happy trails

She likes dressing, or skirting as the case may be, for work and she likes bike commuting.  Deal breaker is,  she doesn't have far to go, so no danger of pitting out the happy red coat.  And the vintage boots she got at Salvation Army on Nicollet for $10 don't really become a hazard until after ten miles or so.

I applaud her uncompromising good taste:  The tights are a civil consideration.  I pop on some tallboy underpants and carpe diem.  Caveat emptor.  Opus Dei.  In flagrante delicto?  Or as they say in Rome, oh god.

the Haight lives on

 So so much to love,  this theater student is wearing her very own flawless complexion with her grandmother's handmade-by-hippie-1960s-SanFran-artisans bag and a croquet-on-the-lawn seersucker bustle skirt from Larue's in south Minneapolis.  Wait, let's get a better look at that bag.  Absolutely trippy.  It used to have beads on it too.  I think I'm getting a whiff of patchouli.  Or something.

Jill

I know what you're going to say -- seeds?!  On May 18th? That's insane!  Due to the one hula hoop on her ear, I assumed Jill was an artist. Well that's silly.  Never jump to conclusions because, in this case, the asymmetry was unintentional, which clearly points to clothing designer.  Which is on her resume, along with her current position -- Delightfully Confident Wearer Of Her Own Skin, A Len Druskin Top, Some Kick-Ass Boots and Rocker Of Excellent Silver Hand Candy.  That's kind of an upper management position, lotta responsibility.  In her mastery of this field, she demonstrates some nuances that have eluded me, namely the difference between confident (above) and shameless (behind the camera).  Vive la difference, right?

flowers n bows n international studies majors

 What's all this? A clever pattern bisecting this dress into equal parts sweet, sophisticated and perfect which so often blur together but here are clearly defined;  pretty scarves blowing about the lower leg like ankle ascots but functional;  tri-media sandals that marry filmy chiffon, earthy leather and rich-looking brushed metal in one-derfulness; frilly crocheted shoulder bag with cute floral lining that you can't see but I did.  The thing that makes this so happy-making non-MOA good is the wearer, who got the whole kit and caboodle -- hair, elbows, sandals, sunny demeanor -- in Spain.  She's going back for the summer to reboot (ha, that's a footwear joke), but will return to Macalester in the fall.  Even beyond their track for running around when no one can see how very slowly I'm going and unguarded piles of mulch, Macalester brings so much to our little neighborhood, doesn't it?  Nonetheless, we often call it MacLackluster to bring the dim light of lowbrow humor to our small dark world. And when I say we, I mean I.

the theme for the day is stripes

You know how vulnerable I am to stripes, well, this simple bold design statement drew a line right to my eyeballs as I tottered by.  Dresses, exposed skin, me on a bike --  signs of spring or the scene instructions for a low-budget horror film?  You decide.

look homeward angel

If this young man is not channeling Thomas Wolfe, I don't know squat.  Ok, hush all you h8trs. He used to work at Hymies, where he came by the suspenders, and retrofit the trousers to be southern-man-friendly.  Look downward angels and observe some effin real mandals. I don't know where he got em because I was 100% in his Faulkner-esque thrall and was not listening.  I was hoping the below blowup would show his  oh-ashley southern charm suspenders.  Alas.  One doesn't come across this shit very often.

madame librarian

Nicely accoutered in books and a shoulder bag she got in Korea, she's working in the Macalester library for the summer.  She's a Japanese major and, in fact, got the knee socks in Japan where they major in high socks, and sort of overtly sexywear.  Now, I'm majoring in wildly ignorant statements, but Japanese culture seems obsessed with cartoons. Sometimes creepy or violent cartoons where an adorable pink kitten kills and eats a child and then shyly peeks out of the carcass with blood dripping off its cute whiskers.  That's weird.  See, in the US of A, we don't have to rely on cartoons -- we just watch Fox TV. 

Here are some Japanese socks in situ.

yes, those are her real eyebrows

She gets asked that a lot. Probably.  Everyone is like, Ooooo, your eyebrows are so perfect and long, eyebrows eyebrows eyebrows, all the time...  

Well yodel-ay-hee-hoo,  I'm just going to go out there, march to a different clarinet, and say I really like her Rapunzel braids and baby-those-are-long blue fingernails.  I really like them and they're real. Really.  Real as that piece of spinach in my teeth.  Her hands get a lot of attention because they're plunking down big plates of sizzling beef muscle mignon at Murray's, where she's headed right now.  Enjoy!