After blogging as Style Mentor™ for six months and having certain "issues" with my blog, I have made some big changes.
The fact is, the name 'Style Mentor' belongs to a Korean clothing company. They own the dot com and dot net. That is why I picked StyleMentor.US in the first place. The Korean clothing company 'Style Mentor' is not in the US and they haven't trademarked the name here either, so it seemed okay.
But let's face it.
NO ONE gets the 'dot US' thing. I was at a fashion show yesterday and when I said my domain was StyleMentor.US, they looked at me like I was from outer space. "What is a DOT US" they would ask?
The other issue I have had with this blog is COMMENTS.
I cannot reply to comments here because of the platform. So I have been going to you my lovely bloggers, hoping my comments on your blogs would suffice.
The problem is, it looks like I don't engage with anyone on my own blog, even though I comment on other blogs regularly.
The answer I came up with was to change the URL to a dot COM and change the platform to one that would allow me to comment on my comments.
Fortunately, Squarespace 6 was released a while back, and I was excited to use it because one of the new features was allowing a blogger to comment on the comments. I was thrilled!
But it took me several weeks to get used to the new Squarespace.
During that time I bought different URLS, hoping they would work instead of StyleMentor.US.
I decided that none of them worked for me and who I was.
Then today, I decided I MUST come up with a new URL that I can build on.
I wanted a URL that described my rediscovered 'high style'.
I wanted HighStyle.com or HigherStyle.com, but they have been taken by someone who is hoping for an offer of thousands for a domain that has not been built.
I then tried StyleHigher.com and it was available. I thought about it and realized that StyleHigher.com was my URL.
It wasn't until I started to 'Style Higher' that I found my style again.
It wasn't until I was honest with myself about what I really loved and wanted, that I was able to be true to who I really was.
It wasn't until I looked up, higher than before, that I realized what I was missing in my life.
I had to Style Higher in order to change my destiny.
I now Style Higher™ regularly and I can honestly say, it has changed my life for the better.
Please join me as I reach for greater and greater heights on my new blog, StyleHigher.com.
I went out to lunch today and since I wasn't wearing 'farm wear', I thought I should snap some pics.
This skirt is years old and I bought the silk blouse on eBay for $15. I tried to work in a pair of gloves Style Crone, but they just didn't work with this outfit. Roadmaps, Jamberry Nails and a couple of rings will have to suffice today. :-)
The Gucci scarf is from the biggest vintage store in Italy, A.N.G.E.L.O. I went nuts when I learned I could shop Europe while dressed like a farmer! And think of all that fuel I WON'T be burning by not having to fly to Italy! Talk about sustainability; I tell you, vintage is the way to go. :-)
How CUTE is this 'butterscotch kiss' little wonder in my hand? It is a VERY vintage Hermes market bag donned with a $6 necklace I picked up at a store around the corner from my house.
I bought these Tory Burch dyed pony flats new. I had to have them. But they will be my last pair of Tory Burch flats because they CRUNCH the toes and the back forces my foot forward causing more crunching. The problem is clearly in the toe box. THERE ISN'T ONE. I wish designers would wear their own shoes so they know how they feel on.
It looks like a mouse took a nibble out of my seam here on the left. Oh, and MB, I have other seamed stockings soon to arrive. Your Fall wish is my command. :-)
Here I am looking very granny like.
I am ready for grandchildren in this shot for sure.
No pressure girls, I know you are only 14 and 18. :-)
In a comment Joni asked, "Did you start the business up yourself?"
Today I will share a little about the beginning of Tooth Soap®. I could write a book on the saga really, but right now, just a few little tidbits.
I'm not sure what to make of this pose...
It was 2003, my style was becoming more supressed, I was living in Oregon City, Oregon, and married to my second husband (call me Liz... :-/). He had watched me spend several thousand dollars, over the years, on business ventures that did not pan out.
I had no idea I was Lady Pigeon Toe here. I have to admit though, it was comfortable standing like the chickens do. :-)
When I decided I wanted to make it my mission to revive the concept of using soap to brush teeth and bring Tooth Soap® to market, my husband literally forbade me from spending more than $100 dollars on the venture. He told me I was not allowed to spend more than $100, and he was serious. He thought it would be another losing proposition, so we might as well keep the investment to a minimum. I was irritated at the restraint that was put on me, but I did think that later it would make a great story, if the business actually took off.
With the initial $100 dollar investment, I quickly purchased $45 dollars worth of custom made cinnamon and peppermint soap, spent $50 on amber glass jars, and dropped the last $5 on parchment paper for the labels that I planned to make (by hand).
