From Cate, on Thursday, on hats: I sincerely hope they come back into style. Not that they haven't has stopped me, but mine are usually of the floppy anti-sun variety. Not many opportunities to wear a fascinator to work. I guess I'd have to take it off once I got inside anyway? Or maybe just the guys have to do that? Dunno. I could move to London and take up horse racing... Or Kentucky? For your viewing pleasure: Royal Ascot 2010 , or Kentucky Derby 2009, or the Aintree Grand National, which also posted Thursday.
Also, scarves: Also hasn't stopped me but always a distinct possibility I look like I'm about to dole out peanuts and point to the emergency exits. In Things to do in Denver When You're Dead, Andy Garcia says his dearest wish is the return of the ascot (we'll igore the ironic tone in which it was said). It's one of the best lines of the movie but is tragically not listed on IMDB. At the end (spoiler alert!), he's on a boat wearing a navy blazer, with ascot. Maybe I should take up sailing.
Second movie reference: In Thursday's post I wrote my daughter was P.I.S.S.E.D. There was something... floating around the edges of my head but I couldn't put my finger on it. And no, I only had ONE glass of Bordeaux, my Thursday over-indulgences were limited to jelly beans, not wine. It finally came to me: The Sweetest Thing. Which I don't think got great reviews but still makes me laugh hysterically, 9 years and about 57 viewings later.
Assistant: Well Mr. Mooney is downstairs and he is P-I-S-E-D.
From my brother, on living as a coastie in the Midwest: My neighbors wave at me as I drive down the street. And not just the neighbors familially obligated to wave, the ones I haven't even met. It's simultaneously sweet - and creepy. I completely identify with this article except the part about the clogs, because I love the fancy shoes. [In reading this - Derby Hats, Ascots, & Fancy Shoes - you might think I did not have sufficient dress up clothes as a child. You might be right. See also: hair accessories, below. Barbies were verboten in the house. Apparently the lack thereof left a lingering lust thereafter. Stick that into your parenting hat].
From Alison, on Jon Stewart and Toemaggedon: You might not have noticed, but my girl has a
I said fine, whatever it takes, but then he had to leave, so his sister could go to sleep. I gathered up what locks I could but his hair is pretty short so all I could gather were his bangs - less ponytail, more unicorn-like. We laugh, I revel in how open minded I am... and then he immediately starts pretending his forehead a gun and starts running around going Boom-Bam-SheeZow! [His only victim? Bedtime]
No, he doesn't have any toy guns - which is a whole different post. Point being, I could put him in a dress and heels, and he'd turn the heels into climbing pitons and the fabric into a parachute. I don't think a little pink nail polish... Nevermind, people are ridiculous. The End.