{Thrifting 101} I thrifted: Linen and gold 6.14.12

Vintage linen vest? Thrifted, $3.99. American Eagle striped shirt? Thrifted, $2.99. Shorts? Thrifted, $2.99. Vintage Coach satchel? Thrifted, $10.00. Bracelets? Forever 21, $8.00.

 Michael Kors rose gold watch? Thrifted, $40.00.

There's something about wearing an entirely thrifted outfit that makes me feel good, much in the same way eating chocolate chip cookies does (because they're essentially a hug for your mouth.) A thrifted outfit admits to the world both that I'm both an unbridled cheapskate and stubborn shopper, the kind that spends hours digging through racks while tolerating grimy hands and allergic reactions to dust all for the sweet satisfaction of an outfit that cost less than a tank of gas.

I spied this vest during a brief thrifting excursion last week. I was in a hurry, and I didn't buy it. But it haunted me so persistently that I returned to the store the very next day in search of it.

What would you wear with this linen vest? Give me some of your outfit ideas!

Almost daily outfit of the day: M is for Missoni 1.2.12

Missoni for Target sweater; thrifted American eagle thermal tee; thrifted J Crew skirt; vintage Frye boots (eBay); We Love Colors tights

When Target announced their collaboration with Missoni back in the summer, I was flummoxed. While I hadn't been especially impressed with previous Target collaborations, Missoni interested me. Their luxurious knits and sumptuous patterns are quintessentially Italian. Their clothes seemed appropriate for a quick jaunt to the Almafi coast in a vintage Porsche convertible with a tall, dark, overwhelmingly sophisticated Italian man who speaks little English and has impeccable manners, the kind of man who opens doors for you and calls you cara mia and smells like the inside of a Ferragamo boutique.

This cardigan is the softest, best knit sweater in my closet. It fits like a dream. And while it came neither with a sophisticated Italian man nor trip to the Almafi coast, I love it all the same.

Pajamas in public: The end of civilization as we know it

This weekend I've attended to my usual activities: Listening to my children fight over the Wii controller, catching up on my favorite blogs, and doing my grocery shopping for the week. I was reviewing my shopping list in Wal-Mart when I nearly smacked into a fellow shopper. On first glance, she seemed a lot like me: A suburban housewife-type, counting her coupons and pushing a cart loaded with sugary cereals and juice boxes. However, that's where the similarities ended. Because this middle-aged, harried woman was wearing pajamas and slippers. In public.

I was thinking about this woman when I watched an infomercial for what might be the most terrifying, visionary product of our time. I am referring to Pajama Jeans. I was introduced to these specimens through this purely professional, highly polished, not at all cheesy video. In short, Pajama Jeans are $40 sweatpants masquerading as jeans. According to their website, they have "high contrast stitching, brass rivets and an unbeatable fit" and they're made of "dormisoft fabric (95% cotton, 5% spandex) that doesn't tug or bind" and "is as soft as cotton." They also feature "real designer details...like pockets!" (When are pockets "designer details"?) Watching the infomercial, we are to believe that Pajama Jeans can take us from slumber to "lunch with the girls" with nary a glance (unlike traditional pajama bottoms, which would cause social rejection and desperate phone calls to Clinton Kelly of What Not To Wear.) 

Listen up, people: It's time to put down our sleepwear and start wearing real clothes in public. I believe that the type of people who buy Pajama Jeans are those who find it too challenging to wear regular old jeans (or even jeggings, which feature actual zippers, functional pockets and belt loops.) This perplexes me, because jeans are what most people wear when everything else seems too complicated. And why do our clothes need to be so soothing that, if we were to suddenly become narcoleptic, we could fall asleep in them without nary a pinch or zipper getting in the way? Are we that lazy that we can't button on some damm pants in the morning? From sweatpants to the Snuggie to footed pajamas, does America really need another piece of clothing to seduce us into spending more time on the couch? I understand that feeling of warmth and security you had when you would wake up on a Saturday morning in your footy pj's and sit in front of Tom and Jerry cartoons while your mother poured you a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and catered to your every whim. No responsibility, no ambition, just the pure, mindless pursuit of pleasure.

But, in my opinion, if you can't get out of your pajamas to go out of the house, and have to buy pajamas that look like jeans, then don't leave the house. But that's just me. I spent the day catching up on Hoarders and playing Mousetrap with my kids, but even I managed to coordinate my tights with my thermal.

What do you think about Pajama Jeans?  Am I nuts for finding them...questionable?

Thrifted Ann Taylor chambray shirt; American Eagle thermal, thrifted Old Navy corduroy skirt; J Crew tights; Target socks; Frye boots; thrifted Fossil belt; Plato's Closet leather bracelet

Gwyneth Paltrow, motherhood, and Brenton stripes

There is absolutely nothing glamorous about being a full-time mom. Unless, of course, you are Gwyneth Paltrow, the world's most perfect person.

Gwyneth is one of those celebrities you either love or loathe. I have no idea why she gets under my skin so deeply. She can seem a little holier-than-thou, educating us about the benefits of kelp, eastern medicine and sugar-free coconut water.She's featured in Vogue in practically a monthly basis, where they rave about her cutting-edge style, all-white marble kitchen, organic garden and perfect perfect blondeness.

