Ciblek Mania

When I was a kid I had the uncanny ability to slip out the door to school wearing the most bizarre things without my mother noticing.  I'll never forget the time I came home wearing a plethora of my favorite items only to have my mother screech/gasp in horror, "Carrie you did not wear that to school did you?!?" I couldn't understand the problem with combining a red velour fitted half zip, skinny black denim and fuschia socks.  Or how about a purple chenille v-neck sweater, turquoise corduroy trousers and red socks?  What's the big deal, mom?  

To this day red and purple is a color combo that always catches my eye.  Last month I hit the jackpot of all jackpots at the flea market when I discovered not only the Eight Dollar Pants (yes caps are necessary), but also the most beautiful vintage 70's Missoni-esque halter dress.  Try to envision me jumping up and down while various onlookers stare from a safe distance.  It shouldn't be too hard if you're a regular reader.  I'm just going to spill it:  I wish I could turn back time.  I want to wear old school vintage treasures that would make Farrah proud.  I no longer want to pay more than $15 for anything.  My name is Carrie and I am an addict...flea markets are my poison.

Prepare for picture onslaught 2011.

What can I tell you?  It's Sunday night as I type this and my wrist is feeling slightly better.  In fact it's already seizing up and I'm only on sentence number two.  So much for that idea.  Pardon me while I pull myself together for a quick weekend rundown:  slept for hours with windows open and a light breeze blowing, ate pint after pint of raspberries, threw a few more things in the closet purge pile, watched waaaaaaay too much Dateline and am contemplating joining the FBI, and on Friday night seated someone at a table at the Chef's restaurant when everyone else was busy with other customers (where's my tip? hehe). 

Things are going well for him--so far so good as the saying goes.  It's incredibly exciting to watch it all play out from the sidelines.  The crazy start-up hours have left me with a lot of time on my hands and even though there are plenty of things I could be doing *ahem cleaning* somehow I'm just taking a moment to do nothing much.  It feels nice to pause and regroup for the first time in over a year.  Last Sunday I woke up with hours of free time and instead of racing off on an errand rolled down to the flea market to take a gander.  More like a jackpot.  There were so many treasures to be found that day.  What was supposed to be a simple jaunt turned into a 3 hour marathon.  I left with bag filled with 70's vintage gems--amongst them these $8 pants.  Yes I said EIGHT DOLLAR PANTS.  My own little dream come true.

~Outfit details:  Hat-Hat Attack, Vest-H&M, Chambray Blouse-Gap, Belt-Anthropologie,

Pants-Vintage, Sunnies-Target, Bracelet-Brooklyn Thread~

Who ever let these go?  WHO?? I spotted them after pilfering through racks and racks of

crazy ol' 70's dresses and skirts.  Unable to believe my eyes I screamed out, 'HOW MUCH?!?'

while a young Hispanic guy laughed hysterically and said the word 'eight'.  

Unable to contain myself I screamed incredulously, 'EIGHT? EIGHT DOLLARS?,' 

as he nodded wildly.  He had a live one.

'SOLD!!!,' is the final thing I remember hollering while rooting for my wallet.

Somewhere in flea market land the word loco was used a lot that day.

They're the perfect pants for spotting shed snail shells in the dirt.  

Eye of the Tiger.  

For some reason I feel like saying, 'Ahoy Matey' every time I look at this picture.  

Land ahead?

Off to continue resting my wrist and staring at the eight dollar pants.  Let's see how long this can go on for.

There I was:  all dressed up and nowhere to go aka on my way to get more Ben & Jerry's Boston Cream Pie ice cream groceries when I found myself in the most random of random neighborhoods.  You know, the one 10 blocks from my house that I've never ventured into because I work from home and barely leave the house except on weekends? Anyway suddenly I could barely contain the 70's fever of it all.  Shaun Cassidy and K.C. and the Sunshine Band came out on blast through the speakers as I drove up and down the block super slow to see if anything, anything was for sale.  In my mind I packed my stuff, grabbed a disco ball and went back in time.  Long wavy hair, high-waisted wide leg denim for days, big ol' platform shoes, billowy maxi skirts, culottes with blouses tied at the waist, arms piled high with bangles, a patchwork suede handbag, dreams of the huge afro I'll never have -- and neighbors that are actually neighborly.

