... and you'll find that you're / In the Photogravure

If you blog like bird, you let the pictures do the talking. Let's try that, shall we?

The Buxoms went on a Disney cruise to the Western Caribbean.

Miss Buxom has always been a Minnie fan. And now Disney sells dresses for grown-up ladies that, while they are not official Minnie wear, are decidedly Minnie-esque. To buy one to wear to "formal night," was, for us, the work of an instant.

(For "formal night," Young Master Buxom wears his hair pulled back, and wears a shirt that isn't a vintage heavy metal concert tee. You're welcome, Disney "formal night" nazis.)

Here are Mr. Buxom and me on the beach on Grand Cayman. I'm wearing Lilly pants that used to not zip. Thank you, gym.

Lunch at Guy Harvey's Island Grill. They sell Cuban rum, so for Mr. Buxom to order a shot was, for him, the work of an instant.

Our second and only other port was Cozumel. We were supposed to explore the coral reefs, but due to rough weather, the excursion was cancelled. As you can see,

that didn't bother us very much.

We went on a margarita hunt instead.

 

The chips disappeared due to the deliciousness of the salsa, guacamole, and whatever the mysterious spicy brown liquid was. Please note the Hidden Mickey Margarita. Also that it was my second.

 Under all the food, I'm wearing J. McLaughlin pants--size 12, bitches! How did I do it?

This is me with my Personal Trainer, Matt. He kicked my ass during four PT sessions and two boot camps, which meant that I could zip up my pants without having to lie down on the bed. Wait, that sounded bad, didn't it. (Thank you, Matt.)

Finally, home again where I loaded up my last two Easter baskets. (The boy child will be at college next year, she sobbed.) Two years ago, the baskets were full of Parisian goodies. Last year, they were full of chocolate kangaroos and bilbies, thanks to a trip to Sydney. This year, they featured all kinds of Disney silliness.

Happy Easter, everybody!

p.s. Watch out for the coconut-flavored M&Ms. Your jeans will thank you.

Why I want to give my trainer a big, wet kiss on the mouth, or, Yes, it was cancer

Can you believe it? All these years of blogging, and I still don't have a solid technique for leading into a story. So I'll remind you of where we left off last time.

When we last spoke, I was about to head into the hospital for laparoscopic surgery on my right kidney. It was a modern day update of the old nursery rhyme:

Because she was trying to fit into smaller jeans, Poppy did hundreds of crunches.
Because of the hundreds of crunches, she developed lower abdominal pain.
Because of the pain, she got a CT scan.
Because of the CT scan, they discovered a mass.
Because of the mass, she had surgery.
Because of the surgery, she kicked cancer's ass.

I went into the hospital last Thursday at 11:00 in the morning, and went into the operating room at 12:30, floating on a white cloud of twilight sleep, with nary a care in the world. After two days, (the first of which was rather uncomfortable, the second much less so) I left the hospital. My insurance would have covered a third day, and if it hadn't been for my surgeon's dire warnings to escape the hospital's germiness as quickly as possible, I'd have hung out longer, basking in the attentions of the nursing staff and a seemingly limitless supply of red Jell-O.

I mean, what wasn't to like? I had had a perfectly lovely time with twilight sleep and general anesthesia. I remembered my nurses' names and everything everyone told me to do. I had two new audiobooks on my iPhone.

I also had two completely delightful new hardcovers to dive into: Jen Lancaster's latest novel, Here I Go Again, and Simon Doonan's Gay Men Don't Get Fat. My bed was comfortable, and I could adjust it to suit me and my incisions. The room was small, but exquisitely clean and decked with masses of flowers.

Most importantly (and this is key) nobody's emotional well-being or self-esteem would be affected by anything I'd say or do. The nurses and doctors and orderlies didn't mind that I was there; it didn't hurt them at their hearts to see me stretched out on a hospital bed. I didn't have to be brave for them or console them or act all siff-upper-lippy. Really, it was lovely. All I had to do was lie in bed, eat and drink, read my books, and fill up my Foley bag. (Catheter, to the uninitiated.) And I was up to the task.

But I went home a day early. To a much less tidy room and a dearth of red Jell-O.

Currently, I'm spending a lot of time propped up in bed so as to adequately communicate the message that I'm not, at present, the go-to person for clean blue jeans or hairdo assistance or homework help or really, much of anything at all.

Here's the thing. I have limited theatrical experience, but I realize with teenagers and husbands, it is all about the staging. If this means that I move around normally after everyone leaves, and only start reclining in bed when my children and husband reappear on the scene, so be it. If it means that I continue to wear pajamas and bathrobes long after I can get back into my clothes, so be it. I have to communicate the message that this is the time to be kind to one's mother or the wife of one's bosom.

