(This is a librarianing post.)
How much of readers advisory services should be about bibliotherapy and how much is pure entertainment? How do you discern what a patron needs versus what a patron wants? If those two really are diametrically opposed, which do you go with? I know teen librarians tend to be all about the bibliotherapy (My life changed! Because of a book! The librarian gave me!), but does life really work that way?
The most dangerous question: Can one book really make that much of a difference, or are we all a sum of everything we read, view, and/or listen to?
Can you point to the parts of your personality or belief system that come directly from your favorite or most-read book? (Obviously, this question is a moot point if your favorite book has a major world religion behind it.)
I've been wondering all this for the last couple days, after someone on my trusty teen lit listserv asked for recommendations for a group of seventh grade girls looking for fiction about rape, abuse, incest, etc. Immediately, many of my fellow librarians went into bibliotherapist mode. Which is great, if that's indeed what these girls need. I can't argue with the idea that reading a story similar to your troubles could very well help you to at least begin to verbalize and heal from those problems.
But I also think I know a little something about middle school girls. I remember the kind of stories I was attracted to as a middle school girl. If you're a girl, think about what you read and watched in middle school. That's when soap operas first caught your eye, right? Did you have a friend surreptitiously pass you a copy of Forever, Go Ask Alice, or Flowers in the Attic? Did the "nonfictional" aspect of Go Ask Alice make a difference to you? Did you take a cursory glance over the new fiction before heading back to Sweet Valley High? Don't lie--that's when you started reading Anne Rice's books, isn't it?
My point is, middle school girls like trash. The trashier, more sensationalistic the trash, the better. It's something most of us go through. What harm are we doing by not acknowledging that guilty pleasures have their place as well? If you're shaking your head in disagreement with me, ask yourself this question: You have the day off, with nothing to do but sit in the world's comfiest armchair in front of a sunny window. You can read Noam Chomsky or V.C. Andrews. Which do you choose? Are you imposing a different choice on those younger than you, simply because you're older? Who do you think is the favorite aunt or uncle--the one who buys those paperback Nickelodeon tie-in picture books, or Patricia Polacco's latest adult-reader-oriented tearjerker?
Also, you'll pay attention to how I say begin to. There are many, many books I love and would recommend to a person in the same situation as the protagonist, or to someone looking for a genuinely well-written story, but that in no way can compare with counseling or other professional help. Sometimes, it's okay to say you're just a librarian, not a social worker. Or a doctor. Or a psychiatrist. Or a lawyer.
At its heart, readers advisory is about matching people with stories. To me, a huge part of that is finding out the motivation behind wanting a particular story. Rats Saw God fits the questions: I need 10 AR points; my son is suddenly flunking his senior year and screwing everything up; I'm a huge Veronica Mars fan; What have you got that's good to read? But is it necessarily the best answer to all of those questions for the person standing in front of you, or on IM, or through MySpace*?
And I kind of wonder if we're not doing a disservice to the not-trash by recommending, say, Leaving Fishers or Godless when what the patron is really looking for is some sensationalistic mass market paperback "about" "not Katie Holmes" being trapped in "not Scientology"?
Reading a book or watching a movie before you're emotionally and intellectually ready for it can ruin that book or movie for you. I think everyone has an example of something they thought sucked, but then went back and liked 5-10 years later. But what if no one went back?
Other random readers advisory anecdote:
The other week, one of my regulars came in and said he needed some stuff to get out of a reading funk. I had given him at least 5 books a couple days before (and when I say "given", what I mean is, "shoved at him and said, here--read this" and he did), but even the usual suspects weren't catching his interest. He's also slogging his way through a big thick classic for AP Senior English. So I headed into the juvenile fiction stacks. I asked how often he reread stuff, and explained that, when I'm stuck, or not feeling well, or cranky, I tend to go back and reread certain things. If I'm sick, for example, I want Mrs Grass's chicken soup and Narnia. So I gave him Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising (he hadn't read it) and sent him on his way. Reading slump solved.