When I think summer in the 70's my mind floods with images of a home with a big cream colored stone fireplace and a rainbow VW bus parked in the driveway, block parties, kids on skateboards playing in the streets while sprinklers wave in the breeze, parents on front lawns drinking Pilsener from cans while charcoal bbq's send smoke plumes into the warm air.  Hot damn if I haven't found my ideal block and house.  I wonder if the neighbors are included in this transaction? A girl can dream...

Living close to the water has to be my favorite thing about living in Southern California.  As much as I miss home on the prairies in Canada, there is something glorious about being able to walk onto warm sand and have salty ocean breezes tousle up your hair.  Truth is I somehow always knew, even as a kid, that I would end up in SoCal.  I realize that sounds crazy, but it's true.  As a result I never really settled anywhere after I left home in my late teens - and even more bizarre is my flip flop pile consistently predominated all other shoe collections as my nomadic lifestyle carried out.  One of my best friends in Seattle told me from the time she met me she was always learning to slowly let me go.  Isn't that kind of sad, but poignant?

Speaking of sad it's Monday.  The past two days have officially been declared "Weekend of the Spontaneous Purchase" as a Saturday toothpaste run somehow resulted in 3 pairs of shoes - each the last or only pair in size 36 meaning it was a sign right?, a tunic that I'm pretty sure Carey is going to tell me is a caftan (I think I've crossed over to the dark side aka caftan-lover-in-training), $15 worth of dark chocolate at See's Candies, and a random pitstop at the beach.  To be fair I left the chocolate with the Chef at his restaurant and actually zeroed in on the tunic Friday night at, oh, 8:59pm after randomly spotting -and then immediately purchasing- the very last blush linen blazer at H&M after stalking location after location for three weeks.  Should have seen the signs coming...

So here's the thing about living along the coast - at least in Southern California - you can potentially sit in overcast/foggy weather for hours not realizing that 5 minutes up the street the sun is beaming bright as can be.  Similarly sometimes you leave the house and it's toasty and fabulous only to return to brisk winds and grey skies.  Enter Sunday afternoon...there I was fresh off my flea market finds, all was well in the world.  I swear it was hot outside when we left the house.  Not so much upon return.  Enter breeze, clouds, and even fog.  Thankfully I had my bag to light the way.  Is it summer yet?

This week has been filled to the brim with crazy.  Monday went by in a tax prepping blur as I showed the apartment to what seemed like an endless stream of neighbors I really hope I don't get - here's just a few:

• Teen Mom Candidate
• 20 lb dog lady who wants the beast to lounge on my Moroccan deck.   That's.Not.Happening.
• Guy who has never lived in the same state with girlfriend (does the landlord live here?), but is "sure" they'll get along fine (does the landlord live close by?) even though he really doesn't want her to quit her job (did you say the landlord lives upstairs?) and go back to school.  Do I have any advice on how he can talk her out of it?  Huh?  Oh and btw buddy, I AM the landlord.  No I didn't say that, but boy was I tempted.
• And today's person really took the cake.  Sppppokkkke soooooo slowwwwwly IIIII coooouuuulllld baaaarrreeeellly unnnderrrrstannnnnd hiiiiiim, got all up in my personal space, didn't want to see closet space, individual rooms or anything opting instead to corner me in the hallway to ask:  Do you live here alone?  How long have you lived here?  Does anyone live here with you (uh, already asked that ya cuckoo bird)?  By now I'm officially terrified and looking for something to hit him with when the kicker happens:  A huge moth flies out of his hair (I'm also terrified of moths for some strange reason) and flutters to land on the ceiling...followed by a mid-sized one that goes flying off into my office.  Okay Silence of the Lambs it's time for you to get out.  (At the door he turns and points to one of my pictures:  Isssss thaaaat youuuuu?  Me: Yes.  Him:  You look so much different.  Me:  GOOD-BYE as I shut the door in his face, locking it behind him.  HELP!)

Tuesday I was 25 minutes late to the tax appointment due to Southern California road construction in mid-afternoon.  Why me?  Thankfully Blanket came along to ease my nerves...he was a huge hit at the accountant's office.  Five women huddled around him upon arrival, and people kept walking in and out of the office we were in for four hours just to get a look at him.  It was quite heartwarming.

