Kids, all the world is a stage, so share it with me and let us chat about anything on our minds. It's just between US. INDISCREETLY, of course-I refuse to keep it under my hat!
I won't bore you with, well, boring details of what is swirling and twirling in my life these days. But, I'm poppin' back into IU for a quick moment to say, like these red socks at this time of year...professional shoe shines are alive and well in South Florida. Well, West Palm anyway.
You heard me. Shoe shines.
Listen, in my opinion (which no one cares the least bit about) there are not enough men in the world who give a tiny rat's ass about the hue of their feet leather (don't even get me started on the possibility of shoe faux-leather).
Men feet (well, their shoes) are a BIG DEAL. It's the first thing you notice. Okay, their smile, then shoes.
Now, don't get me wrong, kids. I personally do NOT get my diamond encrusted flats and stacks polished. Come ON!
However, I proudly say that my son cares enough to spend cold cash to get all spit 'n polished. Don't be giving me the squint-eye, I'm talking about his SHOES, okay? The water hose is good enough when he wants to be really sparkly all over!
As a fan of fancy-whatever, I smile to myself, secure in the knowledge that gentility of the 30's and 40's, when men-folk really snazzed it up in the attire department, still lingers on...in small ways...like highly shimmering shoes.
One more thing.
Those red socks?
Don't consider them appropriate ALL year (not just during the ho-ho-ho season)?
Well, think again.
Our buddy across THE pond, British-Brian, demonstrated the quiet elegance of them while enduring my company aboard the Queen Victoria.
Off I go...my diamond (CZ) encursted shoes await.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Follow me on Twitter, PalmBBarkerHowl Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
Just when I thought we had taken fakery to the limit, they pull this shizz over our eyes. Fake hair extensions attached to real hair just isn't enough.
Bring on the fake eyelash extensions. Forget real ones or even regulation fake ones. Who needs 'em?
Even my sweet Cavi-Girl is throwing shade in the general direction of this absurd bit of vanity and we are sort of pro-vanity in these parts. It IS The Palm Beaches.Oh, don't get me wrong. If there is a VALID reason to thrust extension hairs upon your eyelashes, get on that. However, to pay hundred of dollars, pecos (probably thousands), euros, pounds (probably hundreds of thousands) to some beauty professional (using that term very loosely) just so you don't have to use eyeliner and mascara. Please. What did Maybelline do to deserve such disrespect?
Naturally, scads (that's a lot) of people are pouncing on this rage and prancing in and fluttering their lids closed for a total eyeball transformation.
I suppose there are worse places you could attach fake hair extensions, but I dare not utter the words else tomorrow we will discover it being done in some high-falution' (fancy way above my head) spa place in Beverly Hills.
Hell, they are probably already doin' it. You know, the opposite of Brazilian Waxing will be all the rage. Sorry for the image, but there is just no other way to say it, kids. I am not about to seek images for THAT. Come ON, who needs to see THAT? We don't even need to think about it, do we? We are thinking about it though, aren't we?
I never claimed IU was classy, now did I?
Alright.
If mascara just ruins your image, for hundreds in the U.S. your lashes can be just like these.
Until they fall out and you have to fall back on old reliable. You know, letting your real ones grow out...so you can go get fake extensions.
Endless, vicious circle.
Gotta go and hit up the Maybelline counter. I respect their black-goo!
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. It's cheap, so get on that as a holiday stocking stuffer!
You know how they say it is NEVER too late to send a Thank You note? Well, that's what we always say 'round Indiscreetly.
Therefore, it is NEVER too late to post a worthy blog on Indiscreetly Us, and I offer you a beautiful submission from our dear, British-Brian and Mo.
Yeah, toss a seashell at me for being tardy, but no less appreciative.
I won't say much more, except that I grew up knowing and wearing poppies. As the daughter of a veteran, I was schooled early on regarding the importance of its meaning.
Brian is quite correct, where WOULD we be without such sacrifices?
Contributed by: Brian Wilson Bath, UK All Rights Reserved and Copyrighted
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Thanksgiving - we have a lot to be thankful for - and a lot to be thankful to others.
At this time of the year all you good folks in US land are celebrating Thanksgiving and on the 11th November you have "Veterns' Day."
Over this side of the "pond", on 11th November, we celebrate "Poppy Day" or Remembrance Day.
Since the end of World War 1 is has been kept as a memorial day to remember the members of the armed forces who have died in the line of duty, in all wars and conflicts.
There are still members of our armed services being repatriated to the UK It is on this day that we remember the fallen of all wars and conflicts.
This ceremony takes place on the first Sunday after the 11th November not only in UK, but also in all countries of The Commonwealth.
This year, we had the significant reminder of the ceremony , on a Sunday, at 11 hrs, on the 11th of the 11th month of the 11th year (11 - 11/11/11)= The date is very significant - on that date in 1918; hostilities formally ended "at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month" of 1918 with the German signing of the Armistice. So at this time of the year, we in the UK, observe two minutes of silence on 11 November.
But, why the poppy? Well, just after WW1 a poem,"In Flanders fields" , became very popular. It noted that poppies bloomed across some of the worst battlefields of Flanders - their brilliant red colour an appropriate symbol for the blood spilled in the warThe British Legion - the organisation that collects money and gives support to ex service people and their families, has, for many years, used the poppy as a way to raise funds. Poppies are made and sold just before 11th November.
Most people in the UK buy and wear a poppy, not to celebrate war, or to show support for any particular war - but to celebrate the sacrifice of so many - a sacrifice that is still being given today.
Wear your poppy with pride.
After WW1, most villages/towns and cities built a war memorial with the names of the fallen and it is here that local people remember all those who have died in the service of their country, in all wars. The main site of Remembrance is in London, at the Cenotaph in Whitehall.
It is a very solemn occasion and the Queen leads the laying of poppy wreaths on behalf of the Country, followed by representatives of the armed services. politicians etc ..
Then, led by the massed bands of all the Services, there is a long line of ex-servicemen marching along Whitehall past The Cenotaph, saluting as they pass by and handing their wreath to be placed on the steps of The Cenotaph.