We can all talk about reading up, or down, or comfort level, or finding reflections of our lives in fictional work and the importance of that, but sometimes it's really as simple as What fits the best in this particular situation?
*Bringing up another question: Should you consider a person's MySpace page before recommending a book? If a girl's page was all faux-Girls-Gone-Wild and she asked you what was new and good, would it all be serious works about girls with bad reputations? Don't you think she'd get the hint, and do you think that would damage your credibility in her eyes?
Can you tell someone they should read Sandpiper (which, incidentally, I love and you should all read) without the underlying sentiment of, "this is book about a slutty girl who realizes maybe it's not such a great idea to be so easy. Hey, maybe you could learn something from it, if you catch my drift"?
And speaking of, when the hell is Sara Zarr's Story of a Girl coming out? I'd let you borrow my galley copy, but I might have to break some legs if I don't get it back.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Here's a truck stop instead of Saint Peter's.
Feed, if you aren’t a teen librarian, is a book about a group of teens, in The Future, and how vapid their Future lives are.
Well, actually, it’s a book about how smart M.T. Anderson is, and how, by extension, his fans are smarter than your average teenager (or adult, if you’re a YA librarian). I found the entire book to be condescending as hell; the worst, though, was the author bio, where Anderson claimed to get the idea for the language and dialogue in the book from overhearing conversations at malls.
Well, of course it’s going to seem like language and discourse are dead arts and people are becoming worse and worse at communication and vocabularies are shrinking if your “research” consists of listening to people while they shop. Imagine if he had been at a grocery store instead—every character would be obsessed with the firmness of their salad, the weird liquid around their meat. Seriously: think about the last time you were shopping for clothes. Were you having an intelligent, thought-provoking conversation about the world around you, life, love, etc., or were you insulting your friend by calling her Nina Garcia while trying to decide if light grey patent leather open-toe shoes are too old lady?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. They were cute shoes, though. Too bad they didn’t fit me right.
Anyway, the main character and his friends go to the moon and it sucks. (That, incidentally, is a paraphrase of the book’s first line. It’s a great line; book totally goes downhill from there.) It sucks because some jerks come and hack into their feeds, which are these computer things wired into everyone’s brain in The Future. Because that way everyone can know stuff without having to learn it is the theory, I guess. In practice, it’s so a thinly-veiled Abercrombie can make you want to buy stuff…in your brain! You can also watch tv in your brain and chat with your friends in your brain. But not in like a telekinesis, know each others thoughts kind of way. In an AIM is in your brain kind of way. I don’t know; I don’t understand the “science” behind all this, and I’m not sure MT does either.
Oh, and you also get advertised to in your dreams. Which, I would think, would make people’s lives easier, or at least more straight-forward. Like, if I go home tonight and dream about having split ends, I’m going to think it’s weird and confusing and wonder what my brain was trying to tell me. But if I was in Feed, I’d know it was just Loreal doing its job.
While our intrepid stupid teens are in the hospital, they meet a poor ickle sick girl, who is sick because her Future Luddite parents didn’t install her feed until puberty, or something. Because they wanted her to read books. Or something. Too late, in any case, for it to really mesh well. And I think they might be poor (so noble! Any minute now, she’ll be dancing on the tables in steerage with Leo!), so she’s got a crap model.
Of course, main character/narrator (remember, folks—it’s not YA if it’s not first person!) falls in love with ickle sick smart poor girl, because she’s pure and smart and thinks about things like the implications of having a computer wired into your brain and pollution and stuff. If they had a school dance, she’d totally paint a poster of the Earth that said, “Don’t tread on me.” And then vampires would come because they had to invite everyone.
But they don’t have a school dance, because she dies. (Plus, I think she might be home schooled or something. You know, by her Future Luddite/hippie parents.) And everyone learns a lesson. And every year after that, they celebrate Stargirl’s contribution to their lives.
Sorry, wrong hackneyed, “Let’s all learn something from the nice noncomformist because we’re stupid sheep” YA novel.
