Vegan is the new "faux"

On Tuesday I fed my handbag obsession with a little retail therapy. I knew from the price point that this bag wasn't real leather, but did not expect to see this spin on it:

Teeny, tiny, terrific

My friends Laura & Anna's teeny-tiny (380 sq ft!!) Boston digs survived the Sweet Sixteen bracket in Apartment Therapy's SmallCool Contest. Please vote and help get them into the Final Four (Yes, basketball fans, I am using NCAA Finals terminology. This is *exactly* like March Madness. Except it is May. And about home design instead of basketball. In a space that is 1/12th the size of a regulation NCAA court. Etc.)

For Sherri: Le Chat Botte

When I posted the original version of this video, Sherri said he looked like he needed a monocle. Apparently someone else thought he needed a whole outfit and a Mexican sidekick:



I find this particularly amusing because for a recent charity fairy tale costume ball, The BF went as Captain Hook (reprising this costume) and I went as Puss In Boots. I wore more clothes than Monsieur Le Chat above though, and everyone thought I was a pirate or a musketeer. Didn't matter, we had a blast.

Thanks to Papasan for the link.

April, Enchanting

This time of year I always want to pack it all up and rent a villa in Italy. As I have neither the time nor the means, I try to fill the void with a semi-annual viewing of Enchanted April. In 1920s London, four women –- strangers to each other -– pool their resources and rent San Salvatore, a beautiful castle on the side of a wisteria-draped hill on an Italian lake. As each reflects on the things at home that they think are making them unhappy, they fall under the spell of their enchanting surroundings and come to terms with their lives and loves. If you have not seen this little gem of a movie, put in on your Netflix queue right now.

And if anyone wants to go in on a villa with me, leave a note in the comments…

First they stand upright, then they grow opposable thumbs, and before you know it they are smoking and drinking

I used to have a cat who would stand at my front door like this—for hours—checking out what was going on in the neighborhood. She couldn’t balance this well; she needed to lean her front paws on the bottom of the storm door window, but you couldn’t tell from behind. She looked oddly human. Or maybe alien. And like she forgot her pants.

Meanwhile, The Lounging Party can barely rouse themselves from sleeping to do anything more strenuous than take a nap.

Miss you Casper…