The Cenotaph - laying of the wreaths before the march past of the veterans.
In 2009 there was a particular poignant part of this march past - the last three British-resident veterans of World War I attended the 2008 ceremony but they all died in 2009. Henry Allingham, Harry Patch and Bill Stone. All WW1 servicemen in 2008.
I was going to say "sorry" to you all for this blog - with it's tone of sorrow and sacrifice - but heck, if it had not been for those who fought and those who gave their lives - where would we be now?
We must not forget all those who have died and have suffered in the all to many wars in recent years - and realise that it is sad reality that more young men and women will join the fallen in the years to come
I cannot say more than to recite the poem, written by Laurence Binyon in 1914, that closes all such Remembrance services: -
" They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them.
Love to all on Remembrance/Veterans Day - and all the best for the upcoming Thanksgiving Day - we all have a lot to be thankful for!
The holidays are twirling all 'round, well, Thanksgiving has twirled right on in and out.We did it al fresco and it was fabulous. But, done-is-done, so like the month of November, it is time to move on.
Although the temps will be dipping over the next few days and nights, South Florida is not the ideal locale if you dream of a white Christmas.
As a matter of fact, we went ahead and started a rip-roarin' blaze in the outdoor firepit the other evening.
Did we care if the thermometer was nestled in at 73 degrees? Nope. Not even a little bit.
A flame, a glass of wine and some fun board games and we're talkin' perfection.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Follow me on Twitter, PalmBBarkerHowl
You buy all sorts of cute outfits and either go to classes or buy assorted dvd exercise titles.
Let us not forget the bicycle fanatics, hunched over their ridiculously expensive bikes. There are tons of 'em around here...zipping along the coastline...all the while ignoring the basic traffic laws (they want the right-of-way as they should have, but they don't want to follow the law themselves). Go figure. Lance Armstrong, look what you started.
Yeah, it's all the shizz, going back to Jane and before her Jack LaLanne.
I won't kid ya, around my digs it is played out a LITTLE bit differently, this exercise insanity.
Getting all dolled up in crappy shorts and a faded tee shirt, I pop in some music and get busy feeling the burn, the sting and the smell of cleaning solutions. Ah, the burn of scrubbing toilets, showers, tubs, sinks, mirrors and let us not forget about the muscle-toning that comes while flinging a vacuum cleaner hither-and-yon.
Wait, I forgot all about changing sheets, overall dusting, AND laundry (lugging loads up and down stairs is a million times better than any stairmaster or spinning class).
Now, I fully realize this is making you bubble with envy...the image of me getting all toned and fabulous-not to mention my gleaming toilet bowl.
But, wait.
Another dweller 'round these parts has a different idea of exercising her exercise options.
Yep, she puts on cute-as-can-be official workout togs, plops down an official-official Yoga/Workout mat, pops in an official-official Pilates (fill in the blank workout DVD title) and stretches, tones and just basically puts me to shame with her regime.
Why bother with ANY of this jazz when your mutt can do it FOR you?
Gotta get busy training MY mutt to take over the household duties like the dog in this video.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
If you don't know about Sophia Grace, then you have MISSED IT!!
The United Kingdom should be quite proud of this kid and her side-kick, Rosie.
Go look for 'em if you don't know what I'm talking about...in the meantime...here is the fabulous, Ellen, and HER sidekicks puttin' it on as those two precocious English girlie-girls!!
Enjoy...
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks! Facebook friend me!
Here we go again...swinging those clock-hands hither-and-yon (yeah, I know most timepieces don't even have those anymore, just go with it, okay?).
Well, I'm not sure, but I think this time it is yon as we are sliding things back an hour.
Yep, we bid adieu to DST and I'm good with it.
Really, I don't give a tiny rat's ass about it, I just wish they would keep it one way or the other (I have this rant on a long-playing record).
Although a recent article blathered on about how switching the time around could be hazardous to our health and so forth. Something about our internal wiring and jazz like that.
Whatever, I'm just happy as a South Florida clam to grab that extra hour this weekend, and now I'll let the elegant Ms. E sing about all things Night and Day without one note wasted on DST.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
It is the Autumn of the year (even though we are still swimming and wearing sandals in South Florida) and I would so enjoy being back in one of my favorite cities in the world, Venice.
Our last visit was in November and it was perfection. It rained a bit, but it only added to the sheer joy of that perfect city.
Well,if we can not be there in person, British Brian and Mo to the rescue. Come on, let us peek in on their recent sashay all 'round that little slice of heaven-on-earth.
Now, Brian sent along some of his photos and they were excellent, but I chose to drop in a few of Gaz and I, just to soothe the soul (ours) and make us feel closer to all things Italian. I am certain those zany Brits don't mind, in the least, us horning our way into their trip (we're American, so what else would anyone expect?).
Oh, and just for good measure, let me also drop in this little promo clip of a movie that was NOT a hit, but I watch it on loop just to see Venice.
Read on...
Contributed by: Brian Wilson United Kingdom All rights reserved and copyrighted.
Before I start on these remmisances, let’s go back a bit.
Mo and I wanted a late summer break – we have had a very hectic summer – we wanted to revisit Venice and Istanbul – we wanted lots of things to do, rather than time at sea.
Remember that marvellous voyage around the Caribbean (where we met some very nice American couples from Florida)? – well, we wanted to go with Cunard again.
So, trawling through the Internet I found a 12 day trip, with The Queen Victoria covering Venice, Split (Croatia) Corfu, Athens, Istanbul, Rhodes, Santorini and back to Rome – and flights out and back home were included!
Venice – La Serenissima – the Grand Canal winds it’s way between these group of islands.
I tracked the prices and found some very “interesting” offers. So, we thought we would jump at this chance to find out what the Princess Grill “experience” was really like.
We knew that the “Grills Experience” meant that our stateroom would be larger and situated amidships – that we could dine at any time in the evening (well up to 9.30 start anyhow) – that we would have priority check in – that we had a welcome meeting with the Captain – and that we could have afternoon tea – and lots more. Where we about to be disappointed? – let’s find out!!
