Fashion DON’T: What people are wearing in New Jersey

Today, was a fashion ‘don’t’ BONANZA!  Can I just say, I risked life and limb this morning, and even got punched by Joey, but I had to bring these to you.

You can thank me (or not) later.

Today was our first full day in Jersey and our last day with Joey before we need to drop him off at school.  Having lost a day to Hurricane Irene, we were madly rushing about trying to complete our errands, which included a 3 hour visit to the Verizon kiosk at Quaker Bridge Mall, style mecca of Central Jersey.

I spied the first fashion faux pas, a brilliant realization of one of my major pet peeves, as we were looking for a parking spot at the scenic QB Mall — we drove right past it, and, as we came around the other way, parked, and got out, I pointed it out to Joey.  He immediately discerned my intent.  “Oh, my God, Mom, don’t you dare.  If she sees, she could take out a firearm and kill you.”

We all headed to the same entrance, the three of us naturally falling in behind the lady in question.  Joey shot me a warning glance, and then, lockstep with his father, overtook her.

I saw my chance.  Now out of view of not only my subject, but also my reproving husband and son, I reached into my bag for my camera and turned it on.  As I raised it, I realized we were approaching the entrance, with its reflective glass doors.   Not good.

I discreetly lowered the camera until we were through the doors and then, quickly, stepped up and snapped it.  Perfect.  Joey fell into step with me just as I lowered my camera, and punched me in the arm.  “I can’t believe you did it!” he whispered, with a wide grin on his face.

Tell me if you think it was worth it:

Anything I say would be just too mean. I'm just asking myself, 'how does this stuff happen?'

Here’s a close-up:

Ugh. 'Nuf said.

I’ve written about the whole ‘it’s called UNDERwear for a reason’ thing, and don’t want to repeat myself.

I now realize, there are two types of the ‘underwear as outerwear’ crimes.

One is the deliberate, “I’m trying to be sexy and can’t spell ‘skank'” approach.  This is the woman who is wearing sexy undergarb, and an audience of one just ain’t enough for her.  She wants the whole world to know she’s woman enough to shop at Victoria’s Secret.

Then, there’s this.  I’m looking at the photo and trying to get into this woman’s head.  Did she simply not notice she wasn’t properly dressed before she left the house?  Did no one ever tell her that  one’s underwear is private?  That it’s immodest and inappropriate to have a really large chunk of your foundation undergarment available for public consumption?

Or, and I think this might be saddest of all — does she not care what she looks like?  Or care about modesty?

Please, girls.  This is a fashion ‘don’t’ not because I want to poke fun at this woman — this is a fashion ‘don’t’ because I want to implore you to avoid this.  It is awful because it implies that you no longer care about putting a reasonable face forward, that you hold yourself in little regard, that you have lost hope.

And, if you ever find yourself knowingly in this situation, and not caring — get thee to a therapist for antidepressants, pronto.  You have bigger problems than just visible underwear.

This is also a compelling argument for always carrying a light cardigan with you.  And never leaving the house without a quick glance at your rear view.  Those two things, especially in tandem, can rectify any number of style sins and save you from falling victim to a blogging shrew.

As if that weren’t enough, after lunch, we headed to Sports Authority to stock up on athletic garb.  While we were at it, we came across this.  I asked Joey to model, which he willingly did.  I say, Marcus Schenkenberg has got nothin’ on him.  Keep in mind, not even  Marcus the Supermodel could make these look good.

Strike a pose,

There's nothing to it...

Please keep in mind, someone manufactured these to be SOLD.  When we encountered these, my jaw dropped.

I wanted to fall down on my knees with my hands covering my face and cry out, Gollum-like, “Oh, my eyes.  The pain!  It burnnsss!!!”

These are a CRIME.  Not just against style, or fashion, but against all seeing humanity.

They are so ugly, that to call them ugly is an insult to ugly things.

Whoever designed these and then greenlighted their manufacture should be  SHOT.  Summarily.  No jury, no trial.  Any proceeds from the sale of these garments should be donated to the seeing.  And, there should be an immediate recall of these items with a sharp admonition to the purchasers and a generous cash rebate to remedial fashion school.

Who would wear these?  Unless there’s a clown school nearby, I couldn’t fathom who on earth these could be sold to.

Then, I realized.

