Tiptoe Through The Tulips

I'm gonna get down and dirty with the gardening talk here for a moment, so if you're easily bored or just don't give a crap about nature (which I totally understand where you're coming from- I don't give a rat's ass about the outdoors either, only when it comes to my garden). I certainly am not super gardener of the year, I am no expert, but it just makes me happy. (No worries though, I won't bore you to tears with a million pictures of my flowers all summer long, because let's face it, just about everyone gardens to some degree and who the hell cares about other people's stupid flowers anyway? Believe me, no one is fascinated by your petunias. Or mine. But if you're a professional gardener who writes gardening blogs to people who care what you have to say about begonias and lasagna beds, then that's different.) So if the excitement of a newly-sprouted bulb doesn't interest you today, then you might wanna just ignore today's post. Just don't even look in this general direction.

On a totally unrelated note to anything that has to do with anything here, I was walking past my front garden this morning when out of the corner of my eyebulb, I notice a new development...



Do you witness the wee little caladium? (Pay no mind to the weeding that's been ignored and the mulch that need replacing. I know, I know. It looks all sorts of jacked and it makes me batty to see it this way and I must get to that this week, if people stopped being so damn needy of my time, what with the needing to be fed and taken to school and all. GOSH.)



It's wee-ness is so cute I could barf. It wasn't there yesterday and then this morning, why hello Dolly, there it was, after I was just about ready to abandon all hope ye who enter here and assume the bulbs weren't going to grow. Mama's so proud. *single tear*, but I hope this bastard bulb isn't an only child and the other 17 I planted grow. Jerks.




On a similar note, this disgusting sprout is new too. It's like an ugly, uncurling little wiener. (ICK. And also, *blaarrf*.) Do I know what it is? Well of course not. I planted so much crap this year, I can't even remember half of it. I can't wait to see what the hell this furry, ugly thing turns into! (If it's a penis plant, there's gonna be trouble.)



"Tiptoe Through The Tulips" by Tiny Tim.

Walking On Sunshine

"Sure, my husband works late, comes home drunk smelling like cheap gin and his secretary, sends my best friend Judy a check every month for some reason (who happens to have a son who looks curiously just like him, though her own husband was away in the war for 4 years so figure that out), makes me put a bag over my head and cries after sex, we can't have children and our poodle ran away but by god I have my towels! My beautiful, perfectly folded at right angles, color-coded towels! They're always here for me, they love me unconventionally and are absorbent when I cry myself to sleep at night! DON'T LOOK AT MY TOWELS! They're mine, do you hear me? MINE! I love you, towels, and no one will ever take you away from me...But I love you more, Valium."



"Walking On Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves.

Rock Around the Clock

I don't normally post very often over weekends, what with my incredibly amazing social calendar of arranging my garden gnomes, knitting scarves for my glass unicorns and drinking alone on my porch while adding my newest scratch-and-sniff stickers to the album (jealous?), but I wanted to share this before I forgot to tell you or passed out. (I'm kidding, people! GOSH. Like I would forget to tell you.)

Because I love vintage 50's pulp fiction paperbacks and I know you nerds like them too, you might dig this cardinal edition paperback of The Blackboard Jungle I found on Etsy, original, from 1955! Oh, those nutty juvenile delinquents with their devil's music and tight slacks.




Now if you'll excuse me, this pitcher of margaritas won't drink itself.

My (Aqua) Blue Heaven Fridays!

Welcome to the second edition (installment? part? episode? what is it?! what do I call you, weekly feature?!) of aqua-hued vintage on Fridays! I'm calling it "My (Aqua) Blue Heaven". Clever, no? Yeah, I know it's not. It took me all of 3.5 minutes to think of it and you guys gotta admit, it's better than my suggestions from last week, so suck it up and love it. LOVE IT SO HARD. Or at least, agree it doesn't suck as much as it could. (That's what he said. Shut up, it is too still funny!)

So the weather has been cold and crappy and grey and rainy and all around unpleasant and not at all June-like all this week. So naturally a jerk-y ol' Scorpio like myself loves it. But get this: apparently most of the population of Earth actually enjoys the sun shining and beautiful days. I know. I couldn't believe it either. What is wrong with humans? Thank jebus I'm not one.

So for today's theme, here are some of my favorite vintage picks in shades of aqua, good for playing lawn darts...or cattle-branding...or assembling an entire village out of dried banana leaves and coconuts after your ship the Minnow crashes onto a tropical island, or whatever else it is that people do in the summer. Enjoy, heat-seeking, fireball-worshipping humanoids of Earth!



Hot damn, I'd stick my hand in a bag of razorblades and vinegar (what? I don't know either, just go with it) for this vintage 50's hot slice of lovin' (what?) from Dorothea's Closet Vintage.




Killer vintage 50's halter dress from Past Perfect Vintage. It's the quilted picker-upper.





Cutest stripey vintage 60's dress from Metro Retro Vintage.





Amazing vintage 50's spike-heeled stilettos~ look how great they go with the stripey dress above! It's like fate! Or kismet! Or coincidence! From Viva Vintage Clothing.