The Queen Victoria – our Princess Grill Stateroom was amidships on the 7th Deck.
Day 1 of our voyage was to fly Heathrow to Venice – well someone has to do it!! We took off at 12.50 (British Airways (chartered by Cunard) – what a civilised time –and we landed at Marco Polo, Venice at 16.00hrs (don’t forget Italy is 1 hour ahead of the UK).
The highlight of the flight was flying over the Alps – the sky was blue, there were no clouds and the sun was shining, so the mountains were as clear as a bell (many still with snow on their tops).
You felt you could reach out and touch them.
We left an autumnal day in London and arrived at a balmy 24 degrees Centigrade in Venice – oh the delights of warmth!!
Once we had cleared Customs we were on our way to The Queen Victoria – the “booking in” procedures were very slick.
Soon, we were resting in our stateroom, it was everything that the brochure said it would be, we had plenty of room – and a larger bathroom with bath and a shower! There was a bottle of sparkling wine waiting for us – this is the life!!
Our Princess Grill Stateroom
We were soon at our table for 6 guests at 7.30 pm. Greeting us there was a couple from Florida – yes, yet another couple from Florida! –and a couple who live just 80 miles from us in the UK! – the other 2 people could not make the trip (I hope that all was well with them).
So let’s start with the food.
We remembered from our March cruise, (where we had a Balcony stateroom) – that the food in the Britannia Restaurant was excellent – as was the company. But, this time – in The Princess Grill – we could choose what time we ate – we were not tied to 6.30/8.30. The Service was attentive and, as for the food, well what can we say. The choices facing us were worthy of the best of restaurants – and the cooking and presentation could not be faulted.
The Princess Grill Restaurant – our table was by the window – oh what views.
I had one of the best steaks I have ever had and Mo, who chose the Dover Sole, was lost for words (well almost!!). So far so good – we settled down for our night’s sleep.
Day 2 was a full day in Venice Now, we have visited Venice a number of times, so, after paying ”homage” to San Marco, we struck out. away from the crowds.
Looking from the Grand Cabal to San Marco – with the Campanile on the left and the Doge’s Palace on the right.
Now here’s a tip – if you want to see the less crowded parts of Venice, do not follow the crowds.
There are some beautiful sights in Venice (my darling Mo alongside the Doge’s Palace).
We took a “waterbus” or Vaporatti along the Grand Canal – it is the only way to see the beauty of this unreal world. There are so many Palaces – so much to see - the Venice of a bygone age But a warning – if you want to stay in a flat or rent a room in one of the big Hotels on The Grand Canal, be prepared to pay a high price.
A market in Venice – you go shopping on foot, or by boat.
If you are a typical tourist and do not mind the cost – try a gondola – we gave it a miss. These boats are made to an age-old design that isn’t symmetrical, as the Gondoliers stand at one side of the boat to “paddle” and steer. Lots of tourists, especially people from Japan, were being ferried by Gondola – and some had Venetians singing “O Solo Mio” as the barcarolle (the correct term for a song by Gondoliers. Those with a “musical bent” will know that “O Solo Mio’ is a Neapolitan song – ah well you cannot have everything
Gondoliers have to take care when navigating around Venice.
We then went onto the other islands in the lagoon – Murano – you know the one that produces all that lovely glass Ok we had to have yet another coffee and just enjoyed our favourite pastime – watching the world go by.
Back to The Queen Victoria for one of the highlights of our trip – the leaving of Venice..
Now,I know it may seem a bit silly to highlight the leaving of Venice - but wait – we left our berth at Marittima and sailed majestically along the Canale della Guidecca until we came upon the heart of Venice: - St Marks Square (Piazza and Duomo San Marco, the Doges Palace and the Main Waterfront Our Stateroom was on the 7th floor on the port side, so we could see all this while drinking a “G and T” - we thought of you both and raised a glass.
Goodbye to Venice – the evening light was so soft, creating a mystical image.
We then steamed out across the Venetian Lagoon and onwards to Croatia If our trip had stopped there we would have been “very happy bunnies” – but we knew that more was to come.
"Nothing so fortifies a friendship as a belief on the part of one friend that he is superior to the other."-Balzac
Do you know Balzac?
Rather, do you enjoy his work or words?
I mean it isn't like he has been around lately to spout observations on humanity. Too bad about that as I am sure it would be spot-on.
Now, if you aren't a fan, that's cool.
Me?
I am a fan.
Why?
Because I simply like his style. Not everything, but some of it is pure gold.
Take the above quote.
Is that accurate?
In a relationship does one person HAVE to feel superior?
Ponder THAT one for a few minutes.
I do and I envision particular friends and I am CERTAIN they not only feel superior to me-they ARE, in fact, superior.
Knowing and accepting this factoid gives me great comfort as I feel superior to, oh, certain cats I know. Just certain ones, not all, you understand.
Actually, I also believe if Balzac were hanging 'round my little circle of zaniness, he would rewrite that quote and it would be something along the lines of..."Animals are better at being best friends than many people, and that's a fact, Jack."
Cats and dogs really can be BFF's without an Alpha or superior one having the upper hand and I have photographic proof.
Now, I ask you, do YOU have any BFF's, any friends at all, willing to hang out beside you while you dry yourself in a towel like these kids?
Uh-huh, see what I mean. You aren't as superior as you suspected. Deal with it and move on.
Cheers and all due respect to Honore B. on having rewritten his quote.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks! Friend me on Facebook!
British Brian and Mo are always up to wondrous things across the pond. Seems you can't swing a scone without hitting some project they are embroiled in.
Recently, Brian posed a query (imagine me with a British accent saying that word) about sharing recipes across the sea.
What do you kids say?
I say I like it, so let us spill it right here on, Indiscreetly Us.
As Brian and Mo have already given us their glorious wine and jam making tips,(remember the Quince?), let me toss something into the mix.
So, from the zany kitchen here in the Palm Beaches I will confess that although I adore cooking (we do it a lot 'round here) and I enjoy creating new creations from scratch, I am not above taking a few shortcuts along the way.