I was a bit of a laughing stock when I told people about selling soap for teeth. I didn't have a lot of support in the beginning because it was a crazy idea. When my friends and family heard about me washing mouths out with soap, they chuckled. But I didn't care. I felt that the research I had done proved that soap was the best thing for teeth, and I loved the product so much myself that I thought if no one bought it, so what? I would have a nice supply of Tooth Soap® for my teeth, for probably a decade. :-)
After sitting at my dining room table by myself, filling the jars with Tooth Soap® and printing, cutting and pasting on labels by hand, I had a new dream. I dreamed of making enough money to be able to buy real LABELS. That was my first goal in the beginning. Labels were very expensive and I had to buy a large quantity to get a decent price. There was also a design fee. My husband insisted that the business must pay for itself, and if I was going to buy labels, the Tooth Soap® sales would have to pay for them.
First Tooth Soap® label in 2003.
All the jars of Tooth Soap® sold immediately when I introduced them to my newsletter list. Shortly after that, I had enough money to buy labels! I remember how amazing it was to be able to just peel and stick them on the jars! No more double stick tape, no more printing, cutting and trying to stay right outside the black line, which you can see above I was barely successful at. I will never forget how excited I was to be able to use a perfect, sticky label and apply it so easily to the Tooth Soap® jar!
So what about gum removal?
See these Dolce and Gabbana pumps? I got a killer deal on them. They had one little flaw though: A nice wad of gum on the sole that seemed inbedded and a gum smear on the patent leather. The gum needed to be dislodged and the leather cleaned up.
I used some ice to freeze the gum, and it came off with a little force from a plastic knife. I rubbed the patent leather for a good while with a soft cloth and it polished right up. Btw, I didn't give the alien hoof microorganisms in the shoes one thought. Now that I'm BFF with pre-owned shoes, clothes, and jewelry, I am so over that previous shoe cootie freak out that plaqued me in the past.
See how that gum on the pump sort of tied in with the Tooth Soap® $100 beginnings sticky label story? :-)
As I close I would like to say, follow your dreams, stay strong and know it will be challenging every step of the way:
You might have limited funds
You might have to dream and work by yourself in the beginning
You might even put your fancy pump on gum
But also know that difficulties are like exercise; it's very good for us even if we don't like it, and we eventually get into awesome shape because of it. :-)
My puppy has been challenging me lately, so I spoke with
a dog owner who is an expert with my breed.
The issue is DOMINANCE. My puppy has realized
how large he is and has been testing the waters.
The only answer is for me to make it clear to Winston that I am in charge.
I decided that a military ensemble would help me show Winston
how serious I am about running the house. I felt that going
"Drill Sargeant" would be the answer to whip him into shape.
I even thought some shoulder pads from the 80's might demand his respect
(or make him love Joan Collins in Dynasty).
Fake smile, but I had to show my teeth for Tooth Soap®.
Oh yes, indeedy...
Winston shaped up quick when he saw me
walk downstairs in this outfit!
Winston immediately stood at attention when he saw me
wearing navy and gold! Don't believe it when they tell
you dogs are color blind. :-)
Winston is now aware of how crossing the line and
trying to dominate me will only cause him to have
to run extra miles or do pull-ups, push ups and
any other type of boot-camp, hard exercise.
It is quite incredible to me that a change of dress can
make such a difference when training a puppy!
Winston takes me serious now, but when I
was wearing a thin maxi skirt, he just wanted
to chew and rip holes in the fabric.
Now that I wear this "awkward length"
skirt from the 80's, RESPECT is mine and he
doesn't dare jump up on me.
Looking masculine from behind, trying to create the illusion of more dominance. :-)
After just one day of wearing military clothes, Winston has
improved 100%. I finally have my puppy's respect
and it is all due to my choice of clothing that demands
R E S P E C T.
Photos taken by both of my daughters. My youngest
just got back from camp so we are all happy to be
together again before my oldest leaves in September!
If you are having difficulty with gaining respect from your animals
or even humans for that matter, try a military edge.
The clothes make the man or the woman, and your choice
of attire might even help you dominate in areas
of your life that need it. :-)
See you next time!
How I love mixing the decades!
Vintage St. John sweater by Marie Grey, 1980's.
The skirt is vintage Valentino, the hat is from
the 40's the earrings and necklace are 80's and 90's,
and the LV bag and shoes are this century.
And now, a word from our sponsor...
