We're the Girls From Beverly Hills, Shopping is our Greatest Skill

My elementary school life, as I remember, was filled with nap times, desks with little cubicles in them, carefree "whatever" math problems, overalls, stirrup pants and after school daycare where me and my posse hung around the parking lot playground as if we ruled the school. With the exception of having some boy flick a playing card at my butt that left me crying away in shame and fearing the lunch table hangout area ever since, I would say elementary school was the life. One of the most memorable parts of this period in my grand life was the two hours I spent every afternoon in daycare. Although I did not like to admit it to my mom because I wanted to make her feel guilty for leaving me there, I enjoyed the time I spent at daycare. Me and my friends would hang out in the bathroom after class so we could arrive fashionably late to the multipurpose room where the day care teachers checked attendance. I thought I was a little rebel back then. I also couldn't wait until 3rd grade because that was when we were allowed to walk over to the 7-11 and get the unhealthy junk food - you know, the good stuff. However, there was one thing I didn't like about day care and that was Tuesdays because on Tuesdays all my friends went to Girl Scout meetings while I was left along wandering the desolate parking lots looking for stray crayons and lucky pennies.

After hours of begging and pleading, my mom finally let me join the Girl Scouts in the 4th grade. Too bad I switched schools the next year because I so would have rocked it as a Girl Scout. Although I tend to do things my friends do even though I initially may not be personally interested such as joining the Girl Scouts, I did have another reason for wanting to get dressed up in those high waisted green khaki shorts and little vests with few badges (I wasn't as "active" as I would have liked to have been) and that was because of watching Troop Beverly Hills, one of my favorite movies as a kid (That plus Teen Witch rocked me and my sisters tube socks! Oh! I don't forget The Next Karate Kid!)

And as fate would have it, the movie was playing tonight on ABC Family. So I gathered up the troop (my sister and my mom) and huddled around the heater to watch this delectable movie. I remembered how awesome Phyllis Nefler was always dressed and the most memorable outfit was what I like to call her "Pringle Chip Dress" because it well, looked like the shape of a pringle. If you don't remember, it's when she's throwing a little party in honor of her becoming the new troop leader. So tonight, I relished in the outlandish, fabulousness of her outfits and the little girls funky late 80's get up. I managed to snap some pictures from the tv because I just could not find many images on google.

I wish I knew how to make my Juniors Girl Scout Uniform that chic when I was young.

Hand me a green beret please! And give me a diamond that sings and I'll be yours.

Ms Nefler manages to make aerobics look fashionable.

This reminds me of doing Jane Fonda aerobics workouts with my mom.

An adorable Jenny Lewis with an AWESOME hat. Killer dress too.

90210 children sure do know how to dress!

Hehe...I want to attach a bird looking object to my outfits.

Annie finally came out of her shell when she got dressed up in this frou frou dress. I seriously wanted this dress since I was a little girl. Don't even get me started on the little hat.

But this lady will always be the belle of the ball!

As I finished the movie, I could only sit there reminiscing all the good old days of being a kid and suck up my fear of growing older. But hey, if I can dress up like Phyllis Nefler when I get to that age, sign me up baby!

Give me some good ole hair wrappin!

While most other fashion bloggers out there are probably checking out and blogging continuously about the latest S/S 08 collections at New York Fashion Week, today I'm going to talk about something that has been on my mind for a long time. Well, it's not exactly a long time, it's only been a few hours but to some people, like those who are being tortured, a few hours can be a really long time. So I win.

Anyways, this afternoon I was swiggling in the pool. I do realize 'swiggling' isn't a word, but it just fits. So I win, again. I had a hard day at the office: working 24/7 as Lala the Art Geek aint no easy task. I had to figure out shipping mistakes for my website AND play with clay all while watching The Prestige online, so as you can tell I was pooped out. (The Prestige is a GREAT movie by the way!). Onto the story. I do seem to sidetrack a lot whenever I blog.

So I was swimming. And thinking. I was swimming and thinking. What could I possibly be thinking about the whole time swimming? New fashion ideas? New tee ideas? My upcoming thrift-venture? Nahhh. I was thinking hair wraps. I can already imagine your wtf-expressions as we speak. But no, seriously, I want a hair wrap - bad. It's so over. It's so 90's. It's so elementary school-esque. But no. Once Lala has her mind obsessed with something, she has to get it.

I was thinking about hair wraps and how cool they used to be and how the first and only time I did get a hair wrap, it lasted only two days. But boy, were they the best two days of my life. My sister and I had gone to our art teacher's house to get them done. Mine were purple, pink, and white. It had a bead with a pig on it at the bottom. I remember how I had secretly desired for one for a long time just like how I secretly desired nail polish but somehow got the idea into my head that they were "bad" - they were the devils' fashion and certainly going to a Christian school at the time did not help either. I was a messed up kid.

The day I got the hair wrap, I swished my hair around all day, admiring that piece of hair wrapped in string. I could put it up in a pony tail and let it show, and put it down and still let it show. It was bliss. It was love. It was a moment that lasted way to short. I clearly remember the day it happened- the day my hair wrap ceased to be a hair wrap anymore and instead just a lifeless strand of string. I was running around at art camp during our lunch break when suddenly, I felt this tiny pull on my head. Then I looked down. There it was, my happiness, sitting on the grass cold and dead. I had suppressed that memory from my mind for many years until this afternoon.

Look at this kid. Look at that cute smile on her face. I want to be her. I know she's mocking me right now, laughing at my lameness: HarHa! You don't have a hair wrap! You don't have a hair wrap! I do! Not you!

And now, I am determined to get one again no matter how stupid it is or how "unfashionable" or how out of date. It's not just about the hair wrap, my friends. No. It is much more. It is about reclaiming my happiness. It is about finding that joy and spark in life again that my first hair wrap had given me so much of. If I don't get one, I simply don't know how I can go on with life.

Excuse me now, while I go about moping my childhood travesty.

Done moping. Time to check out some of those new collections baby!