One of my favorites?
BROWNIES FROM A PACKAGE THAT TASTE LIKE THEY WERE MADE FROM SCRATCH...
Prepare a packaged mix as directed Add 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate morsels (extra chocolate richness) Dash of cinnamon (eliminates any hint of it being a mix) Bake Cool
I top with a homemade minute-fudge frosting that my mother always used and my family greatly enjoys.
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Hope you will share something from your kitchen.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks! Friend me on Facebook.
Stellar day here in the Palm Beaches because I can officially control the controls of a TOW TRUCK!
You heard me.
Early this morning a massive transport truck pulled to the curb to take our red Vespa for a ride and you'll never guess what happened.
Wait, you probably have already guessed, but I am going to yap about it anyway.
Driver lowers the bed of the truck, pushes the scooter forward and then, casually, says I should go to the side/front of the truck and depress a lever (of which there were thousands...okay, four) until the bed is level once again.
What?
You talkin' to me?
It can't level itself, automatically?
What kind of idiotic towing process is THIS?
By-the-way, who sends a vehicle this size for a VESPA? It's a scooter.
Well, as I couldn't let my Italian two-wheeler languish at a slant, I zoned in and worked that control until the scooter was as level as the water in the Atlantic Ocena. Oh, yeah.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Friend me on Facebook!
We wore sweaters this weekend. For about an hour and then we were back in shorts.
Now, here we are at Monday and I'm clicking the keys to welcome the week.
Yes, I know I promised more Queen Victoria from British Brian, and it is in the queue, so never fear.
But, as I have been seriously hunkered down with writing (now up to Chapter Twenty) my fictional creation, Privately Palmer, I am a bit behind. For those who connect with me on my personal Facebook also know that Britt and I have been doing kooky Halloween stuff (complete with the video of our ghost who moos instead of boos). It IS Autumn, even as we continue to wear shorts and sandals in South Florida.
Guess what?
It's also Autumn (in case you didn't know) over in the United Kingdom and British Brian and Mo don't just take sassy trips on the QV.
Read on to find out more about the wine and jelly making shenanigans from across the pond. And, when he says he has wine for two good folks...he ain't speaking of YOU kids!!
Oh, what in HOLY HELL is a Quince???
Brian never ceases to bring me something fabulous and I'm thinking a Quince is just that. For one thing, I love the fact that it gets ready when it feels like it...sort of like me!
Contributed by Brian Wilson Bath, UK All rights reserved and copyrighted
Over here Autumn is well advanced - but you would not think so, as the sun has been shining (at least in our area) - plants and animals seem to be a bit confused. Our Boysenberry (a cross between a European Raspberry, a Common Blackberry, and a Loganberry) - unfortunately it is not named after my lovely Mo (Boys that is) - is still flourishing and bringing on more and more berries.
Boysenberries ripe for picking. It has large fruits, deep maroon/black colour and is ideal for pies, jams, or just eating as fruit. Seems to think it is still late summers as it continues to fruit (well we're not grumbling as the taste is "yummy").
The same is true for our Raspberries - you really cannot beat just fresh from the garden. So we have been picking them and adding into fruit pies or even making more jam.
Everyone's garden seems to have gone mad.
A friend of ours found that his grape vines (that form the pergola covering the patio) were ready for picking - so I traipsed off and spent an afternoon picking grapes. They were very sweet - mmmm.
Then back home to remove the grapes from the larger stalks - they weighed 90lbs!! Then came the pressing. We have a small fruit press that can press up to 24lb of apples.
Inside the wooden frame I put a net bag, then piled in the grapes. Winding the handle down lowered a wooden plate on top of the grapes - the juice began to flow.
After one press, I mixed the pressed grapes up again - then back into the press to extract the last of the lovely juice.
After 3 hours I had 5 gallons of grape juice - all held in one of my larger fermenting vessels (I must sound as if I have a "production unit - but it is only for home consumption - we have some of 2010 waiting for you two good folks in 2012).
Then add in a bit more sugar (as grapes grown in the UK have not have enough sun to increase the sugar content of the grapes), then some yeast (A champagne yeast) - give it all a good stir and then put it to one side and let fermentation begin. We hope to have the wine ready for autumn 2012 - or even earlier.
We were also given 14lbs of quince.
The Quince is a member of the apple family, it needs some care and attention before you can eat it - but it is worth all the trouble.
It's a devil to peel and can be rock hard. Yet baked or pickled and eaten with ham or cheese, the quince becomes a rare treat.
You cannot hurry a cooking quince. They are ready when they feel like it. It can take half an hour or more to poach to tenderness in a sugar syrup. But, the scent of them cooking fills the house with a rich, mellow sweetness. The quince can be made into a lovely pickle, jam or wine - added to an apple pie gives a beautiful fragrance and a subtle perfume. But, we made them into jam, jelly and wine.
Now a question to all you out there in US land - does anyone still make home made wine, jam or jelly?
If so Pam, let's start a part of your blogs "Recipes across the ether" - come on folks, give up your secrets!!
If you are wondering about my bees - more of that later
Love to one and all - Brian and Mo!
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Listen, I have some fun stuff coming up this week from, British Brian and his sidekick, Mo. Yep, that zany duo lived the high life on yet another Queen Victoria cruise and you do NOT want to miss what they share.
However, as it is a rainy (I would say fallish, but when it's 90 degrees and I'm in shorts and flip-flops that simply is not accurate) Monday, let me share what Gaz and I did on a rainy, Sunday (yesterday).
We zipped down I95 to Ft. Lauderdale to hang out on the Allure of the Seas for the world premier of, Puss in Boots. It was a day with Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek and their on-screen characters, Puss in Boots and Kitty Soft Paws (apply the proper character to the proper celeb, I can't do everything). Even in the rain, it was a groovy way to spend a day and the movie isn't bad either.
Salma and Antonio were gracious as they greeted the press peeps. She is PERFECT and tiny, tiny, tiny (well, not ALL tiny) and so glam even dressed down in a super casual ensemble. He was engaging and seemed like a genuine sort of guy (is that possible in the world of celebs?).
