I think I forgot to mention in my slurry of Jamaica posts that our bags were lost on the way home. And not just "Oh, it's on the next flight up here, we'll bring it to you shortly" lost. Like "HOLY FUCK WE HAVE NO RECORD OF YOUR BAGS EXISTING LIKE EVER" lost. Once we came through customs in Boston, we brought our bags to be checked right back in so we didn't have to tote them to our hotel and then they entered some kind of nega-universe, time warp thing. And I'm not going to bore you here with the drama of us calling US Airways 15 times or checking the internet site 47 million times or Matt's pure anguish in realizing that his FAVORITE Einstein shirt was in that bag ("THOSE MAGNIFICENT BASTARDS BETTER NOT LOSE MY SHIRT!"). What is really important to know is that my make-up was in that bag, and on Monday I had to go to work with no make up.
In my family, going to work with no make-up is akin to walking to work in your underwear whilst carrying a nice juicy rib-eye for the neighborhood dogs. YOU JUST DON'T DO IT. Which explains why, with all the drama that was going on, I was sending Facebook messages to my Mary Kay consultant, imploring her for samples. And, because she is amazingly awesome, she came through. The next morning, her mom showed up to my office with a bag piled full of samples and one perfectly wonderful Lindor truffle. And the world continued spinning and I didn't have to call in a bomb threat to US Airways. Not that I thought of doing that at all.
(Yes, we finally got our bags back.)
So, I have used all those samples, constructing a different look everyday. Today, I was feeling spry, so I stuck my hand down in the still-full bag, closed my eyes, and pulled out shadow in Azure, which at first glance, I was like, "That is the same color as the water in Jamaica! It should be called Caribbean Blue." And while it should, that's a pretty douchey thing to think, don't you think? THERE ARE STARVING BABIES IN THE WORLD AND WOMEN WHO NEED MAMMOGRAMS. Now I know the self-loathing Mitt Romney must feel on a day to day basis, and it almost makes me feel something for the man. Ok. No, it doesn't.
ANYWAY, I have it on today, and yeah, it is bright, and when I put it on for the first time, I was like "WOAH NELLY." But now, I have to say, I kinda love it. And I kinda want it to be mine. I feel like if anyone notices or asks today, I can just say I am paying homage to Superbowl Halftime Performer, Madonna. TOPICAL. (I want to add here that I took a picture of my eye with my cell phone, but I didn't share it because it looked creepy, like a picture you might see on the killer's wall in a bad Criminal Minds episode. Just say no to eye photos.)
And I guess the bright eye shadow has me feeling an 80's vibe, because today since I am starting a new Friday tradition that will soon rule ALL our lives (Fashion and Beauty Friday--HOLLA AT YOUR GIRL), I am talking about NEON. And not Fleming-Neon, which is a high school marching band in Kentucky that is near where I grew up and who wore uniforms the same color as our marching band uniforms, and really, where do they get off doing that, and seriously, this is what I think of every time I say or think of the word "neon." Rather, neon clothing and accessories, which are having a bit of a moment this spring. While there is a huge "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" feel to say, a neon yellow bag, I have to say, I kinda like the trend. Maybe because I am just more prone to color when this time of year comes around. ANY COLOR. And because it is 60 degrees outside in February, and so I've just decided that it is time for spring, no matter what the calendar tells me.
But, there is a big disconnect between "liking" a trend on racks or on others, and actually wearing it. I find myself gravitating, more and more, to blacks and grays and some purples. So would I really wear a neon pair of pants? Hmmm. Even more problematic is a neon purse, like the one I saw at Target the other day. How weird would that look with the things that are already in my wardrobe? Let's see: PRETTY WEIRD. And even if it didn't, even if it looked cute with a black dress, how comfortable would I be with how the look influenced my own personal style? Is that worth whatever money I put down on it? Maybe not.
But then I saw this sweater, and I thought that perhaps this could be the marijuana to the rest of the trend's collective crack:
I adore the brightness of this sweater, the sunny feel. Yellow is a hard color to wear, granted, but how good would it feel to have this in your closet on a gray day? And, the good thing about it, is that it is not full-on acid yellow. Believe me--I have a 12 year old daughter who has been rocking the neon trend for a couple of years now. I KNOW ACID YELLOW. This is a gateway drug. You could wear this with black pants or denim trousers and fun jewelry or you could colorblock it with a bright pencil (or even more fun--a skirt in a fun print), and belt it with a turquoise or orange skinny belt. You could put your feelers out for more bright colors and see what else feels good. Who knows? Before long, you could be picking up that neon messenger bag at Target and knowing full-well what you are going to pair with it.
I don't know if I would wear it with the blue eye shadow.
So, before closing, I have to share a Great Neon Moment from the late 80's/early 90's. When I was a kid, my Granddaddy Jack would often give my cousin Amanda and me each a dollar and let us walk to the store about half a mile from his house. He would follow us a few minutes later in his awesome Oldsmobile and buy us a box of cookies and cream ice cream. The store was made of metal and smelled like Pall Malls and feed, which is the only thing that it really sold. Amanda and I would get there and look through the dusty candy and soda bottles and pick out something really awesome to buy. Usually for me, it was Cry Baby Tears, the sour hard candy, which did really, really weird things to your saliva. (Note: If anyone knows where I can buy this candy now, I'd love you forever.) One day, we went down there, and low and behold, they had this pair of neon green shoe laces. They were 99 cents. SCORE. I picked them up and told Amanda I was forgoing the candy and getting the shoe laces instead. Fashion to the core, you see. She informed me that I couldn't, and that I'd need extra money for tax. I hated the US government so much in that moment that it is a wonder that I haven't joined a militia group. I kept them in my hand, though, and followed Amanda around the store, basically begging here for the extra four cents. My grandfather showed up about that time and saw what I wanted, and said he'd buy them for me, "because with those things on your feet, I'd always see you comin.' "
Moral of the story: 1) I am an awful cousin, 2) My grandfather was great, and 3) Neon brings families together.