Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Adventures in Painting

Although I love my pearls and nipped-in waists, I also enjoy a solid afternoon of home repair.  This is why I took on the massive project of painting the entire first level of my house.  This level has an open living room, dining room, and partly open kitchen, and all four walls were painted a blue-white.  Now if there is one thing Mrs. W dislikes, it's cool whites.  They darken the room without adding color.  Here's a wall sample:


Now here's the color I chose to replace such a blue hue:


Lovely, isn't it? Some might even call it the color of...Cancun Sand.  Eh?  Anyhoo, the confession part of this post is that I started painting last July 4th, with every intention of finishing within several weeks.  But then I got on the top rung of the ladder, as Mr. W had told me not to, in order to reach the very high ceiling.  Predictably, I fell off.  Landed on top of the ladder, bruised and cut up my whole right side.  It was not very ladylike.  So for about six months, the main floor looked like this:


Through dinner parties, and hosting Christmas, the first floor was half-done.  Thankfully, Easter is a time of resurrection (and help from in-laws), so the rest of the floor is now painted and matches.  Glory be.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Mrs W says....

Would you care for a chocolate?  It tastes better when served on a doily.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

WTF?

In looking around for "WTF?" items, I came across two kind-of-bizarre images.  Neither of them was weird enough in and of itself, but the fact that both were randomly from the same movie, and I found them in separate searches, seemed to indicate to me that I should post them.  Picnic was a movie from 1955, critically acclaimed and well-received by audiences....although the stills are a bit confusing.

"One of us belongs on the cover of a romance novel...
the other refuses to partake in such nonsense, and is merely here to rest against this log."


"Are we laying down?  Or propped up against a wall in the girl's bathroom?
Hard to know, but I'm glad neither of us is wearing tops."

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Charade

This week I watched Charade, from 1963.


This is a rom-com-dram.  The rom is from Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn falling in love while trying to find Audrey's character's late husband's missing fortune. (I'd refer to them by their character names, but Cary's character lies repeatedly about his identity, so his name changes about every twenty minutes, each time Audrey's character catches him in a lie.)  The com is from Cary's arrogant dry wit, and Audrey's sassy dry wit, both of which are immensely appealing:

Peter Joshua: Why do you think Tex did it? 
Reggie Lampert: Because I really suspect Gideon and it's always the person you don't suspect. 
Peter Joshua: Do women find it feminine to be so illogical, or can't they help it? 


Reggie Lampert: You're blocking my view.
Peter Joshua: Ohh... which view would you prefer?
Reggie Lampert: The one you're blocking. 



The dram is because people keep dying, and the viewer (and Hepburn's character) aren't sure who to trust.  


The story is fantastic, the dialogue witty, the characters interesting; it's one of my favorite movies of all time.  Plus, you can't beat Cary Grant for handsome leading man:


Somebody get me a cold compress.
And there is no one more beautiful and elegant than Audrey Hepburn:


Hello, bright eyes.
Sigh. Remember when life was simple and women wore scarves over their hair and men dressed in suits every day and we had to figure out where Charles hid a quarter of a million dollars before a group of thieves killed us?  Those were the days.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Spring pick: Heels

During the winter months, I wear boots about 5 days a week.  By the time March rolls around, I'm ready to put the boots in the back of the closet and pull out the heels.  I know there are a lot of women who hate high heels because they can be uncomfortable.  But, if you wear them on days you know you won't be walking a lot, and you buy high quality shoes, they're really not bad at all.  Mainly, I love heels because they make me feel feminine and pretty.

Which is so dumb on many levels, but whatever.  I'm 5'8" and have shoulders like a Packers linebacker, so I find my cues of lady-likeness wherever I can. Other reasons to love a good pair of pumps: heels make calves look shapely when you're wearing a skirt, and they lengthen and slim the leg.  

Every high heel-lover should have a pair of red heels...


t-strap heels...


heels in unconventional colors....


stripper heels*...
Wait, what?  No.  I take that last one back.

(I got this picture from a website called, no joke, Booty Cocktails.)

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Bundt cake

This past week I had a coffee date at my home with another lady.  The same day, Mr. W was due home back from a business trip.  Mr. W's favorite dessert that I make is my grandma's Almond Chocolate Chip Bundt cake, thus I made the cake for his return, and to serve to my friend, Mrs. B.


Mrs. B has given up chocolate for lent, but chocolate chips aren't really chocolate, right?  I'm sure Jesus understands such distinctions.  

Regretfully, the bundt cake did not exactly bake.  


It wasn't raw, it was more...rare.  The problem is the almond filling which is so moist and dense; it just doesn't cook properly if you don't add enough milk to the batter.  Which I didn't.  Boo-hoo.


No worries, both Mrs. B and Mr. W and I all enjoyed the cake in small cups, with a spoon.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

WTF?

Although, as a lady, I abhor cursing, I must introduce a new feature to the blog: WTF?  This is where I will be posting photos/ads/images of a retro nature which elicit a WTF? response from the average viewer.

Thus, I present to you,

"Grandma thinks showing their bare arms makes the twins look like whores."
Feel free to add your own captions in the comments.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Spring pick: The Shirtdress

As the weather grows warmer, my thoughts naturally turn to the most sacred of springtime joys: my spring closet.  The first pick for spring is the shirtdress.