Now, come on back later this week for more British Brian and his Marvelous Mo!!
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MOMENTS after I hit the publish button, BAM...in floats this from Brian of Bath, UK.
First, I'm just now getting over that he and the fabulous, Mo, were wining, dining and dancing all OV-AH the gorgeous, Queen Victoria.
Second, I feel bad for being jealous (not really) and am wondering if he had on his famous (or infamous) RED socks.
Third, he MAY have uttered some expletives? Hell and damn, I have uttered no less than 50 of 'em in the last two hours alone!
Fourth and the most important one, please notice that after being HIT BY A TRAM, Brian (oh, that Brit) hauls it inside for a nice cup of tea. A CUP OF TEA, kids!!! You (and by YOU, I mean ME) can't touch that sort of depth of character.
Read on...
Contributed by: Brian Wilson Bath UK All rights reserved and copyrighted
We got back from our trip on the 4th October and we have had so much catching up to do.
Also I am nursing lots of big bruises - no, its not Mo it was a tram - yes a tram!!
We were in Istanbul for 2 days and on day 2 we took a tram from the harbour up to the Blue Mosque - it really was something to marvel at (more of the later).
The Blue Mosque
We then walked down to the Suleymaniye Mosque, had a welcome cup of turkish tea and coffee and then girded up our loins for the fray.
There was quite a queue for the Suleymaniye Mosque - people were waiting alongside a wall on the pavement.
There were so many people going up and down, so we went to find the end of the queue, Mo was in front and I was walking on the pavement (trying not to barge into people), when BASH.
A tram came by - the tracks are within an inch of the pavement - and it caught me on my shoulder, elbow, hip and leg - sending me flying past Mo and ending on my back, on the pavement!
The tram is still going by - but then rescue came from 2 Turkish guides (there are so many "guides" offering to help you) who immediately moved me away from the pavement as my feet were over the edge of the pavement and the tram is still going by!!
If it had not been for them I may now be a foot shorter!! The trams not only run very close to the pavement, they consist of a number of carriages - and these "bend" on corners.
Is this the offending tram? - notice how close it is to the pavements edge
As you can imagine I was in shock - so was Mo.
Bu,t our guides pulled me up and took me into the Suleymaniye Mosque, by passing all the queues, to get us into a cafe so we could have a cup of tea. I cannot tell you how grateful we were to these guides - who, once they had ensured we were ok (no broken bones) left to carry on with their work.
So, in true Brit style, after 40 minutes of tea and rest we went into the Suleymaniye Mosque - again a sight for sore eyes.
The interior of the Suleymaniye Mosque
I was hobbling around, my knee hut and as for my hip - well I may have let out one or two anglo saxon expletives!
But, I was determined to carry on - after all we had come this far - us Brits are made of strong stuff you know.
After that, I stumbled to the Topkapi Palace - another must to see when in Istanbul -it needs a day on it's own.
Then back to the Queen Vic and the Doctor - who checked me over and (I really did not believe it) but I had not broken anything (apart from a slight graze on my knee) - but the bruises were already arriving!!
When Mo and I reviewed the day, a cold shudder came over us when we thought what could so easily have happened, if the 2 Turkish guides were not on hand or if they had not acted so quickly.
I am now the proud owner of a bruised elbow (but that's going down now) and a rather impressive multi coloured bruise over my hip, left buttock, up to the base of my spine and down my left leg!
I will spare you the photo of my "rear end" - I do not want to be accused of sending porn over the net!!
I have been writing my blog of the trip - so wait a few days for the next instalment.
You know how some days are just one of THOSE days?
Yeah, today is one of THOSE.
Quite frequently I refer to this as me feeling like a prickly-pear. A day that is annoying and cranky-inducing as I have utterly lost control of the situation. The situation being concentrating on writing.
Attempting to move my fictional creation, Privately Palmer, along has been, um, IMPOSSIBLE.
It is not that I need absolute silence or things such as that. A modicum of peace would be EXTREMELY helpful.
Here is a sampling of my silly frustrations (some remain private...like Palmer):
#Lawn service guys arrived at 7:45 am and began trimming shrubs. Loud and then some.
#Lawn service guys trimmed shrubs until 3:00 pm.
#Animal types DEMANDED unusual amounts of attention and would NOT be put off until later.
#The shrubs were trimmed a ridiculous amount (yes I am grateful to have folks do this service, but they went way too far) and now look beyond skimpy. I liked 'em beter shaggy.
#Animal type lounged and frolicked in a basket of clean and folded clothing which now must be returned to the laundry (yes, my fault as I should have promptly put them away...now, where IS that sword?).
#Foam core with precisely organized notes kept falling and notes dropping off.
See what I mean? Nothing major, just minor annoyances I am ALLOWING to distract me.
Perhaps the universe is simply slapping me in the face and shouting that the world does NOT need another potentially fabulousecharacter thrown into the fictional arena.
Probably, but I refuse to accept that scenario, so I will see if I am able to corral my concentration and compose dialogue at a later time. Doubtful, but I once heard that Danielle Steele wrote her first novel late at night/early morning in the bathroom, on a yellow-pad after her nine or ninety kiddies had drifted into dreamland.
True? I have no idea, but if I have to resort to writing in the bathroom, I'm hauling in a recliner with wooden arms and a loaded mini-fridge. I'm more than willing to pay a bunch of dues (haven't I already done that?) and all, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna write while sitting on the side of the bathtub or worse! Then again, it worked out splendidly for Di. Hm.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks!
Wednesday is not simply hump-day 'round the beaches, it is also time for dining-in-the-daylight 'round the beaches.
In other words, Britt and I amble around the Palm Beaches until we land at a restaurant and sample their cuisine.
Yesterday, we rolled into a place on PGA in Palm Beach Gardens called, Carmine's. A restaurant and market combo, we found it to be one fascinating place-clean and inviting.
To be honest we had a rocky beginning before we even tasted the tiniest morsel. Our adventure began in the buzzing parking lot. It was overflowing with zipping around by less than patient (understatement) drivers, while some random gentleman in white shorts stationed himself in a position to sort of, well, direct the traffic. It was crazy.
