The Birds Of My Fancy

Can we talk about this dress for one second?

The lovely Sugarswirl

OMFG!

Umm, what did we do before Flickr? What did we do before this dress? I’m kind of mad at all of my dresses for not being as good as this one.  Would you just look at all those birds? Would you just look at how cute she is? She matches the painting on her wall.  OMG, Readers. OMG! The bar has been raised so high that I can’t even see it anymore. Seeing the bar now requires special eye devices with colorful little birds engraved on the sides. Can somebody make those for me?

Really, is there anything better than bird fashion?

No, nothing is better.

nothing.

What The Hipster Fancies

Four hours of sleep, seven paper cuts, six cups of coffee, one arthritis scare, five bus trips, nine ink cartridges, 36 hours, three thousand swear words, $212 and 650 Valentines later, I finally finished my first big Etsy order. All of my hard work came to a gross profit of $88. Basically, $2.44 cents an hour. I’m never doing a discounted bulk order ever again. Ever. I  made an exception with this one because  the girl was so nice and it was for a worthy cause. She’s selling Valentines on campus for Recycle Mania. More power to her. Keep fighting the good fight.  I hope she gets rich off them.

Kitchen Table. 11 pm

Caffeine is kicking in. 12:30 AM

Not even half way done. 1 AM

Smelling the envelopes. Getting surly. 1:20 AM

Eating candy. Wondering if my kitchen will ever be clean again. 2:38 AM.

Putting a sticker on envelope number 564. Totally delirious. 3 AM

For reals, I'll cut my finger another 15 times before I go to bed. 3:46 AM

Sooo not horny. 4 *OMFG* AM

What started out as a joke one lazy Saturday afternoon has turned into the most unprofitable business endeavor of all time.

"Hipster Valentine Cards! Get em' while they're hot! You'll get boned for just 10 bones!"

I’m not complaining, though. Seriously. I love every single person that bought them. I really do. I’m also amused by my Valentine demographic. While I had West Coast hipsters in mind when I made them, I seem to only sell them to East Coast kids at good schools.

I'm horny! Let's Do This, Valentine!

Ohhh, Chuck. Only if you wear that AMAZING sweater.

For reals. I'll Cut You, Valentine!

If you bought a package and are reading this, I hope the cards get you some mad Valentine’s Day tail.  By all means, tell me all about it and send some pictures.

Keep it clean, kids.

xoxo

Fancy Girl

Fanciful Things

Okay, I know I’m a little late for the “Let’s Talk About The Hat Aretha Franklin wore” party.  I’m really late. For all I know, the hat debate has closed and it’s already being worn by millions of trend setting high school girls right this second. God, I hope so.  More bows. Less pajama bottoms, please. Seriously, what’s with the high school pajama trend? One of the public schools let out while I was waiting for the bus and it looked like everyone was sleep walking.  I don’t get it. They’re young. Nothing is sagging yet. Why wear unflattering pajama bottoms? Maybe I’m watching too much Gossip Girl and my expectations are high. Still.  WTF, pajamas????? I Hate You!! Go To Bed!

Getting distracted. Where was I?

The bow hat. Of course.

I really love the hat.  So much. What’s not to love? She’s wrapped up her beautiful brain and put a bow on top. Done! It also reminded me of something Mary Poole would have worn in the 80’s.

Mary circa 1986

For those not in the know, Mary Poole was the long time sweet-heart and wife of Robert Smith.  Like most Cure fans, I was mildly fascinated with her when I was a teenager. There was no such thing as the Internet back in the day,  so it was really difficult to find pictures of her.  When I finally saw a picture of her, I remember thinking that she was really pretty and a little bit busty.

I also remembered the bows. Yesterday I googled her name. The Internet never seizes to amaze me.

LOVE this! Even Simon's girl is rocking a bow.

So many bows. In every picture, another bow.

Not meaning to get goth all over your computer – but all of this reminiscing over Mary Poole and her bows had me thinking about another thing I was mildly obsessed with as a teenager…

Winklepicker buckle boots! OMG!

It’s a little ridiculous how much I still love them. They’re impossible to find now. I don’t know if it’s because goths wore them to death or if every kid in Berlin bought them on Ebay. Who knows? All I do know is that I wish I had kept mine. I have many regrets.

At least I still have my bows.

But universe, PLEASE, give me just one garage sale in the suburbs where a mom is getting rid of her kid’s “weird 80’s stuff.” Just one.

Or a ticket to Berlin.

I’m not particular.

xoxo

Automne

Fancy Secrets

Hey Portland! Are you guys reading that AWESOME  new Sweet Valley High Book? It’s called “Secrets.” I totally wonder how it’s going to end. Isn’t Beau Breedlove, like, the dreamiest hunk there ever was? OMG! I can’t believe that bitch-face, Bob Ball had to open up his big mouth. Poor Sam. Nobody likes a tattle tale.

© http://getfancy.wordpress.com/

Product Description:
Look out Portland! Sam Adams, the handsome Commissioner of Public Utilities, is suddenly showing a lot of interest in hot intern, Beau Breedlove. Sam has never dated a guy like Beau before–serious, intense, and  super smart–and he’s definitely interested. When Sam finally asks Beau out on his 18th birthday, the sparks fly but Beau must keep their forbidden love a secret. Sam will be running for mayor soon and absolutely nothing is going to get in his way. That is, nothing except that bitchy, wealthy developer, Bob Ball.