See, this is what really gets my goat about this book. It’s not just the condescension; it’s the feeding into the, let’s face it, natural condescension of your average smart teenager. Books like these buy into the idea that smarter = better, and that those who don’t feel comfortable doing what most of society does are somehow better, smarter, and have something to teach everyone else. Not only do I think that’s a pretty crap version of humanity, but people like that are fucking insufferable. It’s like if all the Smurfs suddenly deferred to Brainy. Or if everyone agreed with my assessment of this book because I’ve got an MLS.
I think, secretly, a lot of librarians like this book because they were teens who thought they were better and smarter then their peers. And, yeah, I did too, but then I made smart friends. And grew out of that shit.
Oh, and there are filet mignon bushes, which sounds kind of awesome to me. I’d totally be Homering it up, like in the episode where the Germans talk about coming from the land of chocolate and Homer fantasizes taking a giant bite out of a dog.
And the requisite flying cars.
Well, actually, it’s a book about how smart M.T. Anderson is, and how, by extension, his fans are smarter than your average teenager (or adult, if you’re a YA librarian). I found the entire book to be condescending as hell; the worst, though, was the author bio, where Anderson claimed to get the idea for the language and dialogue in the book from overhearing conversations at malls.
Well, of course it’s going to seem like language and discourse are dead arts and people are becoming worse and worse at communication and vocabularies are shrinking if your “research” consists of listening to people while they shop. Imagine if he had been at a grocery store instead—every character would be obsessed with the firmness of their salad, the weird liquid around their meat. Seriously: think about the last time you were shopping for clothes. Were you having an intelligent, thought-provoking conversation about the world around you, life, love, etc., or were you insulting your friend by calling her Nina Garcia while trying to decide if light grey patent leather open-toe shoes are too old lady?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. They were cute shoes, though. Too bad they didn’t fit me right.
Anyway, the main character and his friends go to the moon and it sucks. (That, incidentally, is a paraphrase of the book’s first line. It’s a great line; book totally goes downhill from there.) It sucks because some jerks come and hack into their feeds, which are these computer things wired into everyone’s brain in The Future. Because that way everyone can know stuff without having to learn it is the theory, I guess. In practice, it’s so a thinly-veiled Abercrombie can make you want to buy stuff…in your brain! You can also watch tv in your brain and chat with your friends in your brain. But not in like a telekinesis, know each others thoughts kind of way. In an AIM is in your brain kind of way. I don’t know; I don’t understand the “science” behind all this, and I’m not sure MT does either.
Oh, and you also get advertised to in your dreams. Which, I would think, would make people’s lives easier, or at least more straight-forward. Like, if I go home tonight and dream about having split ends, I’m going to think it’s weird and confusing and wonder what my brain was trying to tell me. But if I was in Feed, I’d know it was just Loreal doing its job.
While our intrepid stupid teens are in the hospital, they meet a poor ickle sick girl, who is sick because her Future Luddite parents didn’t install her feed until puberty, or something. Because they wanted her to read books. Or something. Too late, in any case, for it to really mesh well. And I think they might be poor (so noble! Any minute now, she’ll be dancing on the tables in steerage with Leo!), so she’s got a crap model.
Of course, main character/narrator (remember, folks—it’s not YA if it’s not first person!) falls in love with ickle sick smart poor girl, because she’s pure and smart and thinks about things like the implications of having a computer wired into your brain and pollution and stuff. If they had a school dance, she’d totally paint a poster of the Earth that said, “Don’t tread on me.” And then vampires would come because they had to invite everyone.
But they don’t have a school dance, because she dies. (Plus, I think she might be home schooled or something. You know, by her Future Luddite/hippie parents.) And everyone learns a lesson. And every year after that, they celebrate Stargirl’s contribution to their lives.
Sorry, wrong hackneyed, “Let’s all learn something from the nice noncomformist because we’re stupid sheep” YA novel.