This being our first time, we didn't know the spaghetti ropes so once inside, we sauntered to an area with signage proclaiming it to be their Pizzeria. Which turned out to be a modest sized restaurant.
First impression?
Good.
Why?
Because I'm a sucker for white table clothes and linen napkins. Call me shallow. Many have.
Second impression?
Confused.
Why?
Because there was no signage regarding seating (seat yourself or wait to be seated).
Some random, yet official looking, guy pushed past us without any eye-contact and barked for us to take a seat. He also mumbled something about inside, the other side (whatever that meant) or outside.
With a shrug of our shoulders, inside it was.
Atmosphere is very nice.
Service was adequate (lower end of the scale).
Food was both excellent (soup and salad), and marginal (chicken parmigiana). The chicken was a little overcooked, but had the potential to be really tasty.
After lunch we roamed through the market portion of the place and departed with the most beautiful fresh fish (Sole) and two boxes of desserts (we later deemed them fabulous).
The fish market guy was service oriented, and friendly. Unfortunately, the same can not be said of the lady boxing up the sugary confections. The guy ahead of me got the friendly one, so next time I will shuffle around until she's free. It would be worth the wait, believe me.
In conclusion, Carmine's is a place I will visit again. The outside seating area is lovely as it is waterfront with scads of expensive looking boats bobbing around for your viewing pleasure.
Anxious to visit the market section in the near future and see what food treasures are to be found.
Oh, next time I will opt for the complimentary Valet Parking.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Last evening found us at Duffy's. You know, the place where you dine with zany types (that's why we fit in) and football helmets. Duffy's is a SPORTS BAR!!
Hundreds (could be an exaggeration) of screens line the joint with, well, sports shows.
One quick glance told me these guys just don't get it. Not one screen was flashing the flashiest of sports shows. Dancing with the Stars (they have taken major liberty with that term). Seriously, if THAT isn't a true sport, I am at a loss. Apparently, DAWN-CING is NOT an approved sport in the world of Duffy's (this according to our server-who obviously has NEVER taken a dance class). Fred and Ginger must be spinning at this nonsense.
I often ask myself and anyone around me who will listen (not that many), why restaurant bars keep their televisions tuned to sports channels, exclusively.
Think about that for a second.
How many establishments offer up anything for our viewing pleasure except sports?
See what I mean.
Oh, I am not REALLY talking about a bar that is absolutely designed to cater to sports fans. I'm giving the squint-eye to ALL sorts of restaurants from A-to-Z. No matter the price range, no matter the particular cuisine, no matter anything. Almost without fail, restaurants will have their bar screens blasting out some sport. Even if it's amateur ping-pong,marbles or horseshoe tossing...it is sports.
Would it kill 'em to switch over to Turner Classic Movies, the Food Network or a little Bravo once in a blue moon? It isn't very sporting of them to neglect an entire segment of diners, is it?
Just for grins I would like to sit in the bar at Morton's, sip a lovely Malbec, nibble on sliders and focus my blood-shot eyes on Paula Deen slapping butter and mayo on everything in her kitchen. Now THAT is a sport!
Naturally, I assume they have done scads of market research and totally understand that sports is THE one and only way to keep idiots, I mean diners, spending cold cash on food and beverage.
Evidently the majority of diners spin with rapture while swilling beer, gulping potato skins while allowing their eyes to glaze over enjoying the very finest of fine...wrestling.
This sports bar phenomenon is holding on for dear life, and I fear turning that tide would resemble getting the Kardashians out of the media arena. An impossible, but quite appealing dream. Oh, if only, but that's another blog.
Moving on, I have concluded I shall begin an online (where else?) campaign to lobby for some restaurant (and when I say restaurant, I am casting an eye at places like Arby's) to step up, slap a flat-screen on a greasy wall and anchor that channel on something more girlie (and when I say girlie, you can apply that to anyone).
Actually, I don't care WHAT channel Arby's (insert YOUR favorite greasy-spoon here) dials in, just NOT sports 24/7.
Kids, I am a good sport (don't listen to my nearest and dearest) and willing to share the screen time with sports fanatics...50/50.
Come ON, didn't restaurant bars learn the Golden Rule of sharing? I think I know the answer to that question.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Facebook Friend, Vivienne Rae, The Unreal Housewife of Palm Beach Gardens! Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Well, then you need to cast your bloodshot eyes upon, Vivienne Rae. She's so real...she's UNREAL!
Episode One of this, um, Florida debutante, is now available...absolutely free on YouTube. Kids, I won't even make you bother going to YouTube. Introducing, Vivienne Rae, Totally Unreal.
Get to know, The Totally Unreal Housewife of Palm Beach Gardens...Vivienne Rae. You're gonna love her wine-swilling, stiletto-rambling ways.
Check out her Facebook page and friend her.
Oh, be sure to watch the video until the very end. You don't want to miss it, I promise.
More to come. That's more a threat than a promise!
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Around my domicile you just never know WHAT will jump out at ya when you open the fridge. Mostly whatever it is would definitely NOT be considered blog-worthy. However, on the rare occasion it definitely IS.
Take the other day when I reached in for juice and yogurt and right there, hanging out with the Splash, I found some product called LUSH staring back at me. Just waiting, with a little note.
LUSH?
You may not realize it, but I pride myself on being spot-on with new products of all sorts. But, LUSH?
Confusion ran through my brain. Was someone trying to tell me something? I mean I have a glass of wine here-and-there and the occasional vodka cocktail, but LUSH? Hardly.
With trepidation, I removed the product for closer inspection. What in the world was LUSH, I pondered?
Reading the instructions left behind by the invisible gift-giver, I smiled.
Although I freely admit I had never heard of this brand, I know about it now. Not only was there a cool (literally) gift in the ice box (love that old-school terminology, don't you?), but there were more scattered about. Oh, what fabulous gifts I had received.
Do you kids know about this stuff?
