Friday, December 19, 2008

Swingin' Them Jingle Bells

If you're like me (and jebus help you if you are), then you probably also wait 'til the very last minute to buy crap for your peeps. But a word of advice, no matter how much your Dad says he'll love whatever you get him, slapping a bow on a bag of Funyuns and a can of Slim Jims ain't gonna cut it from the Kwikie Mart on Xmas Day. And anyway, forget about those damn ingrates. What junk are they going to get you? The new Britney Spears perfume? A Snuggie? (Ok, so I secretly really, reeeeally want one of those creepy, monk-like, cocoon-y...blanket...robe...dealies. If you have no idea what I'm talking about as usual, you can see the craptastic commercial for it here. It is LAME and I love it.)

Well screw that. Spend money on something purdy for yourself instead. 'Tis the season to be a greedy bastard, or whatever. I think that's what the song's moral is, isn't it? Get ready for greatness. (Whoever can tell me what movie that line is from wins nothing!)

I've been looking online for vintage Xmas novelty prints in clothing and there is not much out there. What gives? There's tons of kitschy 50's tablecloths. Awesome, but you can't rock a tablecloth to a party. Well you could, at the risk of looking like the institution let you out a little too soon before treatment was complete. And there's lots of coolio vintage fabrics out there, such as this one below from Fuzzielizzie aka The Vintage Traveler. You know I can't stand me some cats, but vintage 50's kittehs wearing bows under Xmas trees is too much.

But I did indeed find a few fan-freaking-tastic vintage pieces of clothing that you might die for. Or maybe you won't, but you would if you knew what was good for ya. And it's not too late, my little plum puddings. You can still get all of these things in time for Xmas but act fast! Or don't, what do I care. Try to show you something nice and it goes unappreciated. I still love you though, my little sweet savory sausages. (Click on each pic to take you to the listings.)

Vintage 60's party dress~ you can't tell from this picture, but in the weave of the dress is Christmas ornaments! You can wear your BALLS on you sleeve. You heard. From my homeslice Dorothea's Closet Vintage:

This is probably *thee* most Xmas-y dress you've ever seen. Seriously, it is. Because I said it is. Good god y'all, I love this vintage 50's dress- well, it's not a dress, but a blouse and skirt set, so you really can make a jillion different outfits from it. Or 3. But you see what I'm getting at. From mi amiga bonita Senorita Hollywood Vintage:

And finally from yours truly, me, of Fast Eddie's Retro Rags, comes this vintage late 50's/early 60's novelty print blouse with HUGE cuffs and a trillion sparkling rhinestones. Am I insane for thinking it's the coolest thing ever? You should probably not answer that, unless the answer is "Why yes, Kim. Yes it is."

The front has a print of a tree and presents...

...and the back has an old-timey carriage scene of old-timey peeps doing old-timey things. Dig it.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Girl You Know It's True

(Damn straight it's Milli Vanilli!)

The Xmas presents are just pouring in here at my house- well, maybe not so much pouring as trickling, really...drip, drip, drip...Like Chinese water torture. Minus the Chinese...or the water...or torture. So it's not like that at all. OK, so I got a second present in the mail from another deranged friend, next to the infamous Zombie Bird of Doom. This one was from another one of my freaky deaky friends, Jen over at MomsPatterns. She sent me a fantastic magazine from the 40's, there's no cover and missing pages but it's probably one of those aimed at housewives, like "Ladies Home Journal" or "Get Back In The Kitchen And Birth Some Babies, After You Make Your Man A Chicken Pot Pie". One of the wonderful things about vintage magazines (besides the clothing I'd give my firstborn for- $2.98 for a rhinestone cardigan? I'll take 20, please), are the ads. Those wonderful, condescending ads aimed at us stupid, silly women. How dare we even be allowed to read? We are so out of line.

Behold some of the wonder and fun of being a woman in the 40's:


Why was she so nervous and unhappy in the first place that warranted her husband drugging her uppity ass with downers? Getting scrappy in my house? No way, bitch! Thanks, Dr, Nervine!


Even white girls get the blues. You know what's a "periodic pain"? Your husband, honey.


There better not be any single people taking this quiz, because it's for married folks only. Only married people have any concept of sex, don'tcha know. And as we all know if you're not married and have s-e-x, your neighbors will shun you, you'll have to say 4 billion hail Mary's and you'll be kicked out of the sewing circle. Remember that, ladies. Remember that.

But best of all is the fine print of the quiz:


You stupid, simpering cows. It's YOUR FAULT your husband is cheating on you. The homely housewife neglected her "special lady bits" and sent her husband into a tizzy and wrote a letter to another woman, so I hope she's happy now. Luckily, Lysol will prevent your husband from banging his secretary, apparently. Perhaps our lonely, loser wife should have an affair with Dr. Nervine. He cures everything!

For a change of pace, how's about he get his butt to steppin' and dry those dishes? This apron must have been invented by a woman. A man? In the kitchen? Oh, a girl can dream, can't she? (Dr. Nervine informs me that no, she cannot.)

(Cute-and-unrealistic vintage 50's apron for sale on Etsy. Click pics to get you to seller's listing.)

Monday, December 15, 2008

Oh, Tannenbaum

How is it possible that I had more Xmas spirit on Halloween than I do now? Is it wrong that all I want to do is eat fried things, watch Saved By the Bell and blame everyone else for my Grinchy disposition? I thought not.

Total presents bought: 0
Total cards mailed: 0
Total cookies baked: 0
Total carols sung: 1. But I was flying high on eggnog, so it DOESN'T COUNT as being festive.

I blame the malls and Targets and places of mass consumerism for pushing Xmas in our grills too early. You know who else I blame? Lemme think...Jebus Claus. I blame him, somehow. What with his forcing his 8 Reindeer Of The Apocalypse on us, threatening us to be good OR ELSE. And Rudolph doesn't count as one of the team players. He's a freaking GIMP for crying out loud. A gimp with a robot nose. Why is HE so special that he gets the cherry spot all the way up front? I'm sure Dasher and Dancer behind him are quite sick to death of staring at the "handicapped" licence plate hanging from his ass. I bet they're just itching to throw his lame ass overboard when Jebus Clause isn't looking and blame it on trade winds. Whatever happened to survival of the fittest and all? Casting out the less-able and putting the strongest and most virile in charge? Even Jebus Clause fell prey to the PC-ness of the Season. Either that, or he was threatened to be sued by Rudolph's parents for gimpy nose discrimination.

I did, however, manage to put up my tree this weekend. I love me some of that wonky tree that takes forEVer to put together. It's up, but it's not decorated, which will be done in stages throughout the week or however long the eggnog lasts.

Here's a current, "before" pic:


Yeah, it's sitting on a hatbox with no tree skirt around it yet and not decorated and looking rather sad and unloved currently, so what, you wanna fight about it?

It has the coolest little explosions on the end of each branch, like the tree is regurgitating shredded soda cans.


Perhaps when the mood behooves me, I'll show the "after" picture, once I make purdy my "Evergleam Stainless Aluminum 7 Foot Tree With Tripod Stand" (so says the box, what, you think I could make that crap up?)