Boots McBlog

Ah,  Labor Day – the day on every southern belle’s calendar she dutifully packs up her white pants, dresses, skirts, and shoes and neatly packs them away until Easter.   Au revoir,  fresh clean airy looks.   While I sit here in this glorious  seventy something degree weather, I am beginning to feel the inkling of fall.   School is in session and football teams have won or lost their first games of the season.   I’m getting excited for new fashions.    With a nickname like Boots and a love of shoes,  you can bet your bottom dollar I’m all about some knee-high footwear that I will wait to wear until….OCTOBER 15TH!     Yes, you heard me.   Technically, sweet friends,  the moon says it is still summer.   Autumnal equinox  - the official start of Autumn does not occur until  September 23.     Until then,  there are a myriad of fun shoes –  suede sandals, pumps, and other kicks to sport.   (I’ll share some of my top picks later this week)

Although I won’t be wearing boots for another 5 weeks,  it hasn’t stopped me from taking a spin on the internets to plan my fall/ winter couture.   I was rather astounded when I came upon some quite …..let’s say unique boots.

Remember how sweet momma taught us, “If you can’t say something nice, say nothing at all.”    The following boots have left me …well, for momma’s sake,  speechless.    If nothing else,  these boots will definitely give you a good laugh.   I’ll do my best to say something nice…

 

First up,  The Edythe Boot in Alabaster.   It’s white.  It’s a boot.  After Labor Day.

The only time I can imagine wearing this boot is with my All White Ski Chalet outfit when I am in my super sleuth spy cave in Antarctica planning world domination.

Hmmmmm.   Very Int-er-esting.

 

This might be the perfect boot for those dead set on wearing boots right now.

Because, it is still technically summer and this is the South, rest assured we’ll be back to mid 90 temperatures by mid month.

This will give your toes a little air conditioning.

 

When the winter time comes,  The Onisutku -Tiger may be the perfect boot for running a race…in the snow.

Is that a sport?  Snow marathons?

If so, you’re in luck.  And they are patriotic… to boot.  ha!   Get it – to boot.

 

Everyone LOVES a mash-up when it comes to music.  What about movie mash-ups?

What would happen if  Saving Private Ryan and Pretty Woman were re-made together. That would be interesting for wardrobe.

Luckily we have these over the knee hiking boots.

Oh and they are a bargain at $1520.   It’s a good thing Edward has money.

 

Speaking of movies,  Didn’t you adore star wars?  Wasn’t Chewbacca the best?

Well,  guess what, you can look like him from your knee down.

Thanks, Prada.

 

 

More Space favorites. “Mork calling Orson, come in Orson.   Mork calling Orson.   Hey, Orson,  I want to thank you for these boots you sent Mindy.

We don’t have things like this on Earth.  Well, we didn’t until our little 70′s tv show inspired Marc Jacobs.”

 

Oh, and back to the mash-up madness  ( This seems to be adistrubring trend I’ve discovered).

If you ever need the perfect shoe to sail your Yellow submarine down Penny Lane.  Your are in luck.

I once saw a news story about this poor soul who has a virus that causes his body to grow bark like growths which make him look like a tree.

( I will spare you a picture for the weak-stomached.   Google “tree man” if you dare).

That is exactly what I thought about when I first saw these shoes.   I know momma said to say something nice.  Here goes.

At least these are only shoes that can easily be removed and not a bark skin virus.

 

 

As I said,  this mash-up trend is rampant.   I’ve saved the most offensive ones for last. I wish they were urban shoe myths. But they are real, my friends.

Oh look, it’s a Mary Jane and Fall’s hottest snakeskin trend as one.   (Say something nice.  Say Something nice…  ok here goes)

It’s Prada.

 

And lastly,  good ol Prada.   This season they really cover all the bases – Whether you want to look like Chewbaca,  a snake wearing a boot,

or maybe –  just maybe you want to look like  a white person wearing an ankle wrap shoe.

Oh and one more thing the least expensive boots pictured above are $198.  The Most Expensive $2500 – all are available via Neiman Marcus or Yoox.com just in case you want to verify this uniqueness exists.