I mean I think hand lotion in the form of a bar of soap is quite spectacular. But, maybe I'm easily impressed. No, that can't be it.
If you aren't a LUSH lover, as yet, here is why you should consider becoming one.
Call me lazy, I'm good with that moniker, because I let Wikipedia 'splain the factoids of LUSH to ya.
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From Wiki...Lush (trademarked in capitals as LUSH) is a handmade cosmetics company headquartered in Poole, Dorset in the UK. Incorporated by Companies House in 1994 originally under the name Cosmetic House Limited, Lush adopted their current name on 10 April 1995. There are now more than 600 stores in 43 countries. Lush produces and sells a variety of handmade products, including face masks, soaps, bath bombs, bubble bars, hand and body lotions and hair treatments. In 1994, husband and wife Mark and Mo Constantine opened the first LUSH store in Poole.
LUSH uses fruit and vegetables, essential oils, and synthetic ingredients in all products produced. In addition to not using animal fats in their products, they are also against animal testing and perform tests solely with volunteers instead.
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Sounds good, huh? Sounds good and IS good.
My giver-of-gifts quite accurately understood I would need coaching and considerately placed little star-shaped stickies on each product, explaining their name and use. Don't be giving me the old squint-eye until you have some bar lotion of your own.
So, there you have it and doesn't it all sound simply too divine? Who wouldn't want to get bath bombed? Oh, wait. Can you do that without vodka? Hm.
Still, I am curious as to why my dear friend, British-Brian, failed to mention LUSH to me. I mean, it is a UK product, he is a UK product, and it is sort of a small kingdom, so how hard could it be for him to be a sharing LUSH-LOVER?
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Oh, to feel special and above the crowd. Isn't it grand?
Personally, I have no idea, but the other evening while perusing the mail-just for an instant, I got euphoric. Gazing upon words emblazoned across the left side of a nondescript brown envelope, my lips curled into what some would call a smile. Granted, others would deem it a smirk, but that's another blog.
Kids, just for an instant, I felt, well, special. The mail never lies, the contents of this particular envelope was meant for my eyes and only my eyes. No others were being invited to the party going on inside the sealed brown paper.
Fantastic! I HAD to be just as special as could be, and I had the United States Postal Service backing my claim. Flying high was I until glancing to the actual address label and saw that it was meant for the addressee, OR...CURRENT RESIDENT.
What's this?
Crushed and ego deflated, I realized I was no more special than any random current occupant.
Made me think back to breakfast at a Pancake House last weekend. Roaming around the restaurant, WAY too early, was some latex artist.
Oh, there she was, moving from table-to-table, creating balloon masterpieces for all the kiddies. Made them feel special I'm sure.
The kid in me kind of wanted one, but my breakfast mate threw shade on my idea of calling her over and requesting that she make me a balloon Mercedes. Damn him!
Can't get special treatment, even at a Pancake House.
But, wait. There are more ways to feel special than junk mail. Oh, yeah.
And, here you go. Your basic, old-fashioned Coke Float, made with love, and the loving hands of someone you love. And, it's meant specifically for one person, not any old person hanging around.
Now, THAT'S special.
Mail, balloon animals or what-have-you...I know when I've got a special thing going and I'm grateful.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes and Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Watching that ridiculous Emmy Awards show last evening proved to be, um, interesting.
Oh, I'm not blathering on about the show, the idiots on the show, the clothes on the idiots on the show or watching Charlie Sheen (I did NOT call him an idiot). See, I decided to doll-up a bit, grab some grub and nestle in for a LONG evening of watching. No one around me wanted to join in my folly, so I had to go it alone.
But, wait. This is where having technology all 'round us means never having to be truly alone while watching vapid small-screen shenanigans.
Thanks to technology it was texting to a Minnesota chum and Facebooking to the unfortunates who also happened to be socially networking during the Em's.
Quite fun to interact remotely, but this is where it also gets dicey and annoying. The Facebooking part. Commenting on Facebook continues to rankle me (you've heard it before and now you hear it again).
The way I see it, other folks commenting on the status of a mutual friend do NOT give a tiny rat's ass what I have to say to a random someone on Facebook. Sometimes I don't care.
YET, commenting on a status statement (clear?), begins an endless domino effect. Unfortunately, you not only get to see ALL the other comments-they are FORCED to gaze upon your random ramblings. It is absurd and makes me extremely hesitant to bother commenting, even when I really want to contribute my thoughts (and, I do have some). Nah, mostly, I simply hit the Like button. Of course, sometimes Like is not adequate. So, as you can see by my, Indiscreetly Us, status...I don't like to comment on Facebook, even when I DO it, I don't like it!
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Summer is holding on by a tiny ray-of-light. It all wraps up this week and we fall into Autumn. Much relieved to see that Petco wants dog owners to get on THAT. Season is changing, so grab a dog coat and bundle that mutt right on up.
Naturally, in South Florida, even the idea of putting a furry coat on your canine borders on dog abuse.
Still, just to be on the safe side, if the thermometer dips below seventy, we have it under control.
More likely to appear on a hound in these parts is that other little number. The beach bum outfit.
See ya 'round the beaches. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend us at Indiscreetly Us, and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Another month, another awards show. But, this time it has a modicum of respect. Oh, don't be skeptical.
Granted, it could be yet another snooze-fest, but I will tune in. And, why not? Jane Lynch could pull it off without making us want to throw a box of old remote controls at the screen. Could happen.
However, I recommend forgetting about the cast of nominees for 2011 and wrap your head around a winner from, oh, fifty years ago.
The incomparable, Raymond Burr, people. The one and only Perry Mason.
Not only were Perry, Della, Hamilton Burger (get it?) and Paul Drake the coolest cats practicing legal shenanigans, they were quite frequently surrounded by a dreamy support cast.
You couldn't toss a silver ashtray or dog-eared law book without hitting some tight sweater wearing, sex-kitten. Every episode had slinky vamps trailing along with men who were chain smoking, martini drinking scoundrels.
They all looked guilty and it was up to Perry to break 'em down on the stand. Good times!
