest you think this is all BlogHer is about, pry your head out. It's not. But, walking up to someone and asking if you can take a picture of her shoes is an excellent way to start a conversation. So, unstuff your head and get ready to have some fun!

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Oscar the Grouch?

The image of the Academy Award Oscar presented...

Image via Wikipedia

Tonight’s the big night, right? Oscar parties abound. Twitter is all abuzz with Oscar news. Were the winners leaked?

So. Much. Buzz.

Of the many films nominated in the myriad categories, I have seen….1. Yep, one. And, it wasn’t even a film I loved.


So, now I’ll watch some live-streaming Academy Awards and keep adding movies to my Netflix queue. I should be all caught up in time to be behind for next-year’s Oscars.

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CalifmomFinds: Wool Cloche from liza rietz of Portland

I big-fat-red heart this bell-shaped hat for its 1920s styling, feminine ripples, and practicality. Oh, yeah. I said it. It’s a practical accessory. Keeps your head warm. Plus, it makes you look like SOMEBODY. This is not your man’s skull cap, ladies. Grey not your color? Fear not, there are other colors. I know! Slap me and call me Sally. Other. Colors.

Also, the lightweight wool is blended to buttery softness. Not that itchy stuff. Available in three sizes, or custom-sized if your head’s outside the normal range. You know, because you’re extra smart, and stuff. Or perhaps, you are a pinhead, such as myself.




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CalifmomFinds: Vintage Spearmint Clip Earrings

I love to use vintage clip earrings in unexpected ways.

Clip them through buttonholes on jacket or shirt cuffs for a little bling.

Slip one onto a heavy silver necklace for a one-of-a-kind pendant. (Okay, technically one-of-two if you have the pair of them, but you get my drift.)

Dress up a pair of plain ballet flats by clipping them on the toe.

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Finds: Mint-Chocolate Chip Flower Pin and Other Goodies

I’m trying out a new feature on my blog. You’ll have to let me know what you think.

In the sidebar of CalifmomReviews I feature my online finds. These range from fashion to tech gadgets. I may be the only one who thinks they’re cool, but maybe not.

Therefore, I’ve decided to share a few of them here. I’ll be posting a few in this post, but will probably just post a few each week, as I stumble upon them.

I’d love to have your feedback.

I switched our family off of the plastic goods awhile ago, and we no longer have babies in the house, but this thinkbaby set was just too cool to pass up. If you know someone expecting, or have little ones yourself, this would be a great feeding set.

These Alpaca Celestial Scarf sets are so fun. I love the shape of the hats. Not your average beanie. I mean, I’m all for looking like a pinhead in the name of warmth…but you know. The circles, so cool. Makes me think of squid tentacles. In a good way. I love me some sea creatures.

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Mama Needs A New Pair of Shoes


Specifically, I needed a new pair of rain boots. Mine bit the dust last winter. I discovered their need for replacement midway through hosing down the dog run. A wet, squishy sensation was my clue. Seems the toe had separated from the sole, and I was drenching my prescious tootsies in dog shit stew. Yum.

As I was perusing the internets, I came across these lovely wellies from Boden USA. I heart Boden for their fashion inspiration, but not so much for their prices. Some bargains are to be had if you watch for sales. But, these rain boots seemed reasonable from the get go. Boden also has pants and skirts in long lengths. Three cheers for new rain boots and no "floods."

(BTW, this is NOT a paid post. I don't do paid posts. If I'm schlepping something I got for free, I will totally fess up. I WISH Boden would give me free stuff. I do heart free. Plus, if they gave me free stuff, I would totally be telling you ALL ABOUT IT. With my own pictures.)

Zemanta Pixie
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BlogHer Shoes

I caved to what appears to be some mounting peer pressure to wear Cute Shoes to BlogHer. Not that I need a lot of coaxing to go shoe shopping, I just love having an actual event to blame it on. Thanks, ladies. Yet one more reason why I love y'all.

My shopping netted 2 pair o' Cute Shoes, well 1 cute pair and 1 Cute Pair. Here's a pic of the Cute Pair:


Yes, Mom, I know they look like a pair of worn out ratty sneakers. That's the point. Think of how hard it would have been to achieve that look and still have the sneakers be white.

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I spent most of my formative years in a small town in Northern Nevada in the Carson Valley. My parents were born and raised in Los Angeles (yes, L.A. proper), and decided their children would not grow up in the same smoggy place. When I was 4 and my brother was 1, we moved hundreds of miles away from our extended families to Carson City, where we'd live until I turned 10. Then, feeling that even Carson City was becoming too urban for their tastes, my parents, on one of their infamous Sunday Drives, found our next home...a two-bedroom log house on a mini-oasis in the middle of nowhere. It sat on just over an acre of its own. But, that didn't really matter as it was the last house on a dirt road that didn't exist on any map, except maybe the one used by the BLM. We went from a tract home in suburbia to BFE. At 10, this was an adventure. At 13, the shine was off the apple.