Well, I know fall is in the air, but hunker down and wait until October 15 to bring out your favorite boots …or at least until the Autumanal Equinox.     And for heaven’s sake,  don’t you dare wear an ugly boot and don’t let your friends wear ugly boots.   There’s just no excuse.  You can’t even blame that on the moon.

 

Wishing you lots of love and Laughter this week,

Boots

xxoo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last weekend the East Coast was battening down the hatches in preparation for Hurricane Irene.   The busy streets of New York City were empty and its inhabitants “hunkered down” and took to the Twitters.   From the iPhone of the ever entertaining and observant InStyle Mag editor Ariel Foxman came this:  

I couldn’t agree with Mr. Foxman anymore.   I adore the word “hunker”.   I suppose since I grew up in the South, I have heard the word used in numerous non disaster situations.  My dad used it all the time. ( still does)

To tell me to be patient:  ”Now you’re just going to have to hunker down, hoss”   ( He often called me “hoss”.  I don’t think he meant to, but after two sons it’s hard to change. He calls my niece by my name now).

To describe the poor posture of a person:   “She came in all hunkered over  with her hair flat as a flitter and I said, ‘who is this crazy lady?’”

The most vivid memory of my dad’s word was in regard to our neighbor across the street.  He was a tall lean man -probably one of those guys his parents assured him would fill out when he grew older, but as he grew older he became more gaunt and string-beanish.  He was married and had two kids who I baby sat occasionally.   He was a nice guy from what I can remember. Every night, Stringbean would walk down the hill of his driveway and stoop beneath his mailbox and sit in squat position for hours. My dad would drive in from his office, walk in the door and  say,   “The kook is out there hunkering again”

I’ve now learned and think Stringbean was doing it for sport, possibly remembering his grand ol college days.    You see, “Hunkerin’” was actually a phenomenon that spread across Southern universities in the late 1950′s….and it was a fad that was started by some clever Sigma Chi’s at the University of Arkansas. ( Can I get a woo pig soooie?)

The grand ole Frat house had a chair shortage and these college boys took to imitating their Ozark forefathers during house meetings.  The college hunks made hunkering cool.  Soon everyone was  hunkering’

 

while studying…

in groups,

 

on dates,

while entertaining the crowds

 

 

 

on rooftops

 

The nuances of hunkering spawned sophisticates of the art form and a myriad of styles.

 

Life magazine even featured the craze in their November 1959 issue.    The magazine referred to it “sociable squatting”.   According to wikipedia one hunker-er was quoted as saying, ”

“A respite from a world of turmoil. The main purpose of hunkerin’ is to get down and hunker together. It’s a friendship thing: get your friends to hunker with you. The man you don’t know is the man you haven’t hunkered with.”

 

In fact,  hankerers urged  President Eisenhower and Kruschev to hunker at their summit sure this would bring world Peace.  That’s not a terrible idea.

 

Maybe those Hogs were on to something.   Perhaps all we need to do to resolve economic budget disputes, employment woes, and healthcare issues in congress is take all the seats out of the Capitol building.  Tell our congress to hunker down….maybe then we’d see some results.  And that’s all I got to say about that.

 

Well, sweet friends, I hope you have a fabulous long weekend ahead of you.   Now let’s hunker down, relax with friends and cheer on those HOGS or you favorite college team.

 

Happy Hunkerin’, Y’all!

“Tell us a ‘fun fact” about yourself”

Don’t you just hate it when you’re in a meeting, an interview, or  business mixer and this is the icebreaker they throw out at you?   Aaargh!  The pressure to be unique. witty. memorable.

A few years ago I was part of a leadership training class comprised of 50 of the city’s up and comers (read: highly competitive folks ). Our first session, we were assigned the seriously lame task of “fun fact” finding ( read: corporate speed dating) to discover the who’s who of ever impressive achievements, traits, or associations?

“Where’s the guy who climbed Kilimanjaro?”

“Anyone seen the chick with Mick Jagger as a Godfather?”

