My parents made me grossly over-estimate how much black tie would be inolved in my adulthood

Two separate black tie events I attended with my father.  Yes, I grew up in Downton Abbey.

Two separate black tie events I attended with my father. Yes, I grew up in Downton Abbey.

Growing up with rich, socialite-y parents is confusing when you grow up to become a middle class weirdo…

When I was a child, I have TONS of memories of seeing my father in a tuxedo — seriously the man OWNED a tux, like “yes, I will be requiring this outfit for more than one occasion” — and my mother in an evening gown. Hell, my mother had an “evening gown section” of her walk-in closet-that-was-really-a-room. The heavy drapes of velvet and sequined fabric (it was the ’80s) became one of my favorite hide-and-seek spots.

I’m sure I’m mis-remembering, but it seemed like every month, my parents had a black tie event to attend. I’d watch them get ready — dad setting out his tux and shoes in his closet, then fussing with his cufflinks at the dresser, and mom glamorously accessorizing her stunning dress, then sitting down at her vanity to expertly apply makeup.

Hell, I even attended my fair share of black tie events as a child — wearing itchy, poofy dresses with gloves or giant bows, and those horribly-stiff, shiny-black, patent leather Mary Janes.

I had built up such a collection of fucking GOWNS, by the time I was in college, that I had more dresses to wear to balls and galas then to a your run-of-the-mill formal-ish parties. As I started getting rid of all my gowns — realizing that they were just taking up precious closet space — I thought, “WTF, mom and dad. Black tie was clearly NOT going be a major part of my social life like I thought it would be.”

I think I’ve attended ONE black tie event as a grown up — I was my mom’s date to the wedding of a childhood friend, held at The Los Angeles Country Club (yet another thing that, as a child, I thought would be more a part of my adult life). I ended up wearing the dress I wore to my cousins’ black tie wedding, held when I was in high school. (THAT dress, I kept, because it could make a good Black Swan costume one day.)

Recently, my mom and my friend Drew got into some weird designer gown discussion on Instagram… Read More

Adventures in Adventure Time Halloween costumes

meggyfin does Steampunk Princess Bubblegum

Last Halloween, I was finally able to unveil my costume that took me all year to put together: Steampunk Princess Bubblegum — based on this drawing.

Here’s how I pulled this off without sewing anything:

steampunk princess bubblegum details

* Princess Bubblegum headband
* Pink Elope Radioactive Aviator Glasses
* Renaissance Maiden Costume
* Pink cosplay wig
* Malco Modes Mid-Thigh Length Pettipant Bloomers
* Corset and pouch from Clockwork Couture
* Prospectress Boot
* Pink tights

adventure time steampunk

I was in good company with Adventure Time fun — Punk Rock PB and Finn, Marshall Lee and Fionna.

This year, I’m continuing on with the Adventure Time Halloween theme, but with a LOT less preparation. I’m not going to a huge Halloween party, but I’m going to a Halloween-themed dance club night. This means my costume needs to be lighter and danceable. I also have purple hair this year, and I didn’t want to sweat in a wig. So… the obvious answer became LUMPY SPACE PRINCESS!

lumpy space princess glasses

I already have purple hair, and a purple dress, so the only thing left to do was snag these glasses and I had a $12 costume!

I lumping LOVE Adventure Time costumes!

I’m consuming way too much Scottish pop culture

I'm consuming way too much Scottish pop culture

I ran out of shit to read, and it was these comments on an Offbeat Home post that convinced me to download Outlander. Which, okay, is written by a chick who lives in Arizona, but it’s FULL of Scottish history, and like, you know, one sexy-ass Scottish dude.

And then I finished watching all of Call the Midwife and Netflix recommended a show called Monarch of the Glen, and I’m all Scottish laird what now? It’s fucking AWESOME. It’s like Northern Exposure meets Downton Abbey… in Scotland… with a super-Megan-type actor. (Seriously, the moment Aaron saw this guy he was like “you have a crush on him, don’t you?) And I’m binge watching all seven fucking seasons.

Which means, at this point I’m up to my eyeballs in kilts, accents, and gorgeous scenery. And I’m asking my husband questions about the Finley lineage that he has no answers to. Only to say things like, “Yeah, I’ve been told we’re from Scotland.” “I think we have a family crest… something with an eagle?” “Look Megan, I don’t now, I don’t care, why am I even looking this shit up right now?”

