Exploring the Galaxy for Trouble!

I watched Return of the Jedi for the first time in forever yesterday, and was inspired to wear my Calvin and Hobbes wagon/Han and Chewie Millennium Falcon shirt.

Celebrating two of the greatest partnerships in fiction!

I Love Nail Stickers.

I am, as a rule, lazy as crap.  If there is a shortcut, I'm going to take it.  Sometimes, the shortcut is even better than the long way around.

I suck at painting nails, and I'm way too cheap to get a weekly . . . or monthly . . . manicure, so when nail stickers came out, I was all in.  Sally Hansen was the first brand to popularize the printed, peel off/stick on nail polishes, and though they were kind of expensive ($8 and up, depending on the brand),  they can last a couple of weeks if applied and maintained properly. Well worth it!

This is the first time I've used the Essie Sleek Stick nail applique, and I love it!  They have a cool raised texture, and seem to be very well adhered to my fingernail.

Essie Sleek Stick pattern: "So Haute"
Ring: Claire's (yes I shop there)
Spiked Bracelet: Forever 21
Leaf/Chevron Bracelet: Vintage 

Scarily Awesome

A stack of stretchy mixed metal bracelets from the 1980s, bought in an auction lot . . . 

 . . . It's scary how awesome they are!

To Buy or Not to Buy?

There they were; there on the clearance rack, a pair of Converse sneakers.  Ultra low top and canvas in a dark grapey shade of purple. I picked them up, imagining (as I often do with possible purchases) what I could wear them with and when.  With sassy printed shorts on jaunts around the city?  Of course.  Slipping them on with a pair of red skinny jeans to hang out at the Bottletree?  Naturally. Heck, I would even dare to match the purple wonders with a black skirt and white dress shirt at work, a playful and marginally suitable exchange for my usual colorful flats.  With my classic sneaks, the sky was the limit.

But alas. I reviewed the other two shoeboxes tucked under my arm. One was a pair of black sandals I had chosen for a weekend wedding, and the other a comfy and pretty brown leather flat I could wear anywhere. My budget would not stretch to a third, less necessary pair. So, with a little sigh and final longing gaze, I replaced the sneakers on the shelf and made my more sensible purchases.

But the purple Converses haunted me like a fashionable ghost. Deciding on my daily pair of shoes that week, I would think back on them, imagining they would look perfect with whatever I was wearing, their absence felt in my closet. Lunch time at work found me pondering a trip up to the store, skipping lunch out for a few days to justify my purchase.

Finally, finally I couldn't take it anymore. The next week I used visiting a friend as an excuse to pop into the nearby store, just to see if the shoes were as wonderful as I remembered.  I headed back to the clearance rack, my purchase guaranteed.

I scoured the size sevens. Back and forth I paced.  Maybe I just wasn't seeing them, maybe someone put them back in the wrong place.

With growing despair, I knew the worst had happened.  Someone had snatched up my heart's desire, and there was no one to blame but me.

My head hung, I ventured out of the store, none the wiser. Just another sad case of non-buyer's remorse.