“Who ate the 72 oz porterhouse in one sitting in some random Texas town”

You get the drift.

Going into the event I had my usual four options for fun facts.

Option 1: I can hang a spoon from my nose
Option 2: I’ve never ( no never) had my ears pierced.
Option 3: I can correctly say tongue twisters at warp speed
Option 4: I write jingles

 

 

On this day, I chose to go with Number 4. Now, when I say I write jingles, I don’t mean that you’ll hear my diddys selling you dish detergent on the tele (not yet anyway). Mostly I write silly song spoofs or goofy poems….about my dog…which is a a fun little fact I forgot when I disclosed this publicly.   I never dreamed the follow up question from each curious leader would be, “Will you sing one for me?”   Oh, the horror.

Nobody really appreciated The Finley Dog version of top 40 hits as much as I did.  Nor did they want to endure my “I’m a Junior Leaguer” to SmashMouth’s Shrek hit “I’m a believer”.  To say I was slightly defeated and deflated by the end of that mixer is an understatement. Luckily, lying in bed, inspiration struck that night. By the next morning, I presented an Ode to Class 23, a rhyming treat of (nearly) all 50 fun facts of my classmates.   It was a hit.   I was redeemed!

I wrote a few more poems for the class and for the Junior League that year ( My apologies to Kenny Rogers turning “The Gambler” into a Junior League anthem.  It was just too easy. I couldn’t fold that one)

Then something terrible happened. Life got wonky. I lost my silly song mojo. A dark cloud hung over my giddiness. It was  indeed, the day the jingle died.

Now, I don’t know if it was my near death experience with Ninja Lenny Kravitz a couple of weeks ago, but suddenly I’m feeling zippier, giddier, more like…well, me. There’s a renewed tingle in my jingle maker.   (btw – I totally have dibs on selling that last line to viagra). I’ve gotten my silly back.

The thing about getting my silly back is, I’m never sure when inspiration will strike.  So last night, when the POTUS stood to share with us the great news of troops making their way back to U.S. soil, all I could really hear was the quirky way he pronounces the word “Tal-i-ban” much like Harry Bellafonte’s pronunciation of “Tallyman” in his great hit “Day-O!   / The Banana Boat Song”

That, darlings, is all it took for me to chase a lyrical rabbit for the rest of the night. A political Obama version of Day-O began looping through my head and by the end of the night it had morphed into a more personal version. Think Elle Wood meets Weird Al Yankovick meets Harry Bellafonte extravaganza. So, I hope you’ll oblige me for a little afternoon blog silliness.   And while we’re at it,   I’d love to hear your “fun fact” in the comments below.
Now everybody, sing along. (to the tune of the Banana Boat Song)

Day o
Day o
daylight come, me don’t wanna go run

I ate a cupcake. I cleaned my plate.
(Daylight come, me don’t wanna go run)

Shoes still fit, if I gain weight
(daylight come, me don’t wanna go run)

Come Mr. Shoe Man, Bring me some Manolos
(daylight come, me wanna shoe shop) (repeat x2)

Jimmy Choo, Miu Miu, Louboutin Pump
Daylight come and she wanna shoe shop (repeat x2)

Day
Me say Day-O
Daylight come and she wanna shoe shop

A beautiful wedge or a strappy sandal
(daylight come and she wanna shoe shop)

140mm, there’s no height she can’t handle
(Daylight come and she wanna shoe shop)

Prada, Fendi, Brian Atwood …pump
(daylight come and she wanna shoe shop)

Come Mr. Shoeman bring me Valentino’s

Daylight come and

me wanna

shoe shop

 

 

Cheer’s Y’all.   I hope you’ll make time to get your silly on today.

