Monday, February 28, 2011

Pink Turned InsideOut

Just get one.
Just get one fabulous pink dress to feel fabulous in.

Surprise yourself. Be extraordinary.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Pink Turned Out

In this season of black. In this season of elegant sameness. In this season of fashionable practicality. Perhaps not.

Instead, perhaps what every woman needs is a perfect Little-Pink-Dress.

Life is too short for predictable. Let's be extraordinary.

Oh Valentino, extraordinary.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Pink is Called to the Carpet to Account for the Past

Given all that Pink. There are some things I can neither forgive, nor forget.

1. Your long sordid, sappy affair with Barbie. I could have forgiven the boa as youthful extravagance. But the Corvette? That was just silly.

2. Your insistence on having a role in every product manufactured. Really? Pink bicycles? Pink hammers? Pink cameras? Pink plungers? Really. It's not all about you.

3. Some really, really bad and quite regrettable one-night-stands with satin and sequin. I can understand one perhaps, but both? The less said about this the better. Let's move on.

4. Your brief flirtation with hair dye. I think you owe us all an apology.

Ok. I just felt if we are going to build a new relationship based on mutual sophistication and a modern sensibility, better to honest about our past.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Best Thing About Winter

Getting to wear my low fashion fabulous fuzzy pink socks under my ultra chic, these-boots-weren't-made-for-walking black boots. Delectable fashion transgression.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Ode to Tourmaline

The name is hard, formal, scientific. Fierce.

Elemental minerals. Aluminum. Magnesium. Iron. Sodium. Potassium. A semi-precious integration. Color resulting from chemistry and crystallization.

Green at one end, pink at another. Or green on the surface, pink beneath. Sometimes, pure pink from eons of exposure and decay. Iron into pale stones creating pink.

You are a pink with power, with edge, with structure and form and strength.

Tourmaline, you are pink all grown up and ready to take on the world.
Take me with you. Together we are a force.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Where do you come from Pink?

Remember mixing paints as a kid. Swirling them with your fingers. Mushing hues and patinas into new fantasies, inspiring new envies.

Red + white = pink

Always fails to satisfy. It's empty. Limited. Lifeless.
It needs orange sometimes, or blue, or purple, or brown. Good pink is chaos.
Brick red oil paint. Vermillion. Drops at a time. Weighing saturation and hue

Quartz demands traces of titanium, iron, or manganese. Or even more rarely phosphate or aluminum. A six sided prism. A twinned tetrahedra.

And when those bits of impurity, those bits of iron, rearranged themselves in their crystal lattice. Amethyst.

Indeed you are a surprise. You come by way of accident, mixing, rearranging, creating. Perhaps that is why you make us smile.

Like life. Pink is process. An unexpected, unintended, yet somehow meant-to-be journey.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Thoughts on Valentines Day

Just a few thoughts:
  • Nothing with a handle.
  • Nothing with a handle, that plugs in.
  • Nothing with a handle, that plugs in, or has anything to do with insulation.
  • Nothing with a handle, that plugs in, has anythingto do with insulation, or can be purchased in the hardware aisle of any store.
  • Nothing with a handle, plugs in, has anything to do with insulation, available in the hardware aisle, or is intended to ameliorate a hypothetical future camping experience.

Let's review. No handle, plugging in thing. Nothing with the word insulation on it. Hardware store is just out of bounds. And camping is not happening, sorry sweetie.

I love you. We've been together a long time. I still remember the roses you planted under my widow in that ramshackle house I was renting. I still have the petals.

I no longer live in that house. I hope someone has cared for our roses. I love you more than I did that Valentines day almost 20 years ago. And in my soul, I can still smell our roses and still remember how beautiful the blooms.

Friday, February 11, 2011

In Sibella Court I learn to find my pinkness

I find you Pink in unexpected places.

A small moment. A pause.
Sibella Court nestles you in and among and I think this is where you belong.

At other times, she brings you together with cousins and friends.
Exploring hue and difference in sparkly wit.

I shall layer you in small unexpected moments. Weave you in and amongst. And it will be different because you are there.

One more, before we go. Mercury Glass by Sibella

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Finding my Inner Honeysuckle

  • Sticky sincerely sweet heart-shaped sentiments.
  • My daughter's cheeks when she comes inside on a cold day.
  • If a papaya and a mango met and fell in love.
  • Copper warped in light and heat.
  • A turned loop of courage, recovery, strength, and loss.
  • Overexuberant peonies drooping with the weight of their enthusiasm.
  • My skin after his first kiss.
  • The smooth inside subtly of the small overlooked shell no one bothered to pick up.
  • Floss and frosting and tissue paper and sachets.
  • Welcome morning antidote to winter's brittle darkness.
  • Unexpected moments of elemental whim captured in quartz's crystalline structure.

Quiet smile. Easy laugh. Warm embrace.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Pink and I go Way Back.

Pink and I go way back.

I remember innocent and lovely all those years ago with Baby, Blush, Rose Petal, Peach, Ballet Slipper.

And wild caloric flights of fancy with Cotton Candy, Cherry Candy, Peppermint, Bubblegum.

Of course, fruit, lots of fruit, with Strawberry Ice Cream, Strawberry Lemonade, Strawberry anything really, Raspberry, Watermelon, Peach reprised.

Quiet, sophisticated botanical reflections with Fuchsia, Orchid, Azalea, Begonia.

Heady days and steamy nights in the company of Shocking and Barbie, and Hot.

And irony, sly knowing irony, with Flamingo and Cadillac.

What am I to make of Honeysuckle. Where do you lie in my pink lexicon?

There are those who love her new spunky charms, her witty challenge to life as we know it. Caitlin McGauley, watercolor artist extraordinaire. Honeysuckle surprises in our urban sea of blacks and browns. Flippant to our all-grown-up-seriousness.

You are reckless Honeysuckle. Impromptu. I'll give you that.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Pink Flashback


Pinky sparkly skating costume (loved it).

Pink flowered wallpaper (love it, then hated it).

First pink bra with little tiny flowers that always showed through my shirt (hated it).

Neon pink jelly shoes (sadly, loved it).

Sheeny satin pink prom dress (thought I loved it).

Sweet pink corsage (loved him, loved it).

Pink bridesmaid dress (loved her, hated it).

Another pink bridesmaid dress (really? again?).

Daughter in fabulously pink-a-poofy dress (loved her, loved it).

I feel a montage coming on.