Victoria Elizabeth Barnes

Holiday gift guide— AND a giant fancy giveaway.

I hate getting presents.
It’s an extension of my fundamental hatred of surprises.

And if I want to extrapolate that to a deeper level of self-analysis: my hatred of surprises is actually a hatred of other people’s expectations.

I hate all surprises. At all times. From all people.
Unless you are giving me a kitten.

In which case, thank you. But I cannot accept it… I can only accept gifts of stray, elderly cats with medical issues.

However, since now is the time of year when we are socially obligated to participate in joyful gift-giving, and I am obligated by blogger code to speak of nothing but the holidays and how I graciously bring warmth and elegancy (not a word? Think again.) to every element… I decided to do a gift guide.

(If you’re only here for the shiny giveaway, you’d better just go ahead and scroll already.)

vintage christmas ads

a scale? let me know how that works out for you…  Ladies Home Journal, 1955 Colt ad, Joelle Jones

Wow. This is totally fascinating… keep reading.

Whoever said less is more… clearly never had enough more.

If you have been reading me for a while, you remember my giant pearl necklace of invincibility.

The way it works is that it is so giant and irritating, that the entire time you are wearing it you are distracted from anything that might give you anxiety, intimidate you, or make you feel less-than.

You will never wonder if people are judging you or looking at you weird, because they are.

But you get to decide what for.

DIY double pearl earrings… Dior knockoff and other giant pearl jewelry!

hanging out with Diana. I am the subtle one, incase you were confused.

*aside* I am so tempted to run the retouching brush over the corner of my eye where it is weirdly lumpy… but I am still debating how much of an ass I want the internet to allow me to become. *end aside*
Wow. This is totally fascinating… keep reading.

A manifesto against the tyranny of luxury kitchens.

Before the internet, you only had to keep up with the Joneses…  They were real people who lived next-door and probably drove a Corvette.

And even if you might have liked their car for yourself, you knew for a fact that they wore too much cologne, misused the word Machiavellian, and were just generally unlikable people who let their dog poop in everyone’s yard.

Wow. This is totally fascinating… keep reading.

When you assume your husband can help you sew DIY Christmas bows.

My original idea for how to make this bow was a simple piece of red ribbon… Perhaps you’ve heard of it?  Ribbon? A product that you can buy at the store that you do not need to craft in your workshop of craftiness?

But since I’m me, I decided to make my own! So I could give the bow contrasting red stripes! Fun! Like a Christmas tuxedo!  And it’s harder this way!

If something will take me 57 times longer, but be 1% nicer, I am all for it.

Besides, why do something quickly that you can actually finish, if you have the option of getting involved in a project that will spiral out of control?

Wow. This is totally fascinating… keep reading.

Kitchen planning frustration — I’ll be William Wallace. Paul can be the Irish guy.

Paul and I spent Saturday discussing the kitchen… Or rather, we began a conversation about the kitchen which morphed into generalized irritation, which seamlessly merged into every fight we have ever had about anything house-related.

The kind of irritation that makes you want to lay down on the floor in surrender and say– I give up. You win. This entire conversation is all yours.

Knock. Yourself. Out.

But instead you tiredly suit up for combat because for some reason you must defend the honor of your irritation.

Planning our DIY kitchen remodel – let the relationship-stress begin.

Braveheart/our living room

Wow. This is totally fascinating… keep reading.