Pink for Boys and Blue for Girls?

I spend a lot of time trying to decide whether a particular color palette is "right" for a baby boy or baby girl.  Not surprisingly, my sweaters for girls tend to include shades of pinks, and my sweaters for boys have various shades of blue.  So I was fascinated by this article from smithsonian.com describing the evolution of gender-specific clothing.

I was particularly interested to learn that, not only did boys in the 1800s wear dresses until about age 7 (that's future president FDR in a white dress and party shoes below), but that blue was traditionally reserved for little girls and pink for little boys. The reason was that pink was viewed as a stronger color, better for boys, and blue was thought to be more delicate, so more suited to girls. The colors didn't reverse until the 1940s, when manufacturers and retailers determined that consumers "preferred" the colors the other way around.

I've often thought about offering a blue sweater for girls, but I'd probably dress it up with a ruffle or flower buttons or some other more feminine trim. But I'm having a harder time envisioning a pink sweater for little boys, even with fire truck or dinosaur buttons. I see lots of men wearing pink shirts (and think they look pretty sharp), so why no pink for little boys? Does anyone dress their little boys in pink in 2012?

(photo courtesy of smithsonian.com)

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

I almost broke up with Target this weekend. We’ve been teetering on the brink for a while now. When I first started shopping at Target, I was in love with the innovative products, the clean stores, the wide aisles lined with neatly arranged merchandise, and—perhaps most of all—the smiling, happy people sales associates, who were eager to walk to the other side of the store to show me where to find the obscure brand of whatever I happened to be looking for.

But lately, the fairy tale has been much darker. Particularly in the D.C. area, the stores are always a mess, the lines are long, and the people who work there are apathetic at best and more often outright surly. Yesterday, as I tried to maneuver a cart with a broken wheel through a store that looked like a tornado had just blown thrown, I was ready to throw in the towel for good. “If I can’t get it online,” I thought to myself, “it’s not worth having.”

Then . . . I wheeled the cart around the corner and came face to face with the vintage-esque Mountain Dew T shirt I’ve been looking for forever. (Yes, I admit to having an unhealthy relationship with Mountain Dew.) As I snatched up the T shirt, I was suddenly back in love with Target. And as I waited patiently, ninth in line to check out, I admired my new find, and all of the crowds and noise and confusion faded into the background.

It wasn’t until much later that I paused to ask myself: “Am I really that fickle?” Guess so!  Should I be ashamed of myself?

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again"

Last night I went to a screening of the classic movie "Rebecca" at the National Theater as part of the "Dial H for Hitchcock" summer movie series.  "Rebecca" is one of my all-time favorite books, and I love the movie as well (the creepy Mrs. Danvers always gets under my skin!).  I hadn't seen the movie in a while, so it was fun to see it again and to watch the reactions of people seeing it for the first time. 

But truth be told, I was pretty disappointed in the overall experience.  I love seeing old movies in grand old theaters (many of which (not the National) were actually originally movie houses).  But instead, the movie was shown in a long skinny gallery on a tiny screen.  I could barely see the screen, and the plastic patio chair I was sitting on wasn't terribly comfortable.  Plus, the guy sitting next to me was eating McDonald's and kept trying to talk to me during the first half of the movie. 

I hate to complain so much--I was just so bummed by the way things turned out.  They annouced before the movie started that they simply don't have the funds to show the movies in the main theater, much as they'd like to.  And I totally get that--I just wish it had been advertised as such so I'd known in advance what I was getting into before I left work early to be there.   And I wish they'd charge some nominal amount and turn these showings into a fundraiser so that at some point in the future they can show movies on the big screen.

All that said, I'll try to go to another showing this summer.  I hate, hate, hate when people complain but don't do anything to resolve a bad situation.  If the theater has strong support for the "Dial H for Hitchcock" series, maybe it will think more seriously about trying to raise the funds to move the movies to the mainstage.  Only next time, I'll get there earlier for a better seat.  Anyone in D.C. want to join me for "Dial M for Murder" in August?

Blast from the Past

This great print, available from The Photo Zoo takes me straight back to high school when mix tapes were a great gift idea--cheap and personal.