So yeah, I'm acting a little drama queeny. Let this be our little secret, internet.

OK, then. Now for my surgeon's report. They removed a 2 cm tumor from my right kidney. Apparently, my surgery was a model of deft, elegant minimalism. The tumor was removed in its entirety, with a nice clean margin all around it, indicating that They Got It All.

When art historians start blathering about "negative space," is this what they mean? (Don't answer that--my pain meds are starting to kick in. If you couldn't tell.)

Anyway, the survival rate for very small, encapsulated tumors like mine is about 99 percent. My surgeon tells me that there's a pretty good chance that I'll live for another 50 years. (OK, I think he was flattering me, or maybe my colorist is doing an even better job than I thought. I don't really think it's reasonable to suppose that I'll still be here when I'm 106 years old. I'm thinking of sticking around for another 40, and even that's pushing it.)

In the meantime, I'm starting to think of myself as Poppy Buxom, Cancer Survivor! With all the kick-assery that that entails.

Vanity can save your life

Vanity gets a bad rap most of the time. Not around here, where it's all lipstick, all the time--but amongst other, less frivolous people. But vanity has its good points. For one thing, it can save your life.

You may remember that I spent last November blathering away about working out and dieting. I mentioned heading to the gym enough to have fully cemented my reputation as a fitness freak, or at least, a dedicated wannabe.

So along comes December, and in addition to the usual holiday travel and craziness, I'm trying to continue to work out. But I notice that after prolonged periods of standing, such as washing dishes or attending cocktail parties (or decorating the Christmas tree all by myself because my family is a bunch of heathen Grinches,) I was experiencing some pain in the lower left side of my abdomen. Sitting down made it feel better, but then I'd go to the gym, and it would start up again.

I tend to have a "shut up and quit whining" attitude about physical problems, but my husband does a lot of weight lifting, and he thought it might be a hernia. So I made an appointment with my doctor to have it checked out. He didn't notice anything conclusive, so he advised me to get a CT scan. What with Christmas traveling and the facility being pretty booked up, the first appointment I could get was two weeks away. And during those two weeks of traveling and not going to the gym, the pain disappeared. Naturally, I dithered around, and debated canceling the CT scan. Because I hate going to the doctor. But my husband and son told me to go in and have it done.

Have you ever had a CT scan? It's not fun. And after drinking iodine-flavored water for a few hours and having more injected into my arm and lying on a table passing through a pale green doughnut, I was determined never to complain about anything ever again.

And of course, it turns out that I don't have a hernia.

On the other hand, they discovered a small mass on my right kidney. (Which was not where I was feeling pain, and so was completely unrelated to what brought me to the doctor's office in the first place.) So I went to a urologist who advised me to have it out. Apparently, even if they're benign, these things just keep growing and eventually, it's a problem. And of course, if it isn't benign, it needs to come out pronto. (And chances are it's not benign. But it's very treatable with an excellent cure rate! Really.)

Apparently, the vast majority of kidney tumors are discovered while they're looking for something else. In fact, according to Wikipedia, medical professionals call them "accidentalomas." 

So anyway, tomorrow I'll be at the hospital under general anesthesia (YIKES!) having a robot-assisted (COOL!) partial nephrectomy.

Which is really kind of astonishing, when you realize that if I hadn't been trying to fit into size 12 jeans, I'd be happily asymptomatic ... until I wouldn't be.

Which just goes to show you--to appropriate from that slimeball Gordon Gecko, "Vanity is good!"

So anyway, that's why I haven't been blogging. It's just hard to get excited about lipstick and such when you have surgery scheduled.

Not that I won't be bringing a ton of products to the hospital. Because of course I will.

My emailbox is out to get me.

Is everyone else going insane from all the sales notices in their emailboxes? Or is it just me?

Between the sales notices and the cookies on my laptop (that appear to keep all of my selections permanently in every shopping cart I ever use on line), I've stumbled across some nice markdowns this weekend. I'm putting these up here in case anyone has something on their list that they'd like to order tonight.  Which, OK, is the next ten minutes. Anyway, this is where I was shopping.

J. Crew 

 

J. Crew's Bling Button cardigan, marked down from $72 to $59 to $41

I thought I'd missed out on a great J. Crew deal, because they were offering 25 percent off for Black Friday. At that point, I loaded up my shopping cart with some cute cardigans for my daughter, and then forgot to pull the trigger. Well, I went back to the site to discover that this weekend's sale--using the WINTER coupon code--was even better, with 30 percent off.

