Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Which Witch is Which?

Halloween news of the weird: a man dressed in solid black, looking much like a jazz musician, wandered up to us mid downtown candy crawl and accosted Mr. I. "What are you?" he asked, leaning down into his face, all too close, and slipping something from his pocket into I's candy basket. "I never even heard of no power ranger!" he guffawed, and moseyed on, laughing at...nothing?
Well, just to be safe, I checked out the basket to make sure there wasn't anything off in there (like a wadded up kleenex or vitamin or even lint) and what did I discover? Three Ricola cranberry cough drops. Happy Halloween, little buddy.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Put a kork in it

Okay, not being an aficionado of bow culture, I recently stumbled across the name of the impossibly big and squiggly hair accessories found perched on little girls' heads throughout the country. Korker bows. Egad. Not only do they sound like a slang statement that one would make when smelling something best not smelled, as in: "That's a korker for sure, that one" with a wrinkle of the nose... or, heaven forbid, a slang term for something vaguely sexual, as in, "I'd kork 'er," they also are ridiculously unattractive. Case in point: you can view pictures of said korkers by simply typing in "korker bow" on a google search, or you can look here at the Sweet Baby Bowtique, purveyors of particularly gargantuan headgear. Be sure to check out their (ahem) "Funky" bows.

These behemoth bows are the rage in our area, according to the creepy woman who accosted me at the local secondhand shop. There I was, my daughter in arms, flipping through the rack of overpriced, worn out clothes and thinking, these people must be crazy, when this very blonde, very scary southern woman accosted me and proved me right. "Oh can I hug her?" she gushed and proceeded to do just that (do I need to remind you that I was holding Miss S. while this was going on? Eww! Personal space, lady!). Then she reared back, lifted her head to stare ( through her imaginary bifocals? her third eye?) at the petite, tasteful navy blue bow clipped in S's hair. "Oh." she said. "Oh." I wondered if there was something wrong. Then she launched into her spiel: "We have bows. Exclusive bows. They are only sold at two other boutiques in Charlotte,"(which makes them not exclusive but I didn't want to mince the finer points) she paused, licked her lips eagerly, and continued. "But we have them here and they are just the cutest things. My granddaughter... she's 18 months. Well her hair is straight as a stick and my daughter in law had her at church last night (BINGO: Southern Baptist or Pentecostal... at this point I got really antsy) and she had two of those bows clipped on her ponytails and the hair was sticking out like straw and it was just so cute... they're curly ones, they're corkscrew bows. Exclusive." Somewhere in between her rapid eye blinks I managed to escape the store with my daughter's apparently offensively uncurled and forlorn bow intact.

Some imagined backstory:

It's like two women were out walking with their kids in their impossibly expensive status strollers and someone said, "Hey Allison, you know what I think would be really cute? A bow bigger than her head. No really... TWO bows bigger than her head, combined into one hairdo. That would be awesome!!! Then her inane companion, head perched to one side, had her own a-ha moment (her last being sometime mid 1986, with the release of A-Ha's "Take On Me," but I digress). "Omigod Christy let's make them in multicolors to match every outfit! It will be just like being a cheerleader/sorority queen/elementary school teacher/etc. all over again! We can even give them cutsie names and match them to overpriced boutique clothing lines! Let's do it!" Thus, a cottage industry was born, with little girls soon bedecked in hair accessories with enough yardage to stuff a small occasional pillow.

Soft focus glow back to my present day rant:

Now, I put bows on my girl. Of course I do. It's the south, for chrissake. She even has a tiny psuedo korker bow that I bought at (gasp!) Gymboree on deep discount. But I do not (repeat)DO NOT put bows on her head that fight for their own zip code. She's a beautiful little girl with great, wild hair and I'm not going to dwarf it in some freakish Marie Antoinette scale hairbow made of grosgrain ribbon and rickrack.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


Okay, file this under things I wish someone would pay me to study:
KIDS NEED UNSTRUCTURED PLAYTIME. Well slap me and call me Sally but who in their right mind thinks over scheduled, over-flash carded, super programmed kids are the way to go? Swings and tree forts and dollhouses, man. A little fairy dust made in the sandbox goes a lot further than the organized playdate at Build-a-Bear Workshop.
According to the report, unstructured play helps children become creative, lets them discover their own passions, helps them develop problem-solving skills and teaches them how to relate to others.

(via the Charlotte Observer)

You can read further about this massively groundbreaking study (ahem)here.

Seriously, though, it is nice to have some statistical backing when it comes to the insane pressure to superparent your kids out of a childhood. Just the kind of ammunition you need, sadly enough, when you're going up against Baby Einstein wielding, preschool placement grubbing, test prepping parents...
And the best part of all? It's FREE.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Welcome October!

My favorite month begins... did I mention October is my favorite of all months? The weather, the trees, and of course... Halloween. Sigh.

Now... to finalize my costume... in the midst of researching costume ideas, I've discovered how to make gelatin elf ears (courtesy of LOTR Costume.) No kidding! This site is INDEPTH, people. They ain't kidding around. Yeah, I'm not too proud to admit that I'd like to dress up as Arwen. However, I am certainly not willing to go to this level of authenticity. I do however, like the suggestion that one should go about making gelatin elf ears whilst topless. Hee.

Right now I'm deciding between Glinda the Good Witch (all glitter and pinkness, my dear!) and perhaps my own version of Promethea... my requirement for any superhero is that I not need be clad in a catsuit or some impossibly tiny bottom... ugg.

Any suggestions? So far the only legitimate one was that I parade the downtown streets dressed as a giant white, fluffy bunny. Hmm. Still considering that one.