Autism and Tooth Soap®
I wanted to let you know the exciting news about one of our kiddos who is successfully brushing his teeth with the liquid Plain Jane Tooth Soap®!
He is 20 years old and has severe autism. He was so extremely orally defensive to texture and taste, which we have been working on in other means, but still had not been able to brush his teeth with any substance other than water on a brush. We have officlally used the liquid 3 times, and have sent a little home with his parents. He tolerates it! We are all so excited, and are waiting to hear how he does at home with the liquid as well. Look forward to letting you guys know more!
So far the Tooth Soap® has made a great impact here, and we are telling families about it!
With a busy mother working all the time, my brother and I watched TV when we got home from school. There was no such thing as cable back then, and I remember our little black and white TV only got 2 channels. Gilligan's Island was on one of them, every day, so I have seen every episode and I am not proud to say, I probably know every line in the series.
Many times I wondered to myself, if I packed for that three hour tour and ended up living on that Island for the rest of my life, what would I bring in my makeup bag?
The thought that I would be without certain beauty items would make me nervous! I admit it! I am a slave to certain products and tools.
Having had the chance to be both a Brownie and a Bluebird and then a full fledged Girl Scout (with badges no less), I can't help but have survival thoughts to this day.
When it comes to grooming, if I had to pick, I have always thought I could get along well with three things:
1. TWEEZERS! Imagine the possiblities beyond plucking! They would be so handy for little jobs around the island. And since I would have so much time on my hands, I could pluck every hair on my body that I didn't like. I could do this for years... :-)
2. Waterproof CONCEALER! It would double as a spot foundation, and I would never look tired because I could cover up the dark circles! I would be style blog ready at all times.
3. Waterproof LIPLINER in light plum! Style confession: I have slightly crooked lips. The left side of my upper lip is fuller than the right. Not only is it crooked, but my upper lip is also larger than my bottom lip. Fortunately, it is not so noticeable unless you are looking up my nostrils, which I wouldn't let you do anyway. I tried to get the right side of my lip temporarily fixed once, with disastrous results (!), so I went back to tried and true lip liner. If the plum is the right color, it could even be used as eye liner too.
With these three items in my bag I could get along well on a deserted island (I think).
Now... what would I wear?
This is when I realized I forgot my GLOVES! Get your GPS for the road maps!
I might wear this, hoping that my fancy (COCONUT) dinners
would continue on the deserted island.
Look at that LONG PRADA SHOE! LOVE IT!!!
I would be sure to pack a silk blouse, silk skirt and a sweater,
for those few nights when an occassional ocean chill blows through.
And I would for sure pack my seamed stockings and a pair of
low heeled Prada's, like these that I snagged on eBay for $60.
Note to self: Dust off the Prada shoes before using the micro lens.
I would also be wearing pearls or a necklace, preferably CHANEL,
and one that sparkles so I could attract any planes flying above.
Now it's your turn.
What THREE grooming/beauty products would you pack that would handle your grooming needs on a deserted island? You only get THREE.
Picture it, it was 1968 and I am sitting at the Hollywood Bowl with my mother, waiting to go on stage.
The sash above is pinned to my dress.
I am the only girl at the Hollywood Bowl with brown hair and brown eyes. And I know what that means, even though I am only five years old.
Knowing how poor we were I can only wonder where my mother got the money to enter me into this contest, let alone buy me a dress and shoes that were suitable.
Maybe my mother was hoping for some kind of miracle or a way out of the grinding poverty. I remember she tried to get me into commercials, but nothing ever came of it.
We are seated way in the back, so when it's time to go to the stage, I have to make my way down many steps.
As I get closer, my heart pounds more and more. I walk the final steps and make my way to my spot on stage.
Even at five years old I am wondering, "What will they think? Will they accept me, even though I am so brown?"
Standing there silently, with my feet together perfectly, I look down at my white patent leather shoes.
The judges pass me by.
They barely look at me and don't even smile.
I know what they are thinking.
I happened to be a mind reader at five years old.
The blonde girl next to me, the beautiful one, with the crystal blue eyes is the one they choose. She is the winner, not me; I am not surprised.
When I got back to my seat, I told my mother, "I didn't win Mommy". She smiles at me and assures me it is okay. But deep down I felt like I wasn't good enough. If only I had blue eyes and blonde hair, then I would be accepted.
I felt like a loser and it wasn't just about losing the contest and not being Little Miss America of 1968. I felt I wasn't the right color, and there wasn't much that could be done about that.