At the moment, it's back down to 25 percent off and free shipping.

Honestly, trying to keep up with on line deals is like telling time by looking at the second hand of a clock.

All I know is I got myself some button downs and my daughter the Bling Button cardigan for $41, marked down from $72.

Carson Pirie Scott

Carson's is offering 25 percent off everything in the store, and 10 percent off Beauty and Fragrance, with code FRIFAMNOV12. If you're interested in the Estee Lauder seasonal blockbuster or the Michael Kors/Estee Lauder collaboration, this is a good way to get it. 

This set features a cosmetics bag from Michael Kors, a compact blush with 3 shades of Pure Color Blush, a Pure Color Lipstick, a Pure Color Lipgloss, a Sumptuous Mascara, Intense Kajal Eyeliner and Pure Color Nail Color.

The Michael Kors set is available in three different colors, but each color is offered only by certain stores. Check out this post by GWP Addict for details.

Also, costume jewelry is on sale, which meant that I could pick out a cute Betsey Johnson necklace for my daughter.

Bloomingdale's 

OK, this is when it really got crazy. There was a combination of

• Free shipping on all on-line sales
• Loyalists receive double points
• Buy more/save more (10 to 30 percent off Women's, Men's, Home, Fashion Jewelry)
• Some kind of code they emailed me (X40936A7VCRK) for $25 off a purchase of $100 or more.

So I bought a bunch of clothes for my son--and a little wine cellar for Mr. Buxom--but you don't want to hear about them. I also picked up the Estee Lauder Blockbuster, because Santa likes to add these little goodies to the stockings she stuffs.

Estee Lauder's holiday blockbuster--better pictures and description available on Chic Profile.

Honestly, all I know is that it seems impossible to keep track of all these deals. It's worse than airline frequent flyer programs. All I know is that if I ever pay full retail for anything ever again, you can give me a good hard, internet spanking.

Merry Christmas shopping to all, and to all a good night!
 

My Sephora Birthday Mini-Binge, or, when Whoop! becomes Woot!

For the last day of NaBloPoMo, I'd like to move the subject away from dieting and working out. But you deserve a progress report on my fitness level before I discuss important subjects like makeup, shopping, and shameless self-indulgence, so here you go:

The Pie Report

On this last day of November, I tip the scales at a sylph-like 172.6, which, although not great, is slightly better than I deserve, considering the mountains of pie that have taken over my house. (Seriously, my son's girlfriend came over for our Thanksgiving dessert buffet bearing a freshly-baked apple pie, which means we had a total of five pies between eight people. But isn't that adorable?)

At any rate, with regard to pie, I am like the gentleman who, when asked why he climbed Mount Everest, answered "Because it is there." As in, why has Poppy eaten so much pie? BECAUSE IT WAS THERE.

Also, the gym has not really been my thing of late, because my daughter has contracted Pertussis WHOOP! which is the fancy way of saying she has whooping cough. WHOOP! And has been barking like a seal for almost a week. And this means that the entire family is on antibiotics, and I couldn't go to the gym today, WHOOP! because I'm quarantining myself.

So I went on-line shopping. I was determined to use the $20 off a $50 purchase gift card that Sephora sent me because I'm a V.I.B. (I can't remember what those initials stand for. But I think it means I spend too much money at Sephora.)

Anyway, check out the cornucopia of crappe Sephora will be sending me!

This is what I actually bought.

 

Behold the magnificence of the Too Faced Sweet Indulgence Palette ($52.00)

Too Faced Sweet Indulgence Palette

Not that I need sixteen eye shadows, two Blushes, two bronzers, a highlighter, an eye shadow primer, a brush and three instruction cards. But Too Faced's Natural eye palette is one of my favorites, because the colors and textures are gorgeous. So I decided it would be fun to try some more of their products. (My thoughts on the Natural eye palette are here, at the bottom of a long post in which I argue that you really only need four shades of eyeshadow. Irony in action, people!)

The palette costs $52, which got me just over the minimum to use my gift card and qualify for free shipping.

,
Then I cashed in 500 of my Sephora VIB points to get

Sephora Beauty Insider 500 Points--All Day Makeup Set

Which is a collection of various primers and has trial sizes of a few products I've been wanting to try, like Lancome's eyelash primer and Smashbox's face primer. 

And then, because my birthday is next month, I got

Birthday Gift--Fresh Sugar Kisses Mini Lip Duo

and then, using Sephora's LITTLELUX coupon code, I got this

Kat Von D Pouch + 14 samples

 

Plus three more free samples which you can grab every time you check out at Sephora, and really, why stop now?

