Return of the Speedo Part III

This morning, as I searched in my closet for something warmer than the cardigan I’ve been wearing to walk Roxy, I realized fall has arrived with a vengeance.

The warmer, sunnier days of summer have been substituted with the colder, damper, rain-filled days of autumn.

I sighed as I remembered past summer days spent frolicking on the beach, drinking ice cold sangria, and laughing at the silly things.

It was this nostalgia that prompted me to look through my photos and relive some of those memories.

And in so doing, I discovered I still haven’t done my traditional Speedo post.

Busily scrolling through the hundreds of photographs, I quickly selected a handful to share with you.

Why?

Because it matters not whether we cringe or whoop with delight, a Speedo post possesses the ability to make us smile.

Or giggle.

Or sigh.

Or wonder what the heck these men were thinking when they put them on.

Nevertheless, this year I’ve decided that I shall not bash the Speedo.

Instead, just for fun, I would like to encourage you to express your thoughts regarding this controversial strip of cloth.

You can do this by leaving a comment or voting in the poll found at the bottom of this post.

(Hopefully, both!)

And now, without further ado, I give you men in Speedos!

First up, the “retro” Speedo.
Some men believe wearing a Speedo is the best way to bring sexy back.
I call this one the “underwear” Speedo.
If you don’t have a Speedo you can always make one.
If you don’t want to sport a homemade Speedo, you can always turn yourself into a human net.
I have to admit this one made me wonder if not all homemade Speedos are bad.
Finally, no summer would be complete without the white Speedo.

What do you think of the Speedo?

Don’t forget to check back to see the results!

Happy Sunday, everyone!

Note: This post is written in a humorous vein.
For further explanation, please refer to the post titled, Should I label this post a disclaimer?

What motivates us to hang on for dear life?

Last night, I went to bed thinking of the wind as I pondered Diane’s beautifully written post on the devastating effects of this force of nature.

And this morning, I awoke to the wind’s howling as it coursed through the trees; intent on taking with it, whatever lay in its path.

As Roxy and I entered the forest, I noticed how the majority of the trees were bare.

However, at the end of the path, I witnessed one lonely leaf, desperately clinging to a tree branch.

It had miraculously survived, and now danced proudly as the strong gusts whipped it left and right.

As I took in the scene before me, I wondered how the leaf was able to remain on the branch, valiantly clinging to life against all odds.

I also wondered if it wouldn’t it be easier to accept defeat