Ghost Riders in the Sky

I was shopping today at BJ's- not THAT kind of bj, pervs. Why would anyone shop for that kind of bj anyway?! I'm talking about one of those wholesale warehouse places where nothing is ever really a bargain and is usually crammed with Mormon types buying a year's supply of toilet paper and whole wheat bread for their 27 kids or rich yuppie couples (are they even called yuppies anymore?) loading cases of Diet Coke into their Escalade. And I am neither a Mormon type nor an Escalade type. I go because they hand out free samples on the weekends. FREE SAMPLES. I'm the free food type.

So while wondering if I really needed the "bigger bargain pack" of country style ribs (of course I did), I overheard (eavesdropping, really) some women talking about the travesties of the Indians (yeah, yeah I know, Native Americans...but that's too long to type. So POLITICAL CORRECTNESS BE DAMNED, I'm typing the shortest word possible) in this area. Say WHA?! Stupid makes my guts boil. People who talk about something like they know what really went down when they DON'T KNOW JACK makes the creature that lives in my guts want to burst out of my stomach a la Alien, slap the Ignorant Broads with a glove and challenge them to a duel. So I butted in and politely corrected them that the Indians weren't actually brutally slain here, but merely given the boot as a result of the French and Indian war and were pushed out of PA and down into the south. I was all UP their faces with knowledge. And if School House Rock has taught me anything (which it hasn't) it's that KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. You best not step to me OR my Guts Creature,or we will open a can of History 101 on yo' ass.

Mensa-like smarts and stunning good looks aside, I do wish I was a bit craftier and less impatienter. Oh this girl IS crafty like ice is cold but not so much in the glue gun and puffy paint way. These vintage 50's Cowboys and Indians cards from Brookerpie would make some kind of cool project that I haven't thought of yet, perhaps involving shellac and a coffee table.



More artsy fartsy fodder is this vintage 60's Indian symbol postcard from Alpenhimmel


Because you *just never know* when you'll need to know Indian symbols. In fact from now on, instead of signing my name as Kim, I'm just going to write the symbol for Gila Monster.

Jump Back, Honey, Jump Back

Just a quickie (I said quickie) to brag- nay- spread my greatness upon the world (that sounds filthy). My vintage-selling GENIUS of a friend and partner of evil-doing (not so much, but it makes us sound tough) Ang of Dorothea's Closet Vintage and I wrote a little blog for the Vintage Fashion Guild. It got discovered and published on a little website called Today's Vintage about rockabilly/ 50's fashion and will also be in print, in real magazine form. To be fair, she wrote a fat chunk of it but I added a paragraph or 2 and Fast Eddie's Retro Rags is credited at the bottom, so I have every right to brag about my street cred, no? Mind blowing? Yes! Flattering? Duh! Impressive? You tell me! But you can send hate mail to Ang.




Consider yourself SERVED.

Die Die My Darling

I'm pretty sure one of this season's must-have fashion staples for spring is an Edwardian bodily fluid-stained apron. I read that in Lucky Magazine and if Lucky says it's a trend, then BY GOD it is and you BETTER RECOGNISE. Paris has been seen wearing one emblazoned with "Meat is Hot" (nuts to you Morrissey! I still think you're awful purdy though) in glitter graphics across the ass. Girl KNOWS her body fluids. Lindsy wears hers over leggings which is SO last year- everybody knows Edwardian aprons are to be worn with skinny fit denim, not leggings. DUH.

Now that Sweeney Todd will be on DVD in a few, I highly suggest renting it for ideas on how to properly accessorize the Edwardian Apron, since Lucky skipped that part (thanks for not telling us how to accessorize, LUCKY). Meat cleaver? Yes! With pantaloons? WORK IT! With a freakishly pale and fashionably crazier-than-Bjork muse on the side, making you look less pale and less crazy? Totally! Can Johhny Depp be considered an accessory? He goes with everything! But I think Claire's is sold out.



You too can get your meat-grinding hands on your very own Edwardian Blood-Stained Apron. (Note to self: must use "meat-grinding hands" as a filthy/awesome punchline in a future post, somehow tied in with George Clooney, myself and Cancun). Lucky for you, The Vintage Peddler has one right now. And while I normally don't (yes I do) get sucked into reading the "Weird and Really Bizarre" ebay listings like Jebus Toast and Ghost-In-A-Jar and Haunted Underwear, the Peddler KNOWS her possessed vintage. So it may not be possessed, I just find it way more entertaining to say it is. So it is.


God, That's Good!

(Note to self: must use "haunted underwear" as a *really* filthy/awesome punchline in a future post, somehow tied in with Young Elvis, myself and a Cadillac. There may be peanut butter involved, I don't know.)

Lola (L-o-l-a, Lola)

Once upon a time, in a land called "The 80's", Three Wise Men heralded upon the masses: "Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man." And lo, we were. But is every man crazy 'bout a sharp dressed woman? And do real men wear pink? And are loafers without socks acceptable with a white linen suit? If Crockett and Tubbs go for it, it's good enough for me. All men love a chick in men's clothing. I think the most popular "dancer" at Reverend Ted Haggard's House of Ass-solution wears a pinstriped fedora and tie and comes onstage (not like THAT, pervs) carrying a briefcase. See? Ted Haggard knows a thing or 2 about a thing or 2.

Manly clothing on women has always been hot and I think most men think it's ridiculously hot. Pants?... On a GIRL, you say?! A female?... In the boardroom?! Wearing a SUIT? Why that's just crazy enough to work. Power and status, always good times in my book, not that I've ever had either. But add some femininity and a power suit to make Sigourney Weaver cry and you have pure tnt.

But not in the 80's-Working-Girl-Aqua-Net-Hall-and-Oates-in-the-Beemer-Working-for-the-Weekend-Drinking-Bartles-and-James-while-Jazzercising kind of way. Though that way is sounding awesome and something I feel is my life's mission to go out and do. Minus the Jazzercise. I'm talking women's clothing with a manly edge that says "I'm somebody. Out of the way or bitches get CUT".


"Don't hate me because I wear Reeboks and power walk to my Very Important Phone-Answering Job in The Big City."

Here's a fab vintage 50's Ben Zuckerman pinstriped suit from Susan of North Star Vintage. You KNOW the woman who wore this suit has cut some bitches in her day to get to the top. Now you can too! Joan Crawford approves this message.


Fedora and briefcase sold separately.

And in case you're the sewing type, this not-too-sexual-yet-pants-can-be-sexy vintage 40's pattern from Julie of Sew-Retro Vintage Patterns will do nicely. The gals on the cover KNOW who wears the pants.



Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.

Chick-A-Boom

Just a quick "Happy Easter, Y'all" (that's right I said y'all and am not even southern, what?) before I hit the trail for Hamland.

Did you know that Marshmallow Peeps are made not too far from where I live here in PA and were invented in 1953? Did you know that you can take a tour of the Just Born factory (the company that also makes Mike and Ikes, created in 1940) and get a free Peep at the end? Pennsylvania REPRESENT.

In honor of the day, here are the reasons why Marshmallow Peeps kick Easter's ass.

1.) Peeps will storm the beaches of Normandy for you.


2.) Peeps never fall to the Dark Side.


3.) Peeps will party like it's it's your birthday. (And drink Bacardi. Like it's your birthday.)


4.) Peeps are your own. Personal. Jesus.