My friends and I all made mixes for each other.  I loved getting them and was always devastated when the tape eventually wore out or broke.  We decorated the inside of the cassette cases with pictures, magazine cutouts, and funny captions to make our own albums of sorts.

I remember mix tapes that reflected our collective high school angst.  There was lots of U2 ("How long, how long must we sing this song?"), Billy Joel ("I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints"), Pat Bentar ("Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better"), REO Speedwagon ("Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore"), Tears for Fears ("Everybody wants to rule the world"). 

But there was a lot of fun stuff too: Wham ("Wake me up before you go-go. Take me dancing tonight."), Culture Club ("Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams"), The Bangles ("Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh, walk like an Egyptian"). 

Playlists on iTunes are great, but they just don't have that same personality, do they?

Take a Back Road

Have you heard Rodney Atkins's new song, "Take a Back Road"?  This song really speaks to me.  I'm notorious for always wanting to take a back road, to see what's around the next bend or down that street, to get lost on purpose (how else do you find the really interesting stuff?).  I love driving around on a nice day, windows down, music turned up, Mr. Bullet in the back seat, just seeing what there is to see.  Who needs the highways when there's so much to see on the back roads? 

And it makes me wanna take a back road
Makes me wanna take the long way home

Put a little gravel in my travel

Unwind, unravel all night long

Makes me wanna grab my honey

Tear down some two-lane country

Who knows

Get lost and get right with my soul

Makes me wanna take

Makes me wanna take a back road.

Worth A Visit?

On the flight down here, I read an interesting article in AirTran's magazine about developing new tourism slogans.  The article was making the point that these slogans are really important but surprisingly tricky to come up with. 

The article got me thinking about city and state slogans that work and those that don't.  Arguably the most successful are: "I [heart] New York," "Virginia is for lovers," and "What Happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."  But what about the others?  It seems like they fall into a couple of basic buckets. 

Some simply describe the locale: "Wild and Wonderful" (West Virginia), "Smiling Faces, Beautiful Places" (South Carolina), "Pure Michigan," "It's Like a Whole Other Country" (Texas).

Others invite viewers to visit: "Your Florida Side is Calling," "Explore Minnestota."

Still others hint at what will happen if you visit: "Life Changing" (Iowa), "Unbridled Spirit" (Kentucky)

Others, frankly, don't make a lot of sense: "Kansas: As Big As You Think," "Live Like You Mean it" (Wisconsin).

I, personally, really like Mississippi's new slogan: "Find Your True South," though I wonder if people will pick up on the play on "true North." 

Which tourism slogans work for you, and which ones not so much?

Do What You Love

I've been struggling with some big life choices over the past week or so (hence my long absence from Inside the Yellow House!).  I saw this print on the Etsy front page this morning, and it really helped to put things into perspective.  Maybe it is that simple. 

You can see it for yourself (as well as some other words of wisdom) at Christen's Etsy shop, letterhappy.   

Remembering Papa

Remember these? Romper Stompers?! When I was little, I saw them on my favorite TV show, Romper Room, and I just had to have a set. Our local toy store didn’t sell them, but my beloved grandfather agreed that I had to have them, and he went from store to store until he finally tracked them down. I remember how excited he was to give them to me. Even today, in my mind, he is beaming as he watches four-year-old me stomp around the kitchen on those plastic yellow cups.

It was a small moment, but to me it really sums up my grandfather. He adored his grandchildren and would have done anything for us.

Papa died in 2000. Had he lived, today would have been his 100th birthday. Even 10 years later, I still miss him terribly. I miss staying at my grandparents’ house and jumping into bed with him in the morning. I miss seeing him waiting for me on the porch when we visited on Sunday afternoons. I miss going with him and my grandmother to the mall and visiting with their friends who all hung out there. I miss seeing him drive his great big Cadillac.  I miss how he couldn’t leave a message on my answering machine but wondered how I always knew that he had called (because I could hear him yelling to my grandmother, on the machine, “She’s not home.”).

I wish I still had those Romper Stompers, but I have so many wonderful memories.

Words to Live By

I saw this on Holstee's website this morning, and I love it.  Sometimes I get so caught up in the day-to-day madness of life that I forget about what's really important. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

On this day of gratitude, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported me in this little venture of mine.  Whether you've purchased my sweaters, given me useful advice, photographed the sweaters, loaned me your kids to model them, or just cheered me on from afar through your comments and general positive energy, I could not do it without you.  I am consistently awed by how wonderful everyone has been.  And I am profoundly grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones!