Perhaps it should not have surprised me when I came across her insightful account of life as a mom, gleamed from her newsletter, Goop. Behold this description Gwyneth's oh-so-stressful day of going to the gym, singing a country song, and doing a phone interview.

I went up to arouse the little man from slumber and he quite happily got up and crawled into my arms. We got downstairs and I made him a quick breakfast of eggs and toast followed by a spoonful of lemon flavored flax oil that I try to remember to give them both every morning.

On a less manic day, this would be my couple of hours in the office to work on GOOP, come up with ideas, write/edit and go over scheduling, travel, whatever else I have going but I have no time so I just pop the old cabeza in to see if there are any deadlines or fires that need putting out. When I am given the all clear I rush out the door, headed to rehearse with a band to prepare for the Country Music Awards which are just a week away. I've never performed live before so I'm preparing for this as if it were the Superbowl, which, in it's own way, it is. I've been having voice lessons with my teacher, Carrie Grant, every day and rehearsing with an amazing London-based band. This will be my fourth and shortest rehearsal of the week, as the day is so full, but I am excited to get in there and see everyone. Had to do my vocal exercises/warm-ups in the car, sooo not a good look. Fellow drivers looked on a bit bewildered. Rehearsed with the band from 11:30 to 12:30 and then scooted back out to the car and had kind of a big interview on the phone while trying to subtly check/reply to well-overdue email. Got home and had a fitting with super stylist Elizabeth Saltzman for the upcoming Nashville trip (what to wear, what to wear?) from 1-2. This is my 4th out of 5 fittings for this trip. We tried on a myriad of dresses and outfits, and I had b.o. by the end of it from wrestling with all of those dresses. I have six looks I need to choose for the trip; there's the radio press conference upon arrival, the red carpet for the Country Strong premier, press interviews, a Sony Music VIP dinner, the red carpet for the CMA's and the outfit for my performance! We manage to finalize all of the looks for the (very nerve wracking) trip. At 2 pm I head into my office with a nice cup of tea for two hours of phone interviews. I am doing lots of these this week, but today's session is only two hours. I call country radio station after country radio station speaking to some of the nicest and friendliest DJ's on the planet. Thursday is the one day of the week that I do not pick my kids up after school. They go straight to an activity and I am able to really maximize work stuff. I always feel a bit guilty (obviously) about it, but it means I can focus fully on them when they get home instead of trying to do two things at once.

The kids indulge in a super sugary cupcake before bed but I don't feel too bad because they had a brown rice stir fry for dinner with baked sweet potato on the side. It's all about balance! My night to lay with Mosey so I tuck Apple in, say a prayer and go into Mosey's room for a story, foot massage and quiet time. As soon as all was quiet, I rushed downstairs to grab a blazer and some blush and flung myself in the car for girls night. Lovely dinner and great conversation. 11:29 pm now, exhausted and ready to do it all again tomorrow!

So, lots of insight into the glamorous world of motherhood. Let's contrast this with my average day as a mom. Notice the similarities:

Awoke at 6 am with my makeup still on. Dragged myself into the shower, washed up with the sliver of Dove soap my husband so kindly left me. Applied my Cover-Girl foundation and picked out an outfit constructed of pieces dug up from the sale section at the Gap and Goodwill. Chiseled my kids out of bed and fed them a nutritious breakfast of chocolate and frosted Cheerios while Spongebob blared in the background. Got into an argument with my twins regarding why they could not wear their underwear to school and have three breakfasts, and with my daughter concerning the need to drag a brush through her hair because it resembles a rat's nest. Prepared bologna-and cheese sandwiches for their lunch. After driving them to school, I returned home for a cup of non-organic, non fair-trade coffee prepared with full-fat half-and-half. The I wrestled with chores: sweeping the floors, searching for errant Legos that hide under furniture; made the bed; ran and emptied the dishwasher; and folded a load of laundry that was eating my bed.

In the afternoon I ran chores, including grocery shopping at the Wal-Mart. I  grab coffee or lunch with one of my non-celebrity mom friends, where we gripe about how to deal with toddler tantrums, the lack of a sex drive, and the latest Oprah-recommended novel. Then I picked up the kids from school where I learned that Jake got in trouble for dancing in class and Josh had a breakdown because some kid ripped the pom-pom off the top of his winter hat. We got home and I tried to catch up on blogging while attempting to shut out the bleep-bleep-bleep of Super Mario Brothers blaring on the Wii. I paid some bills, writing checks for the electric bill, our credit cards, and the late payment to the landscape guy who ripped us off. Then came dinner. I whipped up nuclear-orange boxed mac and cheese for the kids, and chicken enchiladas constructed from canned sauce, store-brand cheese and a pre-cooked, pre-seasoned, antibiotic-plumped chicken. The kids struggled through their homework - no private tutors for us! I always feel a bit guilty, obviously, but that's how we roll. Then I tried not to fall asleep while catching up on episodes of The Real Housewives of Whatever City They're Filming In. I'm busy, is what I'm saying. I'm no movie star. I'm just me.

So you can understand the need for me to forgo couture evening gowns and designer pieces gifted from Stella McCartney for Brenton stripes and thrifted cords.

Ann Taylor Loft denim shirt; American eagle striped shirt; thrifted J Crew cords; Bruno Magli booties; Forever 21 coat; Forever 21 studded belt, Forever 21 rhinestone earrings.