By then, I was in middle school. Middle School. I wouldn't repeat that shit if you paid me, let me go back with All I Know Now, or gave me the tits I was so woefully lacking at the time. After racing to feed my horse, I trudged down the dirt road to the bus stop with my fellow ruralites a quarter mile each morning, shaking the alfalfa out of the cuffs of my Chemin de Fer cords, cracked the ice on my not-yet-dry permed hair, and jumped on the yellow school bus to ride the 15 miles to Carson Valley Middle School. CVMS was in downtown. My music teacher had a glass eye. My 6th grade teacher was a shell-shocked Vietnam vet given to throwing one of the difficult kids across the room.

After school, I'd change into my dance clothes (leotard, tights) and walk with my friend, Nikki, down the main drag (Hwy 395) to our dance class. At the time, I didn't understand why two middle school girls, clad in tights and leotards, garnered so many cat calls. I may have been an A-student, but I was still learning how pervy the world was about teenage girls.

The Carson Valley is anchored by two towns, Minden and Gardnerville. In the late 70s/early 80s, it was still a pretty small place. The high school was well under 1,000 students, we had no malls, 1 McDonald's, 1 casino, a lot of sheep and a lot of cattle, and most of the entertainment for the underage involved school sports (Go Tigers!), or Lake Tahoe.

Tahoe has two seasons, winter and summer. In the winter, we skied. In the summer, we pretended that the coarse sand lining the beaches wasn't grinding into our butts as we lathered ourselves in cooking oil, spread out our towels, and worked desperately to achieve sun stroke a tan at 8,000 feet.

The odd thing about our location in this rural teen hell paradise was that, because of Lake Tahoe's revolving door of tourists and the fact that most of us got cable or big-ass-satellite TV by 1980 (bringing the premier of MTV), we weren't as 'culturally deprived' as kids stuck out in the eastern part of the Silver places like Wabuska, Beowawe, or Battle Mountain.

In the early 80s, we were embracing the fashion trends of our hipster neighbors to the west. Why wouldn't we want to hike out to the corrals in our 3-inch heeled clogs, ride our horses to the country store in wrap-around shorts, or ski down The Face in the spring wearing layered Izods, collars up-turned? We didn't care that we lived where there were no sidewalks, even if we did score a strip of pavement every few miles. We embraced the California fashion trends with all the money we'd made off our 4-H lambs at May's livestock auction.

What did that mean to the purveyors of such fashion? It meant that some guy, who must have scored a killer high on his recent trip to Tahoe, evidently got lost in our valley and decided to open a Vans store. Directly. Across the street. From our school. Vans. Custom-made Vans. Across. The. Street. Do you understand what that meant? Holy shit. It was like the messiah had opened up shop and was asking, "Would you like slip-ons or lace-ups?"

This was the time of smiley face shoe laces, rainbows and lightning bolts. OP sweatshirts worn with Gunne Sax skirts and leg warmers. We are talking F-A-S-H-I-O-N. Skateboard decks by Tony Hawk with skulls were carried over sandy roads to that one patch of pavement where a weathered plywood half-pipe threatened to rip apart under the weight of the 90 lb. skaters who'd plowed their BMX bikes through the sandy roads, after racing through their after-school chores.

I will never forget my first (or second) pair of Vans. CVMS's mascot was a tiger cub. This meant our school colors were the flattering duo of orange and black. Our PE uniform consisted of double-knit orange polyester skin-tight shorts and a matching orange t-shirt. It was a stunning look that, I felt, could only be improved upon by my new shoes -- a pair of lace-up, black vamp and heel, orange quarter-ed Vans. I was hot. My shoes were hot. But, I had failed to recall some key information:

The only outfit I owned that coordinated with my new shoes was that road-work-orange PE uniform.

By Christmas, I think I managed to score a black pair of Chemin de Fer baggies that, when coupled with my Lightning Bolt three-quarter sleeved rainbow tee, helped the orange and black Vans look less like billboards and more like footwear. Still, they never got to realize their full potential. And, I'd learned my lesson. My second pair of Vans was a pair of white slip-ons, pierced across the tongue and 'round the opening with rivets for my rainbow shoelaces. I don't recall if I got rainbows, clouds or checkerboard on the foxing or if I just Bug them on with the ballpoint pen I kept in my Trapper Keeper.

I don't remember when the Vans store closed. I'm not sure anyone even noticed. We had moved on to Keds and K-swiss by then.
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