The Hills Are Alive

I'm proud to say (admit?) that I'm a die-hard Sound of Music fan.  Seriously.  Going on the Sound of Music tour in Salzberg, Austria, was one of the great experiences of my life.  I've seen the movie no fewer than nine bazillion times, and I always think it's as great as the first time I saw it.

So when my mother sent another one of her crazy email forwards that she trades with her friends, I was pleasantly surprised to find these nifty pictures (rather than some blessing that I have to send to eight friends in eight seconds or risk eight days of bad luck).  I'm a sucker for these kinds of cast reunions, so these were particularly exciting for me. 

How amazing for those seven "kids" to have been a part of something so . . . epic?!  That must be a great cocktail party story.  Or it's perfect material for those "two truths and a lie" games.  Let's see:  I'm afraid of spiders.  I went to Hawaii last year.  I was Marta in the Sound of Music movie. 

Anyway, hope you love these as much as I do! 

Love Is All Around

I think everyone is familar with the image of the LOVE sculpture with the tilted "o."  I've walked past it many times in New York, and I noticed it around Julianne Moore's neck in "The Kids Are All Right," but I didn't realize it was quite so ubiquitous.  Take a look:

The LOVE image was originally designed as a Christmas card for the Museum of Modern Art in 1964 and first exhibited as a sculpture in New York City in 1970.  The original sculpture has been on display at the Indianapolis Museum of Art since 1975:

The sculpture has since been reproduced many times and in many forms.  The sculptures can now be found all over the country (not to mention in jewelry, postcards, T shirts, and so on).  Here it is in LOVE Park in Philadelphia:

And on the campus of Wichita State University:

Back in New York City:

And up in Rockland, Maine:

It's even on display in Hebrew at the Israel Museum.  

At the risk of taking the words of my all-time favorite TV show in vain, "love really is all around!"

These Signs Always Make Me a Little Nervous

These signs are all over Hilton Head (and probably the entire southeast United States).  I've seen the alligators before, so I know they're not empty threats.  (And I've often wondered what kind of idiot would harass an alligator?!?!)  But the signs are posted right along the bike paths, and I'm always worried that I'll end up with a gator chasing after my bike.  I know I'm being neurotic, but still . . . ! 

New Entry in Urban Dictionary

Hit the slide: to quit one's job in truly stunning fashion.

I think everyone who has ever hated a job is secretly (or maybe not so secretly) cheering for Steven Slater.  The Washington Post is already predicting that the phrase "hit the slide" will be this generation's "blow this popsicle stand."

Lately I've been really waffling about whether to stay in my current job or look for a new one.  Maybe I should just hit the slide?!

Question of the Day

I took this picture in the cafeteria at my office.  It's a little bit hard to read, but the question is:

When, exactly, are fried chicken sliders "in season"?  June must be a particularly good time to take the chicken patties from the freezer and pop them into the deep fryer. 

Who knew?

Everything I Need To Know

Much More Than Mommy has a great post today about being jealous of her dog because her husband and kids are always happy to see the dog--even if they've had a bad day or the dog has made a mess on the carpet.  The lesson she ultimately reaches is:  "She [the dog] gives unconditional love and respect, so she gets unconditional love and respect."

Her post reminded me of the following bit of wisdom I see frequently in greeting cards and floating around the internet.  There are various versions, but this one is my favorite.  There's so much to learn from the simple world view of a dog. 


All I Really Need to Know I Learned from my Dog


Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Take naps and stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you're not.
Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
Thrive on affection and let people touch you--enjoy back rubs and pats on your neck.
When you leave your yard, make it an adventure.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout--run right back and make friends.
Bond with your pack.
On cold nights, curl up in front of a crackling fire.
When you're excited, speak up.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Smelly Markers

Do you ever stumble across something--an object, a smell, an image--that instantly transports you back to another time and place?  It's funny how the strangest things can evoke such powerful memories.

