Jenifer Monroe's blog

I can't remember exactly when I first heard Jenny talking about her minty pits, but I do recall it getting my attention.  We were on the phone, and she was online, checking email maybe, when I heard her suck in all her breath and exclaim, "OMG, they're selling my deodorant again!  Minty pits!"

I don't recall exactly how I stumbled across Etsy.com about three years ago, but I do remember clicking from one lovely handmade item to the next, amazed at the choices and the prices.  I felt a little guilty about my first purchase, two necklaces and a hairpin from foundling, because they cost me less than a tank of gas.  Same is true of the earrings that I wear every single day: a pair of handmade silver hoops that cost a whopping $12.  I'm a wannabe crafter,and the one time I made items to sell (button magnets), I think I figured that with materials and labor, I should charge, oh, about twenty bux a magnet.  And that's not even with the surcharge for the hot glue gun damage I did to my fingers.  Whoops. 

I need to confess something: even though I write here at Beauty Hacks, I'm not so accomplished in what I call the "Girly Arts."  I cannot wield a curling iron or use hairspray.  Lip liner, French braids, manicures -- they all sort of scare me.    

I went to the salon last Friday thinking I'd have my shoulder length hair cut into a bob.  A really short bob; Amalie style.  But, with no bangs.  Probably.  And my hairstylist (my friend Michele who has been cutting my hair since we were both about seventeen) tossed me a Short Hair Styles book while she finished up with the client before me.  "See if there's something you like in there," she said, "I'll be done in a couple minutes."  Partway through the book I found The Cut.  It was so stinkin cute; much shorter than I have ever worn my hair, but, you know, SO many women I know have really great short hair (Hi Susan and Karen and Eden), and so I said What the heck, threw all caution and inhibitions to the wind, and went for it.

I once fell in love in the vintage section in the back of American Rag in San Francisco.  The dress that called to me was sweet and simple; 1950's, red velvet, short sleeves, slightly full skirt.  Even though it was red - a perfect red, in fact - most shoppers might have passed it by because it wasn't looking for attention with anything fancy or showoffish.