Somewhere in here I managed to throw on a semi-decent outfit and grab a few pictures.  Thankfully disheveled is in right now.

Guess what?  My landlord is on my last nerve.  He danced all over that mother on Saturday causing me to seriously consider if I even want to live at Chez Carrie anymore - a place that has been my home for almost 6 years.  Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, shred, shred, shred.  I'm trying to calm my nerves and clear my mind in order to make a decision, but it seems that's easier said than done.  It's been a long time since I even contemplated moving so I decided to take a peek at what's out there...just in case I opt to take a flying leap and carry on outta here.  Pardon me while I take a nap - this whole thing is exhausting.

On Sunday afternoon we zipped over to one of my favorite buildings in the neighborhood.  There is rarely a vacancy, but I hold out hope.  Whenever perusing rental possibilities I try to pull myself together and put my best foot forward.  Read:  competition can be a real biznatch and you only get one chance to make a good first impression aka seize that property.  I went for the gusto mixing prints and textures galore - sadly there were no vacancies, but a really nice lady invited me onto the property to take a look around.  I think she was in love with my dress - no jokes.  Maybe we can do a trade?  Nah.

This weekend was filled with wind, rain, wind and more rain mixed with the occasional pounding of hail.  It's hard to believe that only one week ago I was in Palm Springs (yes I'm still harping on that) enjoying 86 degrees well into the evening.  In order to avoid slipping into a major depression due to gloomy weather, broken heater, and derelict landlord I basked in the glow of photos from last weekend when I wore a maxi skirt I recently picked up at Anthropologie.

As a self-professed lover of denim it pains me to admit I don't believe I've donned it in combination for at least 5 years.  While some of you are wildly cheering, all I can think of is outfits lost to days gone by.  Somewhere along the way the mere expression began to conjure images of Hee-Haw and cowboys and, well, not much that's attractive.  Epic fail for the denim aficionado.

While out on Saturday I spotted the prettiest chambray, ruffled sleeve blouse ever.  Quite naturally I immediately envisioned the top with my new favorite pintucked wide leg denim (last seen here) - those things have been getting mad play around here lately.  That being said, there was still a moment of hesitation...denim on denim?  Wth am I thinking?  I'll tell you what I'm thinking - brilliance, that's what!  Apparently this pairing is a bird call of sorts as well because when I threw on the outfit for a Sunday drive in a not-yet-explored neighborhood suffice it to say flocks of peacocks came out of nowhere.  And no I am not high!  Examine it for yourselves.


Okay so how are you feeling about the denim on denim?  I was thinking this could be an upcoming challenge...what do you think?  As far as the blouse - it was discovered at Gap and correct me if I'm wrong, but they seem to have gotten some of their old mojo back.  I noticed this long sleeve version online and am picking it up to wear with a pair of cream colored wide leg flowy pants, a strappy sandal and an up-do.  Oh spring - are you out there?  

Before I go, can you imagine these peacocks?  It was like a day at the zoo without the boundaries of the zoo walls, and only cool until we went to drive away and there were about 25 of them roosting in one yard.  A little too Alfred Hitchcocky for this girl thank you very much.  All things in moderation.  Speaking of which we did get more pictures, but I'll upload them to facebook later today when I get the page up.  Caving in to yet more social media.

Last week I was waxing on over twitter regarding my search for the perfect pair of high-waisted jeans to add to the closet for summer's upcoming return-to-70's style extravaganza.  Coming in for the rescue was Nikki pronouncing her love for Gap's new trouser jeans...and mentioning the high-waist alternative.  Cut to Thursday and there I was, mid-afternoon, dancing with glee in the fitting room of my neighborhood Gap store - adorned in their Pintucked Wide Leg Trouser Jeans.  Truth be told two of the employees were jumping up and down with me.  One had been a little skeptical, but I came prepared with my arsenal of shoes aka platform clogs - and once I strolled out with those pants skimming the floor it was game over for all three of us.

Were you fans of Three's Company?  Remember Janet and Chrissy wearing those ridic-fantastic high-waisted denim trousers??  Well all I have to say is 'Come and Knock On Our Door' (the theme song - for all you young people) because there's been a rebirth.  Up next - conquering Mrs. Roper's vibe...it's gonna be one amazing 70's-chic summer, ladies!