Last Tuesday's virtual retail therapy was a smashing success. (I even got letters telling me what a wonderful, life-changing experience it was to read about all the cool things out there that only I, as a single lady with more than a few spare hours, have the leisure time to explore. Full disclosure: It was one letter. From my mom.)
However, I have nonetheless decided to make the roundup a regular feature. Think of it as my gift to a struggling economy.
YOU'RE WELCOME, Henry Paulson.
With everything so dire and alarmist these days, I think it'd help to wake up to this.
It is a well known fact that pants are universally funny. Perhaps the world would be a kinder, gentler place if more of our foodstuffs had trousers on.
With the stock market riding a carousel, maybe it's time we all put our vast wealth into precious metals. Gold seems like a safe bet. It's heavy, but also stackable, which means it would fit well in that end-of-the-world bunker you're building. Plus in the right place, like here, it's so very very pretty.
I'm not sure why they come in a set of five, but odd numbers appeal to me, so I'll take it. I see one of these with a slice of chocolate ganache cake garnished with an African violet. Or, you know, something less specific.
I do like items with an outrageously specific purpose, though. I try not to own too many of them, because multitasking tools are efficient and space-saving, but the indulgence is so tempting. Who wouldn't want some of these?
Granted, I'd probably curse anyone who attempted to make me use them at a party, because I'd be destined to tilt the tiny plates and send caviar plopping to the floor or into my fizzy Champagne (on second though, yum). Still, any object turned into jewelry is a good thing.
Need something manlier? I love grilling accessories, even though my Weber is naught more than a rain gauge. This just seems like an idea that was a long time coming.
By the way, how sexist was that? Meh, it's Tuesday. I'll be back in fine feminist fettle before you know it.
Or maybe I'll just be the wilting housewife, sighing by the fireplace and sewing. If I were, I'd use this.
That cadet-blue-meets-rusty-orange color combination is one of my favorites. I think it'd make perfect place mats on the Woodside, but I'll have to ruminate on that idea. I suspect it would require me to eat from something other than a reclined position.
Chowing down frozen foods on the sofa does not make for a tidy proposition. So I think I can justify snagging some of these.
I love the soft, farmhouse styling, but I mostly want to replace the older-than-I-am Charlie Brown (no, seriously) hand-me-down dish towels from my parents. The printed characters have faded into almost unrecognizability, and the fabric has the general tattered aspect of having become the plaything of a many an aggressive washing machine. Yes, I occasionally do laundry. I'm not a pig.
Know what is a pig? This.
HILARIOUS. You put it over your sauté pan or simmering soup pot so that everything cooks evenly, and the steam comes out of its nose. Steam. Out of its NOSE.
Not really. I'm thinking 4-year-olds can't buy booze. And I have a couple of terrific hooch-related ideas. One makes me think immediately of the Js.
If my father were a white-wine drinker, this would be his birthday or Christmas present, no question. I know it's not exactly a new idea, but it's such a smart solution for a common problem (keeping the white cold) without the unwieldiness of the ice bucket. And it's handsome, to boot.
I'm going to steal this handsome idea from lovely blogger Joanna Goddard: the 1930s party.
I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to pull off the easygoing style, but celebrating "the (new) Depression" strikes me as terribly clever. And American.
But if all else fails, I'm just going to have to keep freelancing my ass off. (That came out "freelancing my sass off," which: HORRORS!) So I'll be needing these.
Bonus feature: They'll make me look smarter than I actually am. Downsides: I can't afford them. And I have no business contacts.
Luckily I also have no qualms about handing out my contact information to strangers. ESPECIALLY if they're wearing pants.