 

xoxo,

jobeth

 

Every southern girl worth her salt, can quote a line or two from “Steel Magnolias”.  In one particular heartfelt scene of the movie,  Shelby looks deep into her mother’s questioning eyes and says,  ”I’d rather have a thirty minutes of wonderful, than a lifetime of nothing special”.   Traditionally, on this blog  this is the point I’d dive into a life lesson.  I’d look for the spiritual meaning in it all.   Well, y’all, it’s summer.    I mean – it is full-on 100 degree summer already.   Seven days in a row of this heat, the sun is searing my brain.  When school lets out for summer, so does my brain.   I don’t want emotional insights.   I don’t want to think.    Shelby may have needed 30 minutes of wonderful,   I just wanted 90 minutes of nothing.

Last week,  I cashed in a spa gift certificate I had been holding onto for quite awhile.   This would be the perfect way  to spend ninety minutes thinking about ab-so-lute-ly nothing.

I don’t know about you,  but I’m not really good at thinking about “nothing”.   I’ve never managed to do it.   On this day,  I was determined.

GOAL:  For 90 minutes,  I will not think about anything!

SO there I was sitting in the waiting area of the spa, my mind kept whirling?    ”Is your goal measurable?  How will you know if you thought of nothing?   You better take mental notes…just in case”

My name is called.   I’m introduced to David.   Massage time…

In case you ever wonder,  here’s what “absolutely nothing” translates to:

 

“This masseuse …or is it masseur? … looks a lot like Lenny Kravitz.

How cool would it be if Lenny Kravitz moonlighted as a massage therapist?

You’ve got to LET LOVE RULE  (let ….love… ruuu –le)

Quit wasting thought time.  I’ve really got to start thinking about nothing…get thee to thy happy place.

Did I just think in Shakespeare?

Ok.  happy place.  happy place.  happy place.  deep breath.  happy place.

I’ve got it!   My dreamy pink cottage.  all white interiors.   a picket fence and a garden of peonies, roses and lavender.   Water view.    Sweet ice tea on the back porch at sunset.  deep breath.   deep breath.  I can hear the crickets…I can hear music

What is this music?   It reminds me of…The aurora borealis!    Note to self:  add to bucket list,  I want to see the aurora borealis.  I’ll need to download this weird music when I do.

You know, I’ve never met a child who dreams of becoming a new age musician…  or smooth jazz  musician for that matter.   Do they get all dreamy-eyed when they walk through Stein Mart or ride an elevator?

And what kind of music does a new age musician or smooth jazz artist listen to when their work stresses them out?

That might be funny to tweet.   Then again,  I’m a big dork.  I’ve been tweeting too much lately.

If Lenny Kravitz masseur was a ninja he could move his elbow a little to the left right now and kill me

It’s surprising how I’ve trusted my care in a state “undressed to the level of my comfort”  to a complete stranger for the next 90 minutes…or …. darn it, I bet we’re down to 45 minutes now.   I’ve flipped over.

I bet Al Gore wishes he had not trusted his masseuse.

Why are you thinking about Al Gore?   He’s gross.  Get back to your pink cottage.

If I went back to work, I could buy my pink cottage.   I really should get a job.

OWW!  Seriously,  Ninja Lenny,  one good crack and my neck is broken

Oh wait,  are you massaging my head now?   No,  really, are you stroking my hair?

it’s over?    Already?   Oh, Lenny, don’t you know, it ain’t o-ver til it’s oooo-ver.”

So much for thinking about nothing.   Now excuse me,   I suddenly realized I need to download some Lenny songs.

I heart my iPhone.  I do!  I’ve been accused of being addicted to it.    I heart it even more now that I’ve discovered insta.gram. Insta.gram is an app that allows iPhone users to snap pictures with their phone, do a little fun tweaking /editing and post for friends to see.   Long before I had my DSLR, my phone was my camera.    I whole -heartedly agree with famed photog Chase Jarvis – that the BEST camera is the one you have with you.    Photo inspiration can strike me anytime – whether fashion, colors, flowers,  sunsets, a texture, or  even an angle that makes my eyes twinkle.  As soon as  I see it,  I stop and take an iPhone pic.   Love must be in the air because I’ve gone through the last month of  my instagram shots,  I  found lots o’ hearts.   I thought today would be a perfect day to share.    It’s also a time to encourage  us,  to open our eyes.   Love IS all around ….if we just stop and look for it.