I have four shirtdresses: green, blue, black, grey. The shirtdress looks so put together, but it's delightfully comfortable.  The cut is flattering on everyone, and you can accessorize it in many different ways: belts, scarves, heels, flats, jewelry, etc.  Love the belt on this example below:


As with so many good things, the shirtdress came of age in the 1950s:


Apparently, these ladies below are using a bouquet of flowers and some witty hand gestures to accessorize their shirtdresses.


Finally, I leave you with a bizarre photo.  Not sure what these crabby gals are up to, but I love the flipped collar on the shirtdress of the one in the middle:

Friday, March 11, 2011

The Parent Trap

This week I watched The Parent Trap.*  I love Maureen O'Hara.  



I love Brian Keith.  



I love that there was a time when people got dressed up to fly on planes.  

Ms. O'Hara's traveling suit.

Heard the term "traveling suit"?  No?  That's because we live in a society without civility!  In 1961 you wore a traveling suit on a plane and you were on your best behavior.  Granted, I can't be on my best behavior when I fly because I need three vodkas on ice and half a Benadryl just to get me on the damn plane...but I always wear something nice.

(*Don't ever speak to me about the 1998 remake of The Parent Trap.  That was a shameful time in movie-making history.)

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Confession

I love vacuuming, dusting, doing laundry, wiping down counters, sweeping, and a myriad of other exceptionally satisfying household chores.  What keeps me from being the perfect homemaker is that I HATE IRONING.  There.  I said it aloud.  I hate it.  Mostly I hate it because I only do it when Mr. W needs something ironed and he usually waits five minutes before I plan on going to bed, and then says, "Oh hey, can you iron this shirt so I can wear it tomorrow?"  

I hate that even wrinkle-free shirts need to be ironed.  I hate that there are no short-cuts--if you iron a shirt in three minutes...it looks like you ironed the shirt in three minutes.  I hate that Mr. W can't iron his own shirts.  At least not very well.  

I will spend the rest of the week feeling shameful that I have not embraced this most basic of home tasks.  June Cleaver would be most disappointed in me.

I know, June, I'm shocked at my behavior, too.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The Maltese Falcon

This week I watched The Maltese Falcon.



I thought it was....umm....  I felt the movie lacked....eh....  Okay, in a word.  Boo.  Booooo!  This was supposed to be a caper film, but in the end, there was no treasure.  Turns out it was a caper of the heart, and Bogart's character finally finds a woman he can commit to, and she's a murderer.  And he turns her in.  But the good news is, she'll only serve 20 years of a life sentence, and he'll wait for her!  That is not a thrilling ending.

Also, can you believe how small the guns were back in the day?


 My final thoughts...Mary Astor is not the dish she's supposed to be.  Her eyebrows are drawn in and her hair is flat on one side, bouffant on the other.  WTF?



Also, Humphrey Bogart speaks like he has too many teeth in his mouth.  I find this oddly appealing.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Mrs W says....



The perfect wife knows how to mix the perfect martini.  Cheers!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Casablanca

This week I watched Casablanca.  I love old black and white movies.  Everything seems more romantic, more dramatic, more elegant.


What I learned:


1) I want Ingrid Bergman's waistline.    

She's long and lean, but she still has a defined waist, which is unusual (and admittedly might have been accomplished through a girdle and cinching).
2) Women should wear suits outside the office.  

What about a lovely dinner suit?

Love the sharp shoulders on this garment.
3) Everyone looks taller in black and white.  Humphrey Bogart was only 5'8" but he looks like a giant in this movie.

4) People should still drink champagne from those old squat glasses.


I love all things old, but old movies especially make me nostalgic and dreamy.  Sigh...

Monday, February 21, 2011

Boeuf Bourguignon

Yesterday we had yet another snowstorm.  I'm trying to get worked up about it, but at this point it's rote.  Boo-hoo, lots of snow, bad driving.   

Every time we get hit with snow, I make something hardy.  So before the snow began, I scurried out to the grocery store and picked up the ingredients for Boeuf Bourguignon which is basically fancy beef stew.  Julia Child pioneered the recipe for this French staple, but I used Ina Garten's version, from Barefoot in Paris, a cookbook that has never done me wrong.  I'm sorry to be sacrilegious, but Julia Child's original recipes have steered me wrong more than once, which is harder for me to bare than it is for you, Julia, trust me.  

First saute the bacon...
Nothing quite so retro as an enormous slab of red meat, yes?
Best part of this recipe was adding a half cup of cognac, then lighting it on fire.  Mr. W warned me that if I set the house on fire, the firefighters probably wouldn't make it through the storm to put it out.  

I'm happy to say it was a great success.  Mr W declared it his new favorite meal.


This morning Mr W got up at 4:30 to snowblow the driveway.  I offered to do it myself, but I'm not allowed to operate heavy machinery...anymore...

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Oh hey there!

Welcome to Mrs. W Knows Best!  I am Mrs. W, your hostess for this experiment in exploring my somewhat sheepish draw to the culture of years gone by—meatloaf, monogrammed towels, cocktail hour, the hourglass figure—while still enjoying the benefits of being a modern woman—a satisfying career, home repairs, tabloid gossip.  This blog will be a combination of the following features: recipes, fashion/style, lifestyle, gardening, home decor, and general frivolity.  I am both irreverent and sincere, campy and classy, traditional and modern.  Let’s enjoy the ride!