When Bob blurts out the whole story to the Willamette Weekly, all of Sweet Valley High knows about Sam’s secret, and everyone has an opinion about who’s responsible. Will they ever forgive Sam again? “

Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought

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Pocket Guide to He's Just Not That into You: The No-excuses Truth to Understanding Guys (Charming Petite Series) (Hardcover)

——————————————————————————————————————–

Kidding aside, am I the only person that thinks this should just be a freebie for Mayor Adams? So what. He banged the intern and lied about it. And? Why is this newsworthy?  It was four years ago. Does your water taste different now? Did the bus stop running? Why are the sex lives of others any of our business? Would you want to give total strangers the details of your sex life? Everyone lies about their sex life. Your own mother is lying to you  about her sex life.  I didn’t care when Clinton banged his intern and lied about it. I’m certainly not batting an eye over this. Especially when the intern is named Beau Breedlove.

Beau.

Breedlove.

Are you kidding me? Dude. Just let him have this one. Seriously, Portland.

Seriously.

Fancy McFadden

Oh, Cynthia McFadden.

Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU. Just when I was growing weary eyed and cranky from the endlessly vapid news coverage of ball after ball after ball, you show up on my TV moniter like an ice skating princess.

You are a beautiful bullfighter that plays tuba in the high school band! You are a majestic, styrofoam angel on the top of my tree! You are the hostess of the Country Music Awards! You are a craft project from 1986.  You are a gift I will never unwrap. You  are the lampshade of my dreams.  You are my hero.

Cynthia McFadden’s dress forever!!!!!

Getting Fancy

Like  many Americans, I was recently laid off from a job I had been doing for years.  I was a hard worker and  really enjoyed my job.  I reviewed music submissions. Sometimes I did it stoned.

My lay-off happened just in time for the holidays.  Just in time for the pot to run out. Just in time for the cruelest of winters. Just in time for my electricity bill to sky rocket. Just in time for all of my friends’ birthdays to come. Just in time for my jeans to fray, my lipstick to run out, my moisturizer to stop working, my coat to rip, my health insurance to go up and my self confidence to go down. That was three months ago and things aren’t getting any better.  Where are the jobs? Where are the opportunities? When do I get a break? Do people even get breaks anymore? Don’t you kind of have to be a dick to make it in this world?

Gavin Dickhole McInnes

Seriously, why does Mr. McInnes have any money? I swear Vice magazine was written by a bunch of 5th graders with learning disabilities. I don’t get it. His new site is an even bigger yawn fest. Do hipsters really care about a wrinkled up Canadian with an Asian Fetish? I know there’s enough money in the world to go around, but seriously, this sexist idiot shouldn’t have a dime of it. He’s just so boring and predictable. “Boner this. Boner that. Voting is stupid. Asian girls are hot. Irony. Do’s. Don’ts. Vomit. Repeat.”

My god, raise your kid and quit worrying about girls wearing too much purple. You give me such an unbelievable headache. You’ve done more damage than the Suicide Girls have. That’s saying a lot.

Setting Women back 40 Years

Umm, why do the twits behind Suicide Girls have any money? This isn’t feminism. This is tattooed insecurities. Ladies, PLEASE put on some clothes. Quit pimping yourself out to men that don’t have your best interests in mind. I beg you. We’re above this.  We’re supposed to be the rebel chicks that oppose this woman-as-object kind of lifestyle. Write a book. Build something. Teach a girl how to play guitar. Take a computer class. Blog. Learn French. Plant a garden. Make a zine. Cure cancer. Start a band. Start a revolution. Anything but this. Taking off your clothes is such a cop out. You make me really sad. You’re a bad influence on my younger cousin. She needs better role models. Girls everywhere need better role models.

Enough about this. Enough about their money. I want to talk about my money.  Recently, the very lovely  Sasha encouraged me to start selling things on Etsy. Her and Amber have been doing well with the truly amazing Violet Folklore shop and it’s not like I have anything to lose.  I set up  shop last weekend and decided to sell Hipster Valentines. Even in a recession, people buy Valentines.

So far, I’ve sold 16 packages but I’m not making any money. Ink cartridges are ridiculously expensive and I’ve went through 3 already. To help pay for the absurd cost of ink, I’ve been trying to sell vintage clothes through my Etsy Shop. I know, right.  Me and every other girl out there. It’s overwhelming.

Nobody is buying anything and I’m starting to get discouraged. Am I not photogenic enough? Did I smoke too much weed when I wrote the descriptions?  Are the pictures too incoherent? Do people think I’m kidding?

Who do I think I’m kidding?

Fancy Firsts

Give me a moment to compose myself.  You guys, Bush is gone. Cheney has been wheeled away.

They can’t come back. EVER. AGAIN.

smell ya later

It was like watching the worst house guests of all time pull out of the driveway and leave your life forever.  True, they trashed your house, broke the toilet, ruined your record needle, stole your drugs, killed your dog and peed on your belongings… but at least they’re gone.  Finally.  Gone.  Breath, America.  We can finally breathe.

Umm, it’s going to take forever to clean up. Maybe we should just move.