We’re in New Jersey.

And, before anyone goes, ‘Hey, that’s not fair!” I’ve got two words for you.

Jersey Shore.

Last breakfast

We all got up this morning to have breakfast with Andrew and Sam, as we won’t be seeing them again until we get back.  It was a nice breakfast, full of jokes and laughter — mostly because we realized, Joey looks just like an Angry Bird.  Check out the eyebrows.

This would be the perfect time to cue the sound an Angry Bird makes, but alas, no audio.

As we were kissing them and sending them out the door, I gave Sam a big hug and said, “Behave.  And listen to your older brother.”  (Yeah, right.)

Behind her, I saw Andrew’s face light up.  ‘Big brother!  I’ve never gotten that before!” he chortled, before happily giving me a big teddy hug and marching off to school, proud in his newly anointed role.

The Last Supper

As Hurricane Irene batters the Northeast coast of the US, she has left those of us with plane tickets to said area, wringing our hands over cancelled flights.  We do now appear to have seats on the 4 pm flight tomorrow, (contingent on it actually taking off),but regardless, we’re still breathing a bit easier.  It would be a shame for Joey to miss Orientation.

Irene’s silver lining, however, is one last Family Day dinner with the Tsiens and the Koos and all the little cousins all together.    We had Sandwich Day, of course.

Hard to believe Joey’s ready to leave the nest.

Anyway, it was nice to have one final chance to all get together before we take off to drop Joey at school.  The little cousins seemed to have a good time.

Sam, the baby whisperer. All the cousins, rapt.

Valerie even brought a delicious chocolate sponge cake to celebrate both Joey’s impending new status as Man-About-Lawrenceville, as well as Andrew’s belated birthday.  While Maxim’s does a fabulous Devil’s Food chocolate cake, they apparently refuse to decorate.  Val and Sam spent some time hiding out in the kitchen when they first arrived, improvising.  Here are the results:

Marshmallows -- not just delicious and nutritious -- the stuff of artisanal cake decorating, too.

Here are some more commemorative photos of the evening:

First, the 'noo-cu-lar' family.

Everybody together now.

Funny photo -- love how the bratty sister is using the baguettes as a gigantic version of that standard of all bratty sisters -- bunny ears.

If Joey doesn't watch it, his face is going to permanently freeze in that expression.

that's a bit better.

The prodigal son and the people who hatched him.

Sibling love. 30 seconds before Sam is arrested for the attempted murder of her brothers.

 

Would you like a side of irony with that?

Seeing as how it’s the beginning of the new school year, and I am, as yet, fresh and unjaded and still receptive to the missives from school, I took the time to thoroughly read (okay, perhaps not thoroughly) the letters from both the headmaster and the head of Secondary.  Lucky for you (debatable), because if not for that, this post would not exist.

In his first weekly letter of the school year, Mr. Alexander introduces a new member to the Secondary Pastoral Team, a new and highly experienced guidance counselor, Dr. Ann Mok, who, I am certain, is a warm and lovely person.  I very much look forward to meeting her and celebrate the addition of her role to the Secondary pastoral team.

After having lobbied for some time now, in my previous role as a PTA member, for just such a position and person, I am absolutely thrilled we have a new guidance counselor.

After giving a brief biography of Dr. Mok and discussing her role in working together with homeroom teachers and Heads of Years, Mr. Alexander further writes:

“The counselor is an additional support to help guide and celebrate the positive and rapid growth of our students from childhood through the teen years, in the exciting  stage of adolescence.  Parents are welcome to contact the counselor at amok@blahblahblah.edu.hk  (the blahblahblah is not the real address.)

amok.  For guidance counseling.  I LOVE it.  You can’t make this stuff up!

 

 

Before my son leaves, a little advice.

For those of you who were curious as to Joey’s fate on Monday — he managed to stay the whole day at school — not undiscovered, but teachers seemed happy to have him around.  He only managed to make it to one history class though — he ran cross country in the morning with his friends (actually, walked it in with his friends), but then ran it in earnest in the afternoon with the other half of Y11 and surprise of surprises, came in first!

How come he couldn’t turn in that type of performance when he was actually a STUDENT?

This last week of having Joey resident at home has felt pretty normal — but, I know that that normalcy is masking a growing sense of dread of having him leave.  I have been like the proverbial ostrich with my head buried in the sand, in total denial of impending heartbreak.

