Be My Valentine?

Happy Valentine's Day from Meep and Merp!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

(and from me too 'cause I love youse guys)

Love Is Blind...

...and so am I. Do ya like my new spectacles? Well, I love them! They're totally dorky, endearing, and exactly what I wanted.

I've worn glasses since I was ten, but my eyes are so terrible now that the large E at the top of the eye chart looks like a fuzzy, hostile smudge. When I was little, I thought that everybody saw things in the indistinct, blurry way I did.  You can imagine how delighted I was when I got to see that the Moon's craters are actually visible from Earth.

My first pair of glasses were bifocals. After my exam, the optician wrote me a prescription for free bagels at The Bagel Place, which was across the hall from his office. An optician who wrote prescriptions for free cream cheese covered carbohydrates obviously knew what he was doing, putting a pitiful, awkward ten year old in bifocals.

Ok, so I'm still a little awkward, but at least my glasses aren't bifocals anymore. That helps a lot.

Outfit Details:

Linked up here.

Glasses//Ray Ban
Earrings//Charlotte Russe
Blazer//Vintage, 1980s
Dress//Target
Necklace//Vintage
Jeans//ModCloth
Ring//Antique
Shoes//ModCloth

Featured Poet: Leanna Kay

The Castle Built With Rocks That Fell into the Sea

by Leanna Kay

I built a castle with rocks that fell into the sea

And sailed a paper boat on silver lakes as sad as me.

I drank up all the happiness and moonlight with a breath,

While fallen skies and weary eyes danced with life and death.

Before the dark had settled and the sun was painted red,

We danced like daunting lovers. Our love trickled from a thread.

Garden full of white wood trees, we mingled and we sung.

Laughing eyes and foolish ties, we let ourselves be young.

While we played in the vines, I cut my fingertips

On the thorns of yellow roses, blood began to drip.

I cried out, “Where did you go?” I crept into a sleep.

Into my veins a poison cold and harsh began to seep.

When I woke, you were there, but you were not the same.

You never spoke. You smiled, but you wouldn't say my name.

My body, weak and wilted, I stood up and swayed to you.

You didn't try to catch me; like a ghost I fell right through.

You sang a song, enchanting, and it almost quelled my hurt

Until I saw my home of ivory, stained with dust and dirt.

My heart, so sick, so dull, so thin, tried to grasp your hand,

But as you looked away I slipped into a starless land.

Alone, inside the castle built with rocks that fell into the sea,

I watch you through the windows, glossy as can be.

You dance with someone else in a garden fine and fair,

And I'll remember you, though you forgot that I was there.

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Featured Poet: Leanna Kay is one of the sweetest bloggers in the whole blogosphere. Her poetry always brings to mind Alfred Lord Tennyson. Isn't it so beautiful? This piece pulls at my heart each time I read it. If you'd like to read more of her work, take a little trip to her blog.

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Are you a poet? I'd love to feature your original work!
Submission Guidelines:
Subject matter is not limited, though profanity is discouraged.
You must be a follower of The Quirky Poet.
You may send your poems to rachelmarie@thequirkypoet.com.



Thanks for reading!

Why I Love Vintage

To some, vintage is just nasty, used, outdated clothing. But what’s the difference between wearing a garment that’s thirty years old and wearing a piece of clothing you purchased from Target after dozens of people have tried it on in the dressing room? If you’re so afraid of cooties, toss it into the wash, take it to the cleaners, or remain a germophobe and leave all the pretty treasures for me.

(original post)

Five reasons I love wearing vintage:

1. Uniqueness. Wearing vintage clothing means wearing pieces that are no longer sold in large quantities. You’re less likely to bump into someone on the street who is wearing the same outfit. 

(original post)

2. Recycling. Upcycling. Whatever you want to call it. Wearing vintage means you’re lengthening the lifespan of a garment rather than exiling it to the trash can and later, the landfill. 

(original post)

3. History. When I buy a piece of vintage, part of the thrill is to be able to research its origin. Learning where a piece came from gives me pride in my wardrobe. It makes my clothes special. It gives them meaning. (More about determining the age of a garment next week.)

(original post)

4. Modern trends suck. And keeping up with them is a wearisome task.

Also, though sweatpants are very comfortable, wearing them in public is not attractive. I repeat: not attractive. 

(original post)

5. Creativity. Vintage clothing has a way of inspiring the mind. When I wear a piece from 1950, I can picture that time period in my mind and wonder what the woman who first wore the piece felt like when she wore it. 

How do you feel about wearing vintage?

Mon petit placard.

So this is my little bedroom and my closet. The reason the closet appears so sparse is because all the clothes are piled on the bed after laundry day. My room tends to be rather chaotic, and none of my bedding matches. But what did you expect of a quirky poet?

I kind of like taking photos in here...being inside means I get to listen to music. And then pose ridiculously because I’m dancing around like a five year old watching Spongebob. 

I also get to be with my bestemest furry friend Pea, who likes all my mismatched blankets.

Outfit Details:

Earrings//Vintage

Ring//Antique

T-shirt//Target

Cardigan//Vintage

Shorts//Vintage, BONGO 1980s

Tights//Vera Wang for Kohl's

Boots//Vintage, Ebay

Where I Am

Though I don’t have the pleasure of attending the IFB Conference this month, I will be making a trip to NYC in March for a writing conference. This will be my first time in New York. While I’m incredibly thrilled, I’m also incredibly frightened. 

See, I’m directionally challenged. Navigation is not one of my talents. I get lost in my own town, so I will likely be meandering hopelessly through the streets of New York with a GPS system in my hands and a glassy, bewildered expression in my eyes. 

Thinking about what I’ll wear there...probably exactly what I wear when I’m home. I don’t worry much about fitting into my environment. I don’t fit in here, so it makes no difference to me whether or not I fit into the New York aesthetic. 

Clothes aren’t so much about where I am geographically. I dress according to where I am in my mind. (And according to the temperature because no matter how strong the will, I cannot conquer the climate.)

People often ask me why do you wear that. I like to dress as though I’ve just climbed out of a novel. I like to look intriguing and whimsical because that’s where I am in my mind. I wear it because I like it. Because it makes me feel good about myself and good about my world. Because it’s comfortable. Because it inspires me and tells a story. Why would I wear something that didn’t accomplish those things? 

Why do you wear what you wear? Does it depend upon where you are on the globe?

Details:

Photos by Josh. 

Don't you love the awesome effects he used? He's such a genius. 

To see more of his snazzy photography, click here.

Earrings//The Quirky Poet

Trench Coat//Vintage, thrifted

Ring//Target

T-shirt//Hand-me-down

Skirt//The Quirky Poet

Purse and Shoes//ModCloth