See, this is what really gets my goat about this book. It’s not just the condescension; it’s the feeding into the, let’s face it, natural condescension of your average smart teenager. Books like these buy into the idea that smarter = better, and that those who don’t feel comfortable doing what most of society does are somehow better, smarter, and have something to teach everyone else. Not only do I think that’s a pretty crap version of humanity, but people like that are fucking insufferable. It’s like if all the Smurfs suddenly deferred to Brainy. Or if everyone agreed with my assessment of this book because I’ve got an MLS.
I think, secretly, a lot of librarians like this book because they were teens who thought they were better and smarter then their peers. And, yeah, I did too, but then I made smart friends. And grew out of that shit.
Oh, and there are filet mignon bushes, which sounds kind of awesome to me. I’d totally be Homering it up, like in the episode where the Germans talk about coming from the land of chocolate and Homer fantasizes taking a giant bite out of a dog.
And the requisite flying cars.
Monday, September 18, 2006
having an Angela Chase moment...
Personal blog of a young adult librarian in Indiana. Read about the quirks of life inside and outside the library.Own up, people. Who wrote this?
Me and my goddam quirky life.
***
That's the description of PoBaL over at Yahoo Librarian Weblogs. Which, I should add, my stats never show anyone coming from. Can you blame them? I mean, I know I'm not all that consistently entertaining, but I'm certainly better than that assy write-up.
Can I blame sunspots for this, too?
Monday, September 11, 2006
More than a feeling.
Billboard September 2
- The advertisement cover is for the VMAs, which I didn't watch this year.
- I think my parents were actually here then.
- So, I saw Hollywoodland last night, and I'm ready to start making some Oscar predictions.
- Diane Lane will be nominated, because Diane Lane is nominated for an Oscar any time she leaves her house.
- Affleck may be nominated, too. Depends on how they split the Leo DiCaprio/Marky Mark lead/supporting actor for Scorsese's new movie.
- The Academy really likes to snub Marty, but they seem to want to have DiCaprio's children, so it's a tough call on nominations.
- Won't win, though.
- Depending on how the midterm election goes and what the cultural climate is this January, I think this is Forest Whitacker's year for an Oscar, for playing Idi Amin.
- Well, we'll see. My predictions are usually the more spot-on the closer I make them to the winner's announcement, as anyone who slogged through all my Oscar blogging last time can attest to.
- I can't decide, but I think I like that new Killers single.
- "When You Were Young"
- It's a weird mess of things and influences, and I like that.
- Weird messes, that is.
- God, Jet sucks.
- They're just boring.
- Oh, I love the part in the Killers song about the Devil's water.
- Ridiculous!
- (I'm listening to the song right now, in case you were wondering why I keep bringing it up.)
- Hey! The Blue Man Group!
- ha
- I took the third season of Arrested Development home this weekend and now I'm sad because there's no more new Arrested Development for me to watch.
- There's a new Primal Scream record?
- I know it's ridiculous, but I really love Hot Fuss. It's such a fun record.
- Ever notice how MTV celebrates every damn birthday it can? I mean, it just doesn't seem like that long ago when I sat through all their 20th birthday crap.
- Plus, this is the 25the for the channel; you know in a couple years we'll be dealing with the 25th anniversary of the VMAs.
- No one toots their own horn like MTV...
- Dear god, they've published a picture of that stupid Britney Spears/Madonna kiss.
- If I really wanted to see bad fake lesbianing designed to make the boys hot, I'd still be going to Saturday night 80s night.
- The singers/frontspeople for Keane and the Darkness are both in rehab.
- There's a really interesting super-group in there somewhere.
- Right now I'm listening to the Cold War Kids. It's pretty okay so far.
- Michel Gondry's going to be directing a Beck video.
- I miss old, scruffy, cohosting 120 Minutes with Thurston, setting his acoustic on fire in someone's backyard Beck.
- He's allowed to grow and change, but I'm allowed to prefer One Foot in the Grave.