That is what Hollywood wanted back in the day. A blonde haired, blue-eyed little girl. That was the ideal and the mold seemed like it would never crack, let alone be broken.
I have to say I became obsessed with blonde hair after that. I thought there was no other hair color in the world besides BLONDE. No other hair color mattered, it was blonde hair that was the ultimate and desired by all.
I would stare at old photos of Marilyn I found in my mother's old magazines. She was ideal. She had blonde hair. I didn't know she was a bottle blonde.
More blonde roots...
My parents divorced when I was three, and I didn't see my father much growing up. The last time I remember seeing him was when I was around 8. He told me he would buy me a Barbie, and I couldn't wait to get it.
It was a big deal to get a Barbie doll, because they were expensive. I waited and waited for that blonde Barbie and when my father showed up on my birthday with a box, I knew what was inside.
As I ripped open the box to reveal the blonde little goddess, I noticed right away that she wasn't blonde at all.
My father had purchase the Barbie with light brown hair, like my own. He thought I would prefer that, I guess.
I will always remember how disappointed I was when I got that brunette Barbi.
My mother didn't understand.
Let's move forward now, to my middle school years, which was called "jr. high" back then.
My mother loved to put Sun-In on my hair, because it would turn the most amazing shade of gold.
She first put the Sun-In on my hair when we were sitting by Aunt Carol's pool, the rich blonde step-auntie that was now in my life and inspiring me in ways like never before.
I still remember that day, because that night I was left alone in the house, pretending it was my own. (for another post).
I got used to using Sun-In and lightening my hair when I was young. My mother would say to me all the time, "You should have been born blonde, it looks so good on you." I would get tan in the summer and enhance the blondeness further.
With the confirmation of acceptable blonde hair color from my mother, I spent a couple of decades lightening my hair, either through weaving or using a double process so I could achieve that incredible "ivory" shade of blonde that I loved so much.
I was known as a "blondie" and I knew every blonde joke there was. Even though I wasn't naturally blonde, some things I would do and say indicated that I was a typical blonde, and that added to the whole thing.
When I finally stopped bleaching my hair when I was 33, I couldn't believe the color my hair was. It was so shiny and healthy and so, so dark.
I would say it was the color of mink, and I fell in love with it and wondered why I had bleached it for so many years.
I regretted my blonde days and felt I missed out on enjoying my own natural beauty. But if someone would have suggested I go natural back when I lived in California, I would have told them to take a hike.
It wasn't until I moved to Oregon that I was able to break free from the blonde desire. It felt like I "had" to be blonde when I lived in California. Just like it feels like you need to drive a Jaguar or Mercedes there.
Today I am sporting a new blonde hair hat and when I first opened the box and saw the color, I was taken back at least two decades. This color and STYLE was EXACTLY what I wore back in the day. EXACTLY!
Wearing this brings back so many memories of my blonde days.
I wore the blonde hair hat all day and by the time the evening rolled around my daughter said, "You know, that color blonde you are wearing has really grown on me, I like it."
Thank you my daughter, I like it too.
But not because I don't like my own hair. I most certainly do.
I find it fun, however, to be able to toss on a hair hat and mix it up a bit.
This time I am blonde because it is fun and not because I don't feel good enough.
The great thing about style is that you can grow up through it. When you look back you can see what motivated you to do what you did.
How many of you out there have colored your hair and have you thought about why you did it? Besides the obvious of coloring grey, what other reasons motivated you to color all of those hairs on your head?
Thank you for joining me today.
See you next time!
Shirt: Ralph Lauren Skirt: Vintage Gucci Shoes: Miu Miu
I am snapping pictures like crazy, hiding behind this huge Canon and I'm so glad I have this camera to cover my face. I can't hide or stop the tears now, they are flowing, flowing. How could I forget a tissue, I have nothing to soak up this mess. It is a good thing I didn't wear a lot of eye makeup, so it won't be so noticable later.
There, I just flicked some tears away really quick with the tip of my finger, and the floor is carpeted so the sound of the tears pinging the floor can't be heard. The truth is, no one would notice anyway, because all eyes are on the stage, where you and other lovely ladies now sit.
My precious daughter, how did you grow up so fast. Just yesterday you were at my breast, content to stay there forever. Now you are ready to fly free and in less than three months you will leave the country to learn in another land. My heart is bursting with pride and at the same time it feels crushed. Yes, that is how it feels. Like an egg, crushed. In an empty nest.
Enough about me.
This is about you.
You did it and all of your hard work has paid off.