This morning I was in a client's conference room rummaging through a cabinet for a notepad and found a box of Mr. Sketch scented markers, which I knew as "smelly markers" in my elementary school days.  I LOVED those markers, and would often come home from school with a rainbow of marker smudges on my nose and upper lip from inhaling those non-toxic aromas. 

It's probably been 10 years since I've seen one of these markers, but one whiff of the baby-aspirin orange marker, and I was back in third grade, and my best friend Julie and I were coloring fruit shapes on our hands and arms with the hope of preserving the wonderful smells.  We would come home with more tatoos than Bombshell McGee.  My mother must have been so thankful they weren't permanent. 

What takes you back?

Home Sweet Home

For someone who doesn't like to travel that much, I have to travel a fair amount for work. I'm not one of those consultant-types who lives out of a suitcase Monday through Friday, but I do have to go away once or twice a month. The shorter trips are almost worse than the longer ones because they're so rushed--you barely get checked into the hotel, and you're packing up again.

This week I was in Indianapolis for a few days. As far as work trips go, Indy isn't so bad. It's a direct flight from National Airport, the client is pretty close to the airport, and the Conrad Hotel, where we stay, is quite lovely. But I still find traveling to be pretty stressful, and I miss the comforts of home.

There are certain routines of coming home that are so comforting to me. When I'm finally in my car leaving the the airport parking lot, as I get on the GW Parkway, I catch a glimpse of the Washington Monument across the river, and my heart always skips a beat. In that moment, I always think about how great it is to live in D.C. Then as I turn off Pennsylvania Avenue onto my street, I always look for something in the neighborhood to be different, like somehow maybe they built a whole new building in three days, and I'm always relieved and reassured when everything is exactly the same. When I'm finally inside, I flop down on the couch and look around at my little house, thinking about how I love every little detail, and just how GOOD it is to be home. I bask in the glow of being home until inevitably I catch something that needs to be handled (yesterday it was that the ceiling fan really needs to be cleaned), and I snap out of my reverie and back into the real world.

It's good to be home. As Dorothy famously said, "There's no place like home."

The Yellow House Mystery

I loved the Boxcar Children books when I was little.  I'm sure I read the entire series multiple times, but I probably read the original book dozens and dozens of times.  I was fascinated by orphans Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny Alden (and their dog Watch) and the life they created for themselves in the boxcar in the woods.

After they were rescued from life in the boxcar by their kind grandfather, the Boxcar Children went on to solve mysteries for the rest of the series, including a mystery about an old yellow house on Grandfather's property.  (Wonder why that one appeals to me today???)

The books have been reprinted several times since I read them in the early 80s, but the image to the left is exactly how I remember them.  Old books like this make me so nostalgic.  Other favorites: Nancy Drew (of course), Trixie Belden, the Meg mysteries, Encyclopedia Brown (clearly I had a thing for kid detectives), the B is for Betsy books, Betsy-Tacy (I also apparently had a thing for books about girls named Betsy), and Ramona.  And, of, course, I've written about my devotion to Anne of Green Gables before.

I think it's interesting that most of my favorites were not contemporary 80s books (like the Sweet Valley High books, although I read those too!), but they were books that were written decades earlier and withstood the passage of time.  I guess great books really are timeless.  I hope that when my niece is old enough to read that she'll be interested in reading these classics too.

Daily Happy

Once of my friends has a Facebook page on which she posts pictures of her "Daily Happys." Each day she takes a picture of one thing that made her happy that day. Sometime they're big things: the keys to a new car or Mickey Mouse at Disney World.  But more often they're smaller, everyday things: a sandcastle, a chocolate milkshake, even an empty in-box.

I think her Daily Happys are a really nice exercise--they force her to find some good in every day, even the particularly bad ones.

Well, here's MY Daily Happy for today: My beloved camellia bushes in my front yard are blooming!  The bushes, in various shades of pink, were planted shortly after I moved into my house a few years ago, and I've watched them bloom and grow every spring since them.  I just love the delicate pink flowers and the glossy green leaves.  But I was pretty sure they hadn't survived the February storms.  So when I saw them budding earlier this month, I got a bit hopeful.  And when I saw the flowers today, I was ecstatic.  Even if the blooms are less robust this year on account of snow damage, I am optimistic that they will continue to flourish for years.

Daily Happy.  Wonder what tomorrow will bring.