- Even though I really secretly can't stand the local bar here, I have to love that "Satan Gave Me a Taco" is on their jukebox.
- Ricky Martin's doing an Unplugged.
- I didn't know that show was still even in existence.
- It's like the elusive Elvis Costello Storytellers, which I used to see commercials for all the damn time but I never actually got to see.
- 6 question is with Trey Anastasio.
- urk
- Hellogoodbye sound like something I would hear on WPTS while I was driving to drop off my Stanley Kubrick final paper.
- Which is kind of pretty awesome, if you're into that kind of hard-core nostalgia for 6-7 years ago.
- "This American Life" is going to have a show on Showtime next year.
- Must. Make. Friends. With. People. Who. Have. Showtime.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
He likes girls with names like Ashley.
At some point, YM collected the “best” of their “Say Anything” column.*
Of course I bought the book for my library! Yeesh, how could you think otherwise!?
Occasionally, I copy things out of books and tape them to the heater in my meager YA area. Display space is tight ‘round these parts, and I like the extra book-pushing this gives me. I figured I’d take some choice embarrassing bits from the book.
Um, what does it say about me that the choicest bits, the ones I keep laughing at, out loud, by myself in my office** are about farting?
Or losing control of your bladder while under a pile-up of friends, with your crush directly on top of you?
You know what’s weird, though? One of the chapters delves deep into the history of “Say Anything” for old embarrassing moments. In every single one of them the phrase “my face was red” or “was my face red” is used. Whether from 1967, 1987, or 1991.
But then, I’ve always suspected that these things were made up by the writers, designed to make spazzy teen girls feel better about their freakouts and/or less-than-confident teen girls feel better about themselves when they think, Hey, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by that. It’s similar to the women’s magazine phenomenon, which I’ve decided is not that women’s magazine readers are especially stupid because they don’t know the nipples are an erogenous zone. It’s that these magazines think their readers are so lacking in self-assurance that, upon reading sex “tips”, they think, Hey, I’m not that bad—I knew that.
*For the boys: “Say Anything” was a column of embarrassing stories. I changed out of my sweater and my tshirt came with it, flashing the whole school; I got my period unexpectedly during a ride in a hot boy’s white-interiored car; my date was all, what’s your dog chewing on, and it was a used tampon; my boobs fell out of my swimsuit; etc.
**Although, if I wasn’t by myself, I’d have to explain it to my officemate, so that’s probably a blessing. “Uh, I’m laughing at fart and period jokes, OfficeMate. Yes, I am 27.”
Of course I bought the book for my library! Yeesh, how could you think otherwise!?
Occasionally, I copy things out of books and tape them to the heater in my meager YA area. Display space is tight ‘round these parts, and I like the extra book-pushing this gives me. I figured I’d take some choice embarrassing bits from the book.
Um, what does it say about me that the choicest bits, the ones I keep laughing at, out loud, by myself in my office** are about farting?
Or losing control of your bladder while under a pile-up of friends, with your crush directly on top of you?
You know what’s weird, though? One of the chapters delves deep into the history of “Say Anything” for old embarrassing moments. In every single one of them the phrase “my face was red” or “was my face red” is used. Whether from 1967, 1987, or 1991.
But then, I’ve always suspected that these things were made up by the writers, designed to make spazzy teen girls feel better about their freakouts and/or less-than-confident teen girls feel better about themselves when they think, Hey, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by that. It’s similar to the women’s magazine phenomenon, which I’ve decided is not that women’s magazine readers are especially stupid because they don’t know the nipples are an erogenous zone. It’s that these magazines think their readers are so lacking in self-assurance that, upon reading sex “tips”, they think, Hey, I’m not that bad—I knew that.
*For the boys: “Say Anything” was a column of embarrassing stories. I changed out of my sweater and my tshirt came with it, flashing the whole school; I got my period unexpectedly during a ride in a hot boy’s white-interiored car; my date was all, what’s your dog chewing on, and it was a used tampon; my boobs fell out of my swimsuit; etc.