Super skinny, super cool vintage 50's/60's tie from Glad Rags & Curios.






Vintage 60's men's barkcloth cabana swim set- even Elvis himself would roll outta his grave for this set (or return to Earth from his alien abduction. Or make a rare appearance from his trailer court in Reno. Go with whichever one you believe.) From Living*Doll*Vintage.

Way-Out Wednesday: Too Much Monkey Business

When chicks decide to indulge and buy something for themselves, they usually buy shoes...clothing...puffy unicorn stickers with googly eyes and Dr. Pepper-flavored Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers (whatever, I don't know, isn't that what girls buy?), but not me. I "splurged" ($10, watch out, bank account) and bought a huge lot of awesomely cheesetastic vintage 50's pulp fiction paperbacks recently, because I love to read and also I love to read garbage. So I started looking around for more but found a very, let's see, interesting strain of pulp fiction that is so bizarre that they had to become today's Way-Out Wednesday's theme.

The titles of the articles are not much different than the sleaze you find on today's mags, ("50 Things You Can Do For Your Man Naked." Really, Cosmo?) I think you'll enjoy these vintage 50's pulp magazines, all geared toward men, apparently, you know, what with names like "Real Men" and my favorite: "Man's Conquest." Zoinks!

(I didn't make each pic clickable this week, since all 4 magazines are available from one seller, Vintage Goodness.)




"Like wow, man, this shark is like, totally blowing my mind. Hey buddy, can you spare a dime? How about a sandwich?...Heeeey, like what happened to my reefer? And where did everybody go?...Hey look, there's a shark. I should ask him...Zzzzzz...Ummm, what?...Hey look, there's a shark..." Stupid beatnik surfer hippie got what he had coming.





OK, they really need to be better aware of the juxtaposition (1 billion Big Word points for me!) of their cover story titles. "Could You Handle These 10 Sex Situations" and "The Hippos Wanted My Blood" doesn't really do it for me. I'm pretty sure I could NOT handle that sex situation.





Why marry a virgin when you can get your sweet, sweet lovin' from a teat-pinching, sado-masochistic crab for free? DUH.





"Say, has anyone seen John lately?"
"Oh, he's just out back in the river, flogging his weasel."




"Too Much Monkey Business" by Chuck Berry.

Bus To Beelzebub

Everyone wears sweaters. While this may be true, there is an unknown threat lurking behind them, demanding men's attention, waiting to be set free. On this particular spring day, Dad decided to take the kids on a leisurely drive for ice cream in the old family Studebaker when out of nowhere came a Tight Sweater! What should he do?! Should he stop and let it pass? Look the other way and pretend not to notice it? Stare it down awkwardly until it runs away in tears? Too many options! The Tight Sweater is coming closer! Everyone is in a panic! Send the family poodle out to get help! But it was too late. Since Dad didn't know how to react, he hit the tree in Old Man Jenkin's front yard. Sweater vests and hair ribbons were strewn everywhere. There were no survivors.*


* This public service announcement was brought to you by the Project for the Really Uptight who Destroy Everything. Don't let a Tight Sweater claim another victim! Know how to spot, identify and handle a Tight Sweater. The P.R.U.D.E.s meet every Wednesday in the school library, where they discuss the sin of Tupperware, tight sweaters and how to stop them, the joy of orthopedic comfort sandals and how to bring forth the downfall of the devil's music, also known as rock and/or roll music. They invite everyone to come and sign up to be a member! Snickerdoodles and lemonade will be served. Food and drink is not allowed.


"Bus To Beelzebub" by Soul Coughing.

Heavy Metal

By a show of hands, how many people here are charmed by Mad Men? One...two...ok, so like a million. And how many people are going slightly mad waiting for Series 3 to premier in August? Me too. It's not that the show is particularly awesome or anything, it's just that the clothes, the sky-high heels, the hot-ass men, the addicting soap opera-like plots, the music, the cars, the mid-century modern furniture...make it particularly awesome. Yesterday it seemed like the next season is still a jillion years away but today it only seems like 2 months away. You know, being as though yesterday was only May but today its all of June already.

One bastard of vintage fashion is the lack of props for certain swanky footwear. All the love goes to early 50's babydoll heels with the cutesy rounded bump toe or the fabulosity of swing-era 40's platforms. But how come no one realises the pure genius of late 50's/early 60's heels? Mad Men's cup runneth over with them, so they know what's up. 4 out of 5 men agree that the stiletto heel radiates pure sex. Also, I make up statistics when needed with no solid proof to back it up. Plus the super skinny pointy toe, while wreaking havoc on the foot and possibly causing irreparable damage down the road, is also hot as sin and a little bunionectomey is the price to pay for looking like a vampy piece-o-tail.

So today I'm featuring some of my favorite vintage 50's/60's heels, in metallics (delish!), whether they're gold or silver, have amazing heels or pointy toes, these shoes deserve some hot, hot lovin' and by god as my witness, they'll get their day in their sun. Oh yes, they'll get their day. (Was that dramatic enough?)




From MySweetiePiePie




From Little Vintage Violet





From Denisebrain





From Digs of Vaudeville




"Heavy Metal" by Judas Priest.