Someone asked me, ‘What is the one piece of advice you’d give your son before he leaves?’

As a mother, about to push her baby out of the nest, whose relationship to her child is going to change in an enduring and immutable way, I cannot distill the things I want him to know into one piece of advice.  There’s so much I want  to tell him before I let him go.

In no particular order here are a few:

(Let’s hope he reads the blog.)

Take advantage of this opportunity that’s been given you.

Do right by people.  Go out of your way to be kind.

Understand that there are bad people out there.  Keep your wits about you.

Don’t borrow money.  If it’s absolutely necessary, make sure you pay it back.

Be generous.

Value your good name and reputation.  What you can gain by lying, cheating, stealing or by being a jerk can never be greater than what you lose.

Don’t make promises lightly.  If you say you’re going to do something, follow through.

Be punctual.

Learn patience.

Eat good food.  Junk food is okay, but only sometimes.

Exercise.

Exercise common sense.

Don’t do drugs.

It’s okay to not make your bed, sometimes, but please wear clean underwear.

Don’t take anything for granted.  No one owes you anything.

Don’t whine.

Solve your own problems.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Appreciate what you have.

Don’t take advantage of people.

Don’t be wasteful.

Work hard.

Be a good sport.

Celebrate the good stuff.

Share.

Look both ways before crossing the road.

Know how to have fun.  Just not too much, when you’re supposed to be working.

Keep in mind that anyone you date is someone’s daughter or sister.  Treat her accordingly.

Be humble.  Modesty is underrated.

Be confident.  Know how to fake it, when you’re not.

Have a sense of humor.  Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Accept that sometimes, you’re going to be wrong.

Don’t burn bridges.

Be courteous and considerate.  To everybody.  Especially to people who serve you and to those less fortunate.

Say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

Challenge yourself.

Give back to your community.

Don’t drink and drive.

Know when and how to apologize.  And also, how to forgive.

Don’t gossip.

Be curious about the world.

Find out who you are and what you stand for.

Know who your friends are.  And understand, not everyone has to like you.

Learn where to draw the line.

Think for yourself.  Don’t jump to conclusions.

Have the courage to stand up when necessary.

Be open-minded.  Try new things.

If it’s important to you, don’t give up.

Ask good questions.

Know when to keep your mouth shut.

Understand that life is complicated.

Give people the benefit of the doubt.

Be passionate about something.

If you get your heart broken, understand that it will get better.

It’s okay to make mistakes.  And to fail.  Just try to avoid those things during final exams.

Know that your parents love you.  But, if you do something stupid, we will get angry.

Know that you can always come home.

Joey’s Fake First Day

So, although Joey is headed off to Lawrenceville next week, in the tradition of all former CIS students off to boarding school, this morning, he donned his old uniform and brazenly got on the bus to go to school to see his friends and see how many classes he could crash before being found out.

“Hiding in plain sight”, he called it.

He’s been talking about doing this since the first day he knew he was going away.

We still haven’t heard from him, so, assume he’s still successfully undercover.

Hiding in plain sight.

And, just for a little walk down memory lane — here they are the first year Sam started at CIS.

Why can't they stay little forever?

 

 

 

First Day of School

So now, officially, all the Koo kids are in Secondary.  How did that happen?  I swear, there’s gotta be a little one in the house, somewhere.

And then, there were two.

How can these kids be my babies???

No wonder I crawled back into bed after taking these photos.  Pillow over my head, the whole deal.    If you can’t arrest time, at least you can try to avoid reality.

More on Macmahan Part I

Lots of photos of Macmahan that I’d love to share — anyway, a post of mostly pictures, with some commentary.

The waters surrounding Macmahan are positively glacial — meaning that it is actually torturous and painful to immerse yourself in them —  so much of the entertainment of being there revolves around getting people to either get brave enough or stupid enough to jump in.  I think you have to be a little bit of both, frankly.  My boys seemed to have both qualities in fairly equal measure, as they seemed to revel in the experience.

The baptism was off the dock in front of our cottage.

playing with very large sea kelp -- and prudently avoiding the water.

REALLY big. we wondered if we could make salad from it. it would have fed the whole extended family.