**Although, if I wasn’t by myself, I’d have to explain it to my officemate, so that’s probably a blessing. “Uh, I’m laughing at fart and period jokes, OfficeMate. Yes, I am 27.”
It's not the way they put folks on the moon.
(Man, when my blogging block goes away, it really goes away.)
Um, this is one of those posts about knitting. Just a warning.
After I got all this awesome stuff from my partner in the Friends of Craftster 3 Swap (see fig. A-E), it was time to make her a thank-you. She had wisted the Knitty Nagano sakura scarf.
(I'm the stoic "model" in that picture, in case you were wondering.)
This was a pretty quick and very fun pattern. I used Pattons wool, double stranded, in Taupe, since none of my local yarn stores seem to carry much Lamb's Pride, bulky or otherwise. For the flowers, I used a double-strand of a bunch of embroidery floss I had around on #3 needles.
(Side note: I heart my 3s. They're bamboo. Unfortunately, my cats heart them as well. If I'm stupid and don't lock them [the needles, not the cats] away, there's a good chance I'll come home to find a needle in the kitchen and another in the hallway. They seem to like chewing on the non-pointy ends.)
Things I learned while making these: i-cord (on a circular), picot cast-on. I didn't felt it because: I've never felted before and didn't want anything bad to happen; my apartment doesn't have a washer; and I liked the way it looked, non-felted. So there!
Fig. A: package 1
Fig. B: Package 2
Fig. C: package 3/birthday package
Fig. D: package 3.5
Fig. E: package 4 (+ a prom glass, a Keith Haring postcard {there was an exhibit b/c he's from Reading, did you know that?}, a pretty owl notecard, and some dinosaur and sea creature sponge capsules)
Um, this is one of those posts about knitting. Just a warning.
After I got all this awesome stuff from my partner in the Friends of Craftster 3 Swap (see fig. A-E), it was time to make her a thank-you. She had wisted the Knitty Nagano sakura scarf.
(I'm the stoic "model" in that picture, in case you were wondering.)
This was a pretty quick and very fun pattern. I used Pattons wool, double stranded, in Taupe, since none of my local yarn stores seem to carry much Lamb's Pride, bulky or otherwise. For the flowers, I used a double-strand of a bunch of embroidery floss I had around on #3 needles.
(Side note: I heart my 3s. They're bamboo. Unfortunately, my cats heart them as well. If I'm stupid and don't lock them [the needles, not the cats] away, there's a good chance I'll come home to find a needle in the kitchen and another in the hallway. They seem to like chewing on the non-pointy ends.)
Things I learned while making these: i-cord (on a circular), picot cast-on. I didn't felt it because: I've never felted before and didn't want anything bad to happen; my apartment doesn't have a washer; and I liked the way it looked, non-felted. So there!
Fig. A: package 1
Fig. B: Package 2
Fig. C: package 3/birthday package
Fig. D: package 3.5
Fig. E: package 4 (+ a prom glass, a Keith Haring postcard {there was an exhibit b/c he's from Reading, did you know that?}, a pretty owl notecard, and some dinosaur and sea creature sponge capsules)
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
And honesty’s the ship that sank this song.
I still associate fall with new clothes. And not just new clothes, but a new look. At a certain point in high school, school clothes for me became less about whether I would have the "right" things and more about what would be fun to wear.
In the late fall, there would be days I would opt to not take a coat, thinking I would walk fast enough to be warm in the morning and the sun would warm things up enough to walk home comfortably. Or, failing that, the walk up my GIANT hill could end in a nice warm cup of tea. Some of those days, however, it would be too cold for even that, and I would take my lunch money over to the thrift store. That's how I got my first vaguely-adult-sized sweatshirt jacket*--I walked out of my school, thought to myself, I'm going to go find a black zip-up hoodie, walked to the thrift store, and found one.