So, forget about the Emmy nominated, Madmen...it's a shallow imitation...mere shell to the black and white mystery-madness of the suave, Mason and his crew.
So, thank you, Erle Stanley-Gardner, for those terrific characters and stories. Oh, let us not forget one of the best theme songs of all time.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Scandal in movie-land. What a shocker. That almost never happens in the land of fakery.
Brace yourselves, but Scarlett Johansson's cell phone was hacked and now nudie photos have been leaked all over the 'net.
I know, I know, you could simply cut and paste this drivel about every other young Hollywood girlie-girl. But, try to stay with me here as I'm talking about some real HOLLYWOOD classics.
Kids, I don't know 'bout you, but these celebu-twits wailing about being hacked (I am NOT condoning this, it is wrong) is getting (insert HUGE bored yawn) OLD. Leaked tapes, leaked photos, leaked voice mail messages...Hollywood celebs (term used loosely) are a MESS. But, this, um, sexy stuff is not only boring, these kids are clueless compared to the broads (said with respect and affection) of yester-year. They don't know the meaning of really being sexy.
Don't think so? Check out Joan Blondell above, and movies and studio-stills PRE-CODE (sorry, I am not explaining it to you, so look it up).
These dames (see above disclaimer) KNEW what sold and how to sell it. They had help, but they worked it and the public never knew what hit 'em, I suspect.
Slinky clothes, lounging in a sudsy tub, seductive make-up and enticing sets. True glamor.
They kept it mysterious and beautiful with just a dash of HOT!
Even Myrna Loy got saucy in water. No need to be hampered with the likes of a mutt named, Asta.
Take a peek at Joan Bennett, later known for more motherly roles. If that isn't innocently teasing, I'll eat a garage mechanic's shirt (hat-tip to Holiday Inn). Oh, just for good measure, I tossed in a little bit of the 60's, Kim Novak. She managed to capture the spirit of all things sexy-bath-scene in a modest sort of way.
All these over-indulged starlings, um, starlets today need to heed the ladies that truly paved the way for their naked asses. They should be forced to watch every pre-code movie and write an essay about how they learned something from true artists.
The ladies of the early 30's sold sex the proper way. Innocently. You know, pretending they had NO idea the image of them looking all seductive was anything but Hollywood art. Uh-huh. that's the way to do it, Scarlett and girls. Take notes and study them. Hard.
See ya 'round the beaches! Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Slinking around bargain stores will bring along the occasional true treasure. Oh, don't you doubt me, it is a fact and I can prove it. As a matter of fact, I have photographic proof right here on this random Monday blog.
It is not every day you nab Audrey Hepburn glasses. These priceless gems now rest within my domicile. And, not just any ordinary ones. Moon River come to mind? If you don't know that song, I pity your existence, but I will get over it. Do you have, Breakfast at Tiffany's, stemware (see how glam I am getting)?.
Go on and scoff at my jelly, um, Audrey glasses,, but I simply adore them, DARLING!
Remember, Cat? Cat, from the movie? I sometimes even hang out with a very similar feline.
Oh, yes. I'm no Audrey, but now I can sip with her and cat can purr and be thankful he's not being dumped into an alley in the rain.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks. Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us and/or Bainbridges PalmBeaches.
Hard to comprehend that it has been ten years since that day. September 11.
With the deepest of emotions, each year I remember it. All of that day and those following.
Ten years and it feels as though it were yesterday.
It is comforting to know others, not just Americans, understand the magnitude of that fateful day.
Our friend, British Brian, sends us his thoughts and it means a lot.
British Brian reminds us to check out the final evening of Proms. I plan to check it out and not just because I like the name of the event. I adore anything, BBC, plus I simply adore his spelling...flavor never so good as the British way.
Oh, Brian-Labor Day is a holiday where we do NOT work. How could that concept possibly be confusing (insert major sarcasm).
Please read on...
Contributed by: Brian Wilson United Kingdom All rights reserved and copyrighted.
Dear Pam - I have talked about the Proms and the last night is here - well it is on Saturday, September 10.
So, if anyone is interested look on the BBC site - they may well stream the concert -it is well worth it to get a flavour of the British love of music and our eccentricities.
But, many of you - and lots of us over here - will also have in mind the 10th anniversary of the 11th.
There has been so much in our press about the ill heath still being suffered by those caught up in the events - especially the clouds of dust and debris that covered such a wide area and was drawn in people's lungs.
Our 2 countries may have different accents - we may spell things in a different way - but, we have so much history and so much friendship that you can be assured of our remembrance of your "blackest day."
Whilst, in no way comparable in terms of numbers of dead, we have also suffered terrorist attacks - so we know what you are going through.
But, in both of our countries there are innumerable stories of people who helped others, offered assistance, put themselves in danger - or to put it another way - acted as kind human beings.
To change the subject - could you please tell me what "Labor Day" is all about?
Love to you all - Brian and Mo
Brian Wilson brian@europaassociates.co.uk
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Thanks, Brian.
Here's to Great Britain and th POMS.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
Fabulous designers and flop-ulous (made that up, but it fits so many idiots TRYING to thrust their hideous fashion messes upon us) non-designers, roll out all their must-haves for us to cast our unworthy and bloodshot eyes upon.
Although South Florida requires a certain type of fashion almost year-around, I get caught up in all the new styles every fall (or almost fall). I am flawed. Quite.
While I anxiously (not really) wait to see what I will need to find at discounted prices at TJMaxx NEXT fall, I ponder things from the past that are timeless (see Grace Kelly photo), but more importantly creations that never should have been. Not in a million years.
Topping the list?
CROCS!!
Heaven help our retched souls from those monstrosities. Never happened on my feet. Nope.
Uggs? I did do, but only because I lived in a cold-weather state at the time. So, toss me a little forgiveness.
Besides, there are far worse things than wearing UGGS, and I present photographic proof. .
Step out of that closet and let me know if you have fashion loathes and loves.
Until then, I'm off to TJ to grab a few fashion must-haves which were super-hot...at the last Fall Fashion Week.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches Facebook friend me, Indiscreetly Us or Bainbridges PalmBeaches