Gayle was the only sister intrepid enough to jump. But Joannie is always game for a photo.

Can I just say — when Gayle jumped in, her screams probably could be heard all the way over on the mainland.  As Joey says, it’s so cold, it burns.  I made it as far as trying to stick my feet in — the instant my soles contacted the water’s surface, I think my bowels violently retracted up towards my trachea, causing week-long, uhhh, problems which no amount of fiber seemed to counteract.

Joey, maniacally plotting, well, something

Negotiating the terms of immersion. Or, Andrew, being apprehensive.

There were some funny fits and starts.  Like, when all three of the big boys decided to go in at the count of three — Andrew chickened out at the final second, when it was too late for Joey to halt his forward trajectory.  This had the consequence of causing Andrew to fear for his welfare and future existence, once his brother managed to haul himself back onto the dock.

Or, when Nicky, made an independent and unannounced decision to jump into the water, after adamantly repulsing all goading and inducements.   Imagine our surprise when he just walked over to the edge and jumped; imagine HIS surprise when he hit the water.  The look on his face when his head resurfaced was absolutely priceless — a combination of stunned terror and shock, overlaid with an unmitigated desire on a cellular level to vacate the water.

Recovering enough to laugh in the face of sheer folly

On the very same day at high tide, we also walked over to East Floe Beach to jump off the bridge into the water there.  There’s sort of a ‘gluttony for punishment’ thing going on here, because, let me say this again, it’s REALLY COLD.  The kind of cold that shocks you back into your pre-historic biological self with only the rudimentary use of a brain stem and limbic system, whose sole, overriding instinct is to GTFO.

a view on the walk to East Floe Beach

another one

walking over together. john is hoping against hope he can avoid going in.

contemplating the jump

letting joey and philip test the waters first

on the count of three...

there always seems to be a lot of discussion before a jump

getting into position

suckahhh!

Uncle john displaying the swimming form that had him into the water last, but OUT of it first. Notice Uncle Brad's leisurely backstroke. Those guys from Vermont have no cold sensors.

now for the girls' turn

there they go!

As we were walking back, we passed a cottage.   ‘Cute sign’, I thought and snapped a pic.

very witty

This is the retirement cottage of a former math teacher.  Funny, huh?

Okay — this is long enough — let’s get this posted, and I’ll start on Part Deux.

Five Islands

It’s 4:35 in the morning here in Hong Kong;  I’m uncertain whether I am awake because of jetlag, or because of insomnia.

Having gone to bed around midnight, I’m fairly certain it’s not because I have slept my fill.

It’s very tranquil, however, to be the only one awake in the house; Joey, Andrew, Sam, George, all deeply wound in their shrouds of sleep.

It’s probably a good time to catch up on posts.  I owe you a few on Maine.

This is now our third time up to MacMahan — our first visit was a few years back, and then, last year, as well.  It’s starting to feel like a regular thing.

How lucky we are.

As we drive up to Maine, we set our GPS to Five Islands, ME, knowing there is lobster, and family,  at the end of our journey.  Five Islands Road is about 11 miles long from where we access it, a long stretch of two-lane road which winds past picturesque waterways, old ironwork bridges, charming and tiny little cemeteries with old, crooked, weathered tombstones;  there are stretches of woods dotted throughout with well-scrubbed, stalwart  clapboard and shingled homes, all bathed in the late afternoon sunlight.

For us, it comes at the end of a long road trip.  The car is littered with the detritus of long-eaten Werther’s candy wrappers, and wayward Cheez-it crumbs.  It’s with a sigh of relief that we roll into the gravel lined parking lot of the Five Islands lobster shack, find a parking space and tumble out onto the dock, the kids immediately heading toward the rocks and clambering about like so many puppies, thrilled to be released from the confines of the car.

The view from the rocks by the parking lot.

Just a shot I liked.

Here come the rest of the family!

love the nautical knots

something about a boat

lots of sea birds hanging around -- most of them fat

Getting to know Five Islands

Looking forward to lobster.

Waiting for lobster can take many forms

Three generations.

Nothing like a frosty root beer on the docks. While waiting for lobster.

sisters on holiday

watching over the whole broody mess

Uncle John, elbows deep in lobster

 

What we wait all year for. One of the best meals on earth.

My favorite shot of the evening -- what are they saying?