Right now, I have 3 sweatshirt jackets: the black, sort of quilted (it's subtle, I swear) one I got on clearance at the Gap; the boy's navy hoodie I cut the cuffs out of, making it elbow length, that I have a cameo pig pin on; and a light blue one with hearts on the lining I thrifted last year. That last one fits sort of weird, so it's purely functional.
Most falls, I rethink the way I dress. Sometimes it's when I find myself noticing the same types of clothes over and over again. Sometimes it's a reaction to, or a change from what I had been wearing before. Sometimes it's just if I'm feeling contrary.
This fall? This fall is all about the short skirts. And black tights, but every fall I wear skirts is about the black tights for me.
And heels. You know how everyone thinks short girls should avoid the short skirt/heels combo? I'm bringing it back.
I'm also declaring the following color combinations acceptable, because I like the way they look: black/brown, black/navy, and red/pink.
And, as always, lots of scarves. Look for the return of the Target $1 section child's skeleton hand gloves, working in tandem with these in black. I've been working on a chunky short sleeved sweater in bright blue yarn I bought in New Orleans (this is taking awhile because I'm trying to make something up, not just following a pattern). My next project is Teva Durham's Lace Leaf Pullover, in a dark teal (see Fig. A). And I really want to make MagKnits' Sesame in navy and white, with anchor buttons, but I'm having trouble finding the buttons in the right size. Oh, and the Gap has this chunky fair isle cropped cardigan, but I bet I can make a cuter version (ie not cropped, and maybe elbow length, which I'm loving right now over longsleeve shirts) using Stitch'n'Bitch's Fairly Easy Fair Isle as a starting point.
*There's an adorable picture of 3yrold Jessy walking down a Regent Square street in a sweatshirt jacket and cuffed jeans.
Figure A
In the late fall, there would be days I would opt to not take a coat, thinking I would walk fast enough to be warm in the morning and the sun would warm things up enough to walk home comfortably. Or, failing that, the walk up my GIANT hill could end in a nice warm cup of tea. Some of those days, however, it would be too cold for even that, and I would take my lunch money over to the thrift store. That's how I got my first vaguely-adult-sized sweatshirt jacket*--I walked out of my school, thought to myself, I'm going to go find a black zip-up hoodie, walked to the thrift store, and found one.
Right now, I have 3 sweatshirt jackets: the black, sort of quilted (it's subtle, I swear) one I got on clearance at the Gap; the boy's navy hoodie I cut the cuffs out of, making it elbow length, that I have a cameo pig pin on; and a light blue one with hearts on the lining I thrifted last year. That last one fits sort of weird, so it's purely functional.
Most falls, I rethink the way I dress. Sometimes it's when I find myself noticing the same types of clothes over and over again. Sometimes it's a reaction to, or a change from what I had been wearing before. Sometimes it's just if I'm feeling contrary.
This fall? This fall is all about the short skirts. And black tights, but every fall I wear skirts is about the black tights for me.
And heels. You know how everyone thinks short girls should avoid the short skirt/heels combo? I'm bringing it back.
I'm also declaring the following color combinations acceptable, because I like the way they look: black/brown, black/navy, and red/pink.
And, as always, lots of scarves. Look for the return of the Target $1 section child's skeleton hand gloves, working in tandem with these in black. I've been working on a chunky short sleeved sweater in bright blue yarn I bought in New Orleans (this is taking awhile because I'm trying to make something up, not just following a pattern). My next project is Teva Durham's Lace Leaf Pullover, in a dark teal (see Fig. A). And I really want to make MagKnits' Sesame in navy and white, with anchor buttons, but I'm having trouble finding the buttons in the right size. Oh, and the Gap has this chunky fair isle cropped cardigan, but I bet I can make a cuter version (ie not cropped, and maybe elbow length, which I'm loving right now over longsleeve shirts) using Stitch'n'Bitch's Fairly Easy Fair Isle as a starting point.
*There's an adorable picture of 3yrold Jessy walking down a Regent Square street in a sweatshirt jacket and cuffed jeans.
Figure A
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