A Treasury Of… Minneapolis Fashion and Interior Design Blog

It’s perfectly normal to get excited at the sight of a flesh-toned Sharpie marker.

Don’t let anyone tell you it’s something to feel ashamed of.

So, like…Valet said that Esquire said that any man’s style can be slotted into one of twelve tribes.

Life is never as simple as magazine layouts lead us to believe, but if it were, I’d give a swift-kick to my sedentary work week, take a hatchet to my iMac and join up with this blue-collared dude and his so-called “Workman” wardrobe.

According to the article earnestly-earned paint splotches and callused palms are the required finishing touches on the Workman uniform, which poses a personal problem for me since, last time I checked, Blackbird Ballard offered neither on their webshop. Uh oh.

But what I like about Esquire’s indigo-ed icon for its Workman look is its upperclass undercurrents. Soon as this dude finishes his well-earned smoke break he looks more likely to head Uptown into a Kiehls store than down some shaft into a Colorado coal mine, which sagely aims the look away from cliché costumery and into realistic wearability.

Minus the Marlboro and one of his four tops – I’d dutifully work the Workman uniform exactly as pictured.

I wasn’t kind to this little camera when it first presented itself to me.

First off, I scorned its lack of a built-in flash, and being that it arrived without a manual no matter which golden dial I turned or tweaked, I couldn’t even open the blasted thing to load a test roll of film.

The device was demoted unceremoniously to knick-knack status, but since then, it’s become one of my favorite objets décoratifs. Like an opulent little czar it roosts regally near my front door illiciting wide-eyed oohs and ahhs from nearly all who enter.

I tried today once again to unlock its mystifying film chamber but still it refused to budge. I no longer curse its opulent uselessness, however. I’ve plenty of plain and plasticky cameras to get, you know…productive with. My snaky little Leica deserves to just sit about in lazy, good-looking luxury and otherwise not do a thing.

Winters where I’m from drag almost into May, but since I’m fashion-antsy and always aim to dress three months ahead of real life/weather, I’m already over sweaters for the season, and am on the verge of folding up my buffalo plaid flannel button-up as well.

And so…while this Aubin & Wills tartan tote tickles all my fancies, I don’t think we really, truly belong together.

It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just bad timing…

Forced to kill some time yesterday I came upon a basket of these 60 cent mini-bars.

The Honeycomb & Vanilla ones are made with Bourbon Vanilla, no less, and they’re gritty to the tooth – crispy little crystals crinkling inside the creamy, classic chocolate.

I was imagining hunky chunks of honeycomb inside and, well…I guess I still am.

If I could have one – only one – then I guess I’d opt for the all leather tote. (Third one down.)

And if I could have them all, I would – quite gladly.

I think of photos like these when I have to do something boringly back-breaking, like shoveling mounds of Minnesota snow.

(And, note to self:
Invest in some overalls.)

It’s a definite kick…

taking care of your kicks…

when you’re oil cans of tin…

look as polished as this.

Just because I now know I could use a pricy proxy to procure from Japan this vibrant vest by Seminead, doesn’t mean I should.

The peppy-puffed piece sure would juice up some faded denim with either black or tawny boots this Spring though.

I guess I’ll try and find something similar domestically…although I’m not optimistic about my odds.

I’ve been treasuring away for over a year now and I can’t believe I never posted about this book before. My sister gave it to me as a gift a few years back, and really I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t enjoy receiving a copy.

“First published in 1924 this delicious book is a peek at life in England between the wars, and is a useful mini-encyclopedia, filled with games, recipes, bird-spotting information, first-aid instructions, and random, often wacky trivia. Learn the proper way to kiss in the ocean, eat mice, play ‘Human Sacrifice’ and more.”

Flipping through my copy, I imagine getting holed up at some countryside cottage for months on end, my only source of amusement and information, my Week-End Book. Stocked with miscellaneous sonnets, tips on etiquette, maps of the stars, and retro tips for preparing tinned British foods, the days and weeks would ripple rapidly away.

It’s a true Swiss Army Knife of a book – there’s even a checkers ‘n chess board and a ruler printed on its inside cover.

My copy states that the publisher intended to update the book with all new content for 2006. Looking online, it doesn’t appear that that ever happened. But I did find its re-printed sister book, The Week-End Problems Book, which is set to arrive in the post tomorrow!

I know it’s the weekend, friends, but I’m giving us all a homework assignment.

Get yourself a treat and enjoy it next to your glowing-est window. Make sure it’s otherwise dark inside, and make sure it’s good and quiet.

When you think you’re finished, look just a little bit longer and listen just a little bit more…

Then on you can go.

Do you forever become a tool if you even think about using tools like these at your desk?

Cause I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t let posh pens or pencil-refills be my ruin.