First Aid Beauty Ultra Repair Cream

 

LADY GAGA FAME

MAKE UP FOR EVER HD Microperfecting Primer

All for $35.25.

It's obviously going to be a Sample-o-rama around here! W00t!

Two reds

This is what I mean when I say I'm a Christmas-themed-outfit dork of the purest dye. I just had to find a way to action some red today.

I ordered these Banana Republic cords in a fantastic mulberry color and was delighted with them. I don't think I'd bought a pair of cords since the manufacturers started adding a little spandex to every pair of pants being manufactured. Years ago, cords sagged and bagged and even worse, shrank horribly when I put them in the dryer. Either my legs have gotten shorter, or manufacturers have figured out to add a little extra fabric to factor in shrinkage. This is straight out of the packaging, and there's actually almost too much fabric breaking on top of my foot--hallelujah!

Banana Republic skinny corduroys in Saucy Red
Tory Burch Simone cardigan in black with gold buttons
Lafayette 148 white cotton shirt
Jimmy Choo Youth motorcycle boots

Inspired by Une Femme's recent post about red lipstick, I also decided to deploy some red lipstick, as that would be fashion-forward and not at all Christmas-season-dorky, no sir.

Boots No 7 Restore and Renew serum (discontinued; similar)
Dr. Jart+ Premium Beauty Balm SPF 45
Maybelline Age Rewind concealer (discontinued)
Benefit Dandelion blush
Lancome Definicils mascara
Chanel Holly lipstick (discontinued)

What I wore today--featuring Stuart Weitzman Arlington Boots

Confession time: I read a lot of preppy style blogs, but I'm not really the Southern Prep/All Lilly All the Time/Pink and Green type. I'm more the "High WASP" type that LPC blogs about.

I grew up in New England where you wore Lilly in the summer--maybe because it reminds you of family vacations to places where it's warm all year round. You would break out your sun dress printed with monkeys drinking piña coladas and your husband would wear four-paneled Brooks Brothers "Fun" pants. You were on vacation, and this is how you signaled to the world that you knew how to enjoy yourselves.

But my people did not live where it's warm all year round. We deal with serious amounts of winter weather. The verb "to summer" only has currency in places where summer is a brief respite in an otherwise chilly climate. And therefore, I have an atavistic love of cotton turtlenecks worn under wool sweaters, plaid, camel hair coats, duffle coats--basically, the whole L. L. Bean-cum-Brooks Brothers vibe.

I try to fight it. I try to be Prep With an Edge, as blackbird puts it. But as soon as it gets near Christmas, all bets are off. I pull out my Christmas socks, jewelry, and scarves. I go mad for plaid. I even start trolling the internet for the Winter Wonderland prep wear of my childhood. Does L. L. Bean still make Norwegian sweaters? Where are the Tyrolean jackets and Fair Isle sweaters d'antan? Mostly gone.

Which is maybe just as well. I went to a holiday boutique recently in Lake Forest, Illinois, which is the epicenter of preppiness in these parts. And I ordered myself a pair of these.

Needlepoint loafers by By Paige

And in my internet trolling, I came thisclose to ordering myself a pair of these

Beachcomber Corduroys at Castaway Clothing

And if I had, I probably would have worn the loafers with the cords. No, really.

But then I noticed the cords were bootcut. Pffft! I might have standard boring preppy taste in preppy holiday attire, but I draw the line at buying a pair of bootcut cords, because hello? Out of style. OK, I realize I'm being ridiculously inconsistent.

Anyway, today's outfit was an attempt on my part to show you my new boots, which meant wearing a skirt. And I picked out one that is plaid, and warm and cozy, because this morning, it got below freezing for the first time this season. And then--well, I tried to rein in this Christmas-crazed tradition-loving northeast prep part of my personality, I really did. You can let me know whether you think I succeeded.

Fuzzy black watch plaid skirt, Talbot's last season (similar), navy cotton Bailey cardigan, Vineyard Vines, gray scoop neck t-shirt, Gap, gray wool blend tights, Vermont Country Store, black nappa boots, Arlington by Stuart Weitzman

Here's how Talbot's styled the skirt last year.

See how fuzzy?

Gold pendant and eBayed Hermes bangle. Hey, at least I'm not wearing pearls.

Here's a back view of the boots--sorry about the graininess. I was trying to show the elastic.

For outside, I added my Brooks Brothers leather trench and some Nordic glittens (what J. Crew calls fingerless glove/mittens) I found these in Lake Forest, which means they're preppy.

It's not every day you see a Chanel bag combined with mittens!

Sigh.

I've come to the conclusion that if I think I've escaped my roots? I'm sadly mistaken.