Dumb and Dumber is one of the movies that I spun HARD in our 90s DVD player. Back in those early days, DVD players cost like, as much as a Coachella VIP ticket. So we had to ration our film selections. Every DVD we purchased had to be a powerful, robust choice. Dumb and Dumber was one of the chosen ones, and was hastily memorized. Also, we saw it in the theater. Groundbreaking diarrhea scene to an 8 year old’s unsullied eyes? We died.

I have been wanting to create some tuxedo wine cozies for the longest time, but couldn’t figure out a WOW angle until I had a “doyyy” moment after thinking of Lloyd and Harry’s groovy suits. This is how to create the cozies for yourself so you too can bring a couple of bottles of bubbly to a fancy Aspen fundraiser. Hopefully you won’t accidentally cork an endangered owl.

P.S. – Pee Wee Herman is next!

I have long fine hair that is prone to feeling like an oil spill near the roots if I’m not careful about washing it every 1.5 days. If I have a sweaty nightmare-y sleep in one of my “off” days, the top of my head will transform into an oily, prehistoric tar pit, trapping any saber tooth tigers and Woolly Mammoths that cross the path of my forsaken scalp. Over-washing and pH balance are the culprits in fine hair that is susceptible to grease, but like, when am I supposed to reset the pH of my hair with a full blown “no ‘poo” experiment where you wash with only baking soda and vinegar? My hair is not an elementary school science project. I need to start integrating dry shampoo and shower caps into my daily routine way more often. But first, I need to establish a daily routine because most of my days start with me rolling out of bed like a Play-Doh log and into whatever form of legging isn’t on the floor in a lumpen heap.

I was getting fairly disheartened about my hurr situation for a long time. I will admit I am afraid of haircuts and the emotional intensity brought forth by the wayward snips of foreign scissors. If they cut too much it feels like part of my identity is being tourniqueted then disposed of. Yes, I am attached to my hair, like a barnacle on the hull of a ship. Woops. Never let go!!!!

Then I discovered this N.4 High Performance Hair Care- Lumiere d’hiver (Clariying Shampoo). Last year I received a sample of it in a Birchbox and immediately poo-poo’d it for its bland design and perfumy scent. I only started using it in my trip to Peru last winter and OMG. The tiny sample size lasted me the full ten days out of the country. Granted I was only taking showers every 4 days but like….

The shampoo itself flows like slick lava out of what looks like a dial handsoap dispenser. An 8.5 ounce bottle lasted me a full 2 months which is amazing for a shampoo ho like me. It manages to smooth out my hair while adding body at the same time, without giving it that dull texture and without eventually deteoriating into a stringy mess.  Plus it seems to tuck my split ends neatly into themselves. I like it.

Princess Leia is sad because disco is dead like Alderaan.

This disco ball is sooOoo shabby chic. Governor Tarkin would get his undies in a bunch over the destruction of his beloved superlaser but woops, he dead.

A lot of us in generation iPhone have to bootstrap our home décor….especially if we are holding down nearly any kind of job in this modern workplace, sifting through economic silt of our forefathers.  This Death Star Disco Ball is not the cheapest craft you can make (it will cost you about $100 of your monthly candy fund and 17-500 hours of your free time), BUT…Imagine this sparkling ball hanging from the stucco in your own home: a conversation starter for infinity and beyond! An ice breaker that actually looks like broken ice. And if you are a 70s afficionado, well, what better to express “DISCO IS DEAD” this than the mirrored detritus of an exploded fictional weapon of massive planetary destruction? OKAY, OKAY.

Star Wars is the overused film franchise from which I siphon much inspiration. And mirror balls have been a staple of the Brady Bunch corner of my mind for years!  And of course I love crafting pretty hard, for its therapeutic properties no doubt. Once in a while I need to sit down for 14+ hours at a labia-numbing craft like this just to get the kinks out of my whirring psyche.

You’ll need a few runs to the store for obscure supplies. If you are dedicated to cultural references and can gather up some clumsy, gleaming ambition, then you’re all set. Watch the for the complete tutorial & may the Schwartz be whichu.

What’s your favorite Star Wars character? I love Chewbacca, with his Tyra Banks skyscraper forehead and permanent bell bottoms,  And I’m actually not a Darth Vader hater. I think he looks pretty cool (helmet on) and would even let him borrow my inhaler so…..

<3

Jewelry is fucking awesome. And cheap jewelry is the most awesome, until you sweat and it leaches a band of green copper alloy residue onto your skin- the insidious Zorro mark of a Forever 21 accessory binge.

I’ve been really into gold jewelry lately, and by lately I mean the past 26 years of my life.  FUN STORY: I’m allergic to Mexican gold. We found out the hard way when I got my ears pierced when I was just a larval human. My ear lobes reacted violently to the gold studs and proceeded to grow around the earrings in an attempt to eat them and assimilate them into my body for proper destruction. And I’ve been gold hungry since ’87! One time I paid for an embarrassing amount of parking tickets by selling 2 small gold coins like some millennial pirate, arrrghhh ‘tis true, me matey!!!!

It’s hard to look regal on a budget, but even harder to have the narcissistic personality disorder that is a prerequisite to aspiring to look like royalty. I love jewelry as much as the next Liz Taylor, but Mint dot com and Sallie Mae tell me that my golden dreams will have to w8 for now.  I wear two gold rings on my fingers ALWAYZ. They got really loose in my post college years when I lost all my Svedka weight, and are due for a self esteem-boosting resizing. My butch daemon tempts me to do DIY a welding session, but I fear that would leave me with a melted phalange.

I saw a chain lock necklace somewhere on the vast digital plains of the Internet and knew it would help sustain and nourish my gold fever. It’s a sick design and has the visual intensity required by my daily mumus/aura.  So I went off to the hardware store to get this chain door lock:

Chain locks are as old as Vaudeville, which is embarrassing to our Diabetes by Dre generation.  They allow the door to open slightly, so that a marauder can still stick his arm through and shoot you in your fat face. Are these supposed to make us feel safer? Do you have one on your door? You better, just in case Creeper McCreepballs triangulates your location through your Instagrams, breaks into your apartment and furtively tries on your high heel collection before you come home from barre class some day!!!!!

This was a relatively easy craft to complete, and I highly recommend if you like attention and don’t mind wearing hardware that you find next to toilet piping at Home Depot around your dainty neck. It looks great in my tree of aluminum chains from H&M jewelry box, and probably will in yours too!

This may be my favorite craft ever, which says a lot because I am afraid of cartoons!