Chameleon

I’ve always loved the idea of being a chameleon. Some women have the same look everyday. Some women can change their look with a stroke of a make-up brush. Some women can change their look completely, rendering them unrecognizable.

I love playing dress-up. Here are a couple of occasions that I changed my look completely, take on two different continents.

Frenchie

Indian Princess

Bombshell Playlists

I listen to a very eclectic mix of music. Country and heavy rap excluded. Here's a peek into my playlists.

Playlist Une

1. Sinnerman - Nina Simone
2. Fever - Ella Fitzgerald
3. My Heart Belongs to Daddy - Julie London
4. Oh Fortuna - Karl Orff
5. Begin the Beguine - Artie Shaw
6. Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend - Eartha Kitt
7. Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major: Allegro - Bach
8. In the Mood - Glenn Miller
9. C'est Si Bon - Yves Montand
10. Feelin Good - Michael Buble
11. Les Parapluies a Fleur - Mathieu Boogaerts
12. All the Things that You Are - Artie Shaw

Playlist Deux

1. Domino Dancing - Pet Shop Boys
2. Just Dance - Lady Gaga
3. C'est Une Belle Journee - Mylene Farmer
4. World in My Eyes - Depeche Mode
5. Come Undone - Duran Duran
6. Kiss Them for Me - Siouxsie & the Banshees
7. Zoot Suit Riot - Cherry Poppin' Daddy
8. No Ordinary Love - Sade
9. Some Like it Hot - Robert Palmer/Powerhouse
10. Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar
11. Lullaby - The Cure
12. Walking on Broken Glass - Annie Lennox
13. Rock Me Amadeus - Falco

Getting gussied up

I have a ritual that I go through when I get gussied up for a night on the town. I light my candles in my boudoir (I have my very own room off from my bedroom dedicated to my antique art deco vanity, my vintage hat collection, my rhinestone collection and my armoire filled with fabulousness). My beloved husband pours me a glass of champagne, always in a coupe, never a flute. I play a little Artie Shaw or Ella Fitzgerald to get me into the bombshell mood. I prance, I contemplate, and I sashay. When the ritual is almost complete, which can take anywhere from two to three hours, I saunter out to the living room to model the results to my beloved. The reaction I usually get is that of the wolf from the old cartoons; his eyes pop out and his jaw drops to the floor. It’s been like this for over six years. I do believe I am doing something right. {wink}

Good-bye Catwoman

Eartha Kitt passed away on Christmas Day. First Bettie Page and now Eartha? We are not doing too good. I will pay tribute to her in some bombshell manner.

{cue Eartha's "Santa Baby"}

Bah-humbug

I can’t wait for this to be over. I grew out of Christmas when I was 13; the day I figured out Santa was my father. Their handwritings were suspiciously similar. My 11 year old step son figured out three years ago that Santa could not exist because it was impossible for him to beat the space time continuum. Umm, who does that?

Anyways, I am over trying to do Kabuki theater over Santa. Just open the presents already! Let’s drink to family, prosperity and health. Salut!

One martini, two martini, floor….

So it begins...

After much contemplation (months, really), I decided to start a blog. God knows why. A smart woman should never put anything in writing. Especially on the internet. I detest having to veer myself from my favourite fountain pen and ribbon-bonded journal. But to do both would be superfluous. I will miss the black ink stains on my right middle finger.

Why “rhinestones?” Because diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Even though we can’t always afford them, rhinestones are our second choice to diamonds; both elements almost mandatory in a bombshell wardrobe, as dictated by the Bombshell Manual of Style.

Hehe, you should see my collection…..