Turquoise? Everywhere? Crap. (UPDATED!)
My turquoise mood started around November. One of my old necklaces broke and I repurposed its turquoise beads as berries in a wreath otherwise made of pine cones and hot glue. (We crafty over here.) I have since really caught the bug for the color, indulging impulse buys for turquoise art, jewelry and fashion.
Most recently I acted on an urge to paint the surface of my solid wood dining room table. We bought the art deco piece at an antique store up the street
. Beautiful, yes, but as they used to say back in Indiana, we're "eatin' people" and so our dining area has suffered a few slings and arrows. Like burn marks. Solution? Paint!
As the first coat of polyurethane top coat dried, I looked around my house and kicked my feet up. Finally. My turquoise mood had been sated. The hubs and I popped open a coupla cold beverages and I flipped through the Spring issue of the Chicago Tribune Magazine that had just been dropped on the doorstep. To my horror, page eight: 2010 is the year of turquoise.
You know, I've had this problem before. When I had the first slap bracelet in third grade I was teased at first, followed by envy and then later consumed by my own regret. As it turns out, slap bracelets became all the rage in 1988 and I had been branded. Jenna, The Girl With The Slap Bracelet. There is still a segment of my Facebook friends whose scant memories of me surely include the horrific trend.
I also had a blog in 2003 and saw Napoleon Dynamite on opening night. This does not make me a trendsetter, it just proves I have forked stick for dork culture. Do not follow me. Today's turquoise is bound to be tomorrow's combat-boots-with-a-granny-dress.