So, at this point I’m itching to visit Scotland. Like DY-ING. Aaron’s probably also itching to let me go to Scotland, if anything but to stop hearing me imitating the accent. “Aye, ye fucking wee mutts. Stop yer bloody yapping. I’ll get ye fed…”

This is all to say, if anyone wants to take a trip to Scotland sometime next year, I’d TOTALLY be down to go! Or who do I know that wants to play host to me in Scotland?

The Big Itch of 2014

the big itchI’ve been straight up ITCHY with, what I think is, heat rash. It started a week ago. Just around my hips and inner thighs, and then it spread down my legs, up to my stomach, and down my arms.


I’ve been getting some slight relief from my Pure Fiji Dilo Rescue Body Spray — seriously it’s doing better things than Cortisone. But still… I even couldn’t sleep one night because of the torturous itching.

And you KNOW scratching it feels SOOOO GOOOOOOD. I can’t stop. But the moment I stop scratching… oh man…

I’m going insane.

And because of this itch, I can’t go outside because it’s disgusting hot in LA, I’m bailing on my weekly hikes with my friends, and I can’t wear fun clothes. I’ve been stuck inside (during the day) for a week with the AC blasting, wearing this cotton Costco dress 24/7.

If it was heat rash, wouldn’t it go away once I stopped being hot? I know it’s NOT an allergic reaction to food, soap, detergent, animals… because everything has stayed the same.


But mostly, does anyone have any suggestions as to what I can do to stop The Big Itch.

Disappointment soup with a side of pig meat violation

This is not the actual soup, but a pretty close visual. Photo by: snowpea&bokchoiCC BY 2.0

In a VERY RARE occurrence that guy I married and I found ourselves with a Saturday night with no plans. Aaron used it as an excuse to take me out to a surprise dinner — also a VERY RARE occurrence!

See, we don’t really go out to dinner because we can’t ever agree on a place that we both love on the same level — not since Kate Mantilini‘s. Discovered while we were in couples therapy, Kate Mantilini’s was the first restaurant both of us could find our very favorite things, and we made it a ritual to go every Tuesday, post-therapy. We went so often that we got to know the staff and they us, we got special desserts, and comped wines. It was awesome. We were left restaurant-less after it closed.

Unbeknownst to me, Aaron had discovered that there was in fact ANOTHER Kate Mantilini’s in Woodland Hills (deeeeeeep in the Valley), and he kept it a secret from me so that one evening he could surprise me. That was this evening! He told me to get dressed up, we were going on a date.

My heart fluttered, and my black dress came out of the closet. I was stoked. This was special. Read More

Home lust on a budget in Los Angeles

This is just one of the amazing sights you see when you're house hunting in Panorama City.

This is just one of the amazing sights you see when you’re house hunting in Panorama City.

Every Sunday I go shopping for a home I can’t ever buy. It’s like this my own sisyphean tale: Girl wants house, girl finds house, girl falls in love with house, girl can’t afford house, girl watches someone else buy house… girl still wants house, girl finds another house, girl falls in love with house, girl can’t afford house, girl watches someone else buy house… and on and on every week. Always ending on a Sunday after open houses end, and starting up again on Monday morning when I start obsessively checking my Redfin app for new homes to look at, fall in love with, and leave behind.

Why do I do this to myself? (Good question, I should bring that up in therapy.) Well, it didn’t start as personal torture… Read More

Of ice buckets, ALS, and missing grandmothers

My father Allen Tharpe took the “ALS ice bucket challenge” today. While it was hilarious, it was also sad…

His mother, my grandmother whom I never got to meet (but apparently very much resemble) died from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. That, in short, FUCKING SUCKS. June Tharpe was — from what I’ve learned over the years — a bad-ass. I would have loved to have had the opportunity to meet her just once, let alone to have gotten to deeply know and be shaped by her, as I have with my other wonderful grandmother.

I admit, I’ve been confused by the challenge. So… every time someone dumps water on their head ALS doesn’t get money? (Thankfully, like my father, people have been doing both.) And I’ve cringed watching people from California waste gallons of water during a drought. (So I made sure my father didn’t challenge anyone from Cali.)

But what can not be confused, what doesn’t make me cringe, is that ALS research just received something like 11 MILLION dollars. That is amazing. That is wonderful.

That gives me hope that one day another girl won’t have to cry every time she’s reminded of the bad-ass grandma she so much resembles that she never got to even meet. It gives me hope that another child won’t have to, not just watch, but nurse his dying mother whose body is giving out way before her time. Because with all these ice buckets and donations, one day, hopefully soon, we may be that much closer to finding a cure to this shitty no good disease.

Anyway, all this to say, I just skipped the ice bucket and donated money to ALS research, and if you want to do so as well, here’s the link: