style council

Letting the Days Go By

And you may find yourself in a Motel 6 in Van Nuys,
And you may find yourself eating a Tommy burger at 2 am
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a financed Jeep
And you may find yourself with all your belongings in a Venice alley

And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?

How DID I get here? It's a long and boring story. But my lease was up at the end of June and my landlord wanted me out. O-U-T. At least that's what I interpreted the 3-day eviction notice to mean. I needed to find a new place, and despite a borrowed Westside Rentals password and constant Craigslisting, I found no place that would take me and my dog... at least none I could afford.

Most nights during the two weeks I curled up fetal on my bed, my dog on the floor  looking up at me like a kid who hears the knocking of Child Protection Services. Yes, Stevie, I failed to take care of you. I'm 32. Imagine I DID have a child, a real one, not one who slept on the floor at the foot of my bed scratching and licking her privates. But a live  human baby. Lina is having one. A beautiful baby GIRL. But me, I can't even keep a home for me and my domesticated pet, who requires only the occasional praise and a daily bowl of lamb and rice nuggets and water. I feel like a failure. Finally a few days before the reckoning, I start to pack after long work days. How did I accumulate so much shit? I kept old bills, receipts, and the business cards of people I don't remember meeting.  I kept ill fitting clothes and furniture I barely used. The day before Armageddon I packed at a furious pace. I dragged the furniture into the alley. I dragged my old red bike, the new IKEA closets I built, and my cherished desk to their new fate, either a beggar's treasure or the garbage man's burden.

When all was said and done I had a storage unit in Culver City, a Jeep full of "going out" clothes, an air mattress, and a dog I couldn't house. I called my friend, a friend I thought we could stay with, but alas, a cat was involved, so the comfy garage I thought would be refuge was an illusion. I looked at Stevie and cried. "You can call the pound, they'll keep her and you'll have 5 days to get her," offered a friend. "that'll buy you 5 days."  Stevie back at the pound I found her. I couldn't do it, Plus, 5 days wouldn't help. Friend after friend, offered to let ME stay with them, but Stevie could not come— cats, and more cats. So I drive. I drive— to where I'm not sure. All I had was a dog and a financed Jeep. I'm down one dog, and a beautiful house and now what? There's a Motel 6 in Van Nuys that allows dogs, there's a Tommy's around the corner, I can eat. I'm starving. That's as far as I got...

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?

Too Trendy Tykes

In this Saturday’s LA Times, Booth Moore wrote about Baby Glam and how one picture of one t-shirt made a Denver boutique called Belly a shitload (no pun intended) of cash thanks to Li’l Ms. Shiloh Jolie-Pitt. Yup Brad and Angie’s babe wore the thing in People mag and now everybody wants it.

I gotta admit, the tee is actually pretty cute (it's got a skull and cross bones with spoons, pots and pans all over it) and I would put my child in it if only because my hubby’s a chef and it’s appropriate. But do I really care that some celebrity spawn wore it?

As I’ve written here before, I am expecting, and after an exciting 20 week ultrasound last week I found out what I’m having. Though I really had no preference, it looks like I’ll be having much more fun with fashion in about 20 more weeks.

Yup, it’s a girl!  (Pic below is not mine but it looks exactly the same).
Either way I think I’d want to dress my kid in somewhat stylish stuff ( I mean who wouldn’t?) but let’s face it, as is true in adulthood, there are just more options for females.

Dresses, pants, skirts, onesies in shades of pink, lavender and even red. Hey, I myself happen to be fond of “girlie” dressing (see my recent fashion piece on the concept here) so why not have some fun with my kid?

Still, some of the celeb baby fashion frenzy has gotten way out of hand. Like the diamond encrusted pacifer Shiloh got from some jewelry company. Ridiculous.

Moore’s story quoted Fraser Ross, owner of Kitson Kids as saying “I think that children are becoming the new designer handbags.”  Huh? Okay, there may be a baby boom in Hollywood right now, but equating the fruit of your loins, the love of your life, to a pricey purse or a status symbol? Gross.

One celeb mama I do admire though and might be influenced by a bit, is Gwen Stefani, especially before she delivered. Even when she was huge, she always looked so put together and happy and relaxed, red lipstick and all. See the recent shots of her, her man Gavin and their son here. She looks great. Bigger than usual, but great.

People have been telling me I have the glow lately, which is nice, but unfortunately the glow doesn’t come without the ever-growing gut, and after I looked at a recent photo a pal took, I freaked. Talk about “My Hump(s). ”

I’m trying to maintain some style as I expand and I’m sure the same will be true when I’m a mom. But it’s not gonna be about labels or baby bling or designer diaper bags (not that I’d mind the later if it was given to me as a present). It’s gonna be about what my daughter can be both cute and comfy in, and if that happens to be nothing more than a diaper and a plain white tee, then that is what it’s gonna be baby!