Apr 13, 2013

Angela's (and Other Scanlon) Ashes

Sorry, just a quickie hello. I've been off taking in (or slipping under) the cherry blossoms in DC, working on a few projects, and trying to out-zumba a pregnant lady in an effort to shed winter padding. Anyhoo, I'll get my blogging act together soon but just wanted to share a quickie in the meantime.

Irish stylist/writer/presenter Angela Scanlon was profiled on Who What Wear style blog the other day as their "Newest Girl Crush" and "new favorite 'it' girl." I hate to say I beat WWW to the punch but I've had a crush on Angela Scanlon's cool style/life/it-ness for ages now and I was delighted to see her get a callout on such a major fashion site. I want her wardrobe and her job. I want the fashion she wants (currently a pair of pink suede overalls) because I don't want to rule  out the pugs (so-ugly-they're-cute) of fashion. I want her hair. In fact, I have two pictures of her on my "Hair! Hair!" Pinterest board that I shared with my hairdresser who btw thinks I'm a nut job because I directed her with "either Angela's hair or half the head shaved like Rihanna."

Unlike WWW, I'm not a stalker ... though, I do realize as I write this that Angela isn't the first Scanlon I've taken a shine to.

I once harbored preteen feelings for Jack Scanlon who lived on the other side of the block. Jack only had eyes for my neighbor, and BFUSS (Best Friend Until Secondary School), Mary. Mary had long and dark hair, an uncle who was a famous hurler, and she was very good at math and rounders. I couldn't compete. Then, Jack loved Jacqueline and that was too poetic for me to interfere with, even if the first three letters of my name also matched the first three letters of theirs. Then there was Jack's older brother, Mark. Mark worked at the same hotel-restaurant as me when I was a teenager. To me, Mark was Jack-meets-George-Clooney (or more accurately, Jack-meets-Dick-Byrne, the kind-of-but-not-really Irish George Clooney). To Mark, I was his friend's younger sister. Actually, I was Mark's friend's younger, spotty, frizzy-haired sister who got blotchy after the hotel-manager berated her publicly for turning her back to a table of customers to shine teaspoons. Mark was dating an older girl at the restaurant who had bleached-blonde hair and wore way too much makeup. They were both way out of my league – even if I did happen to know that her teaspoons were dull and she was in love with the Head Chef at the hotel.

When I stopped loving the Scanlons, I wanted to be one. The youngest Scanlon was born on a leap year and I wanted her exceptional birthday so badly. I thought she might have special powers. I'll be home in a couple of months and will report back on that assumption. I bet she's a horse-whisperer or she sees dead people or something cool like that. Or maybe she's a podiatrist – changing lives with orthotics.

Anyway, back to Angela. Yeah, she's another fab example of Scanlondom. Read her blog and admire her wit and shoes at AngelaScanlon.com.

(Yes, that was a quickie. Aren't you glad you don't have to sit on a bar stool next to me tonight and listen to me ramble? Unless you, too, have a Scanlon history. If so, I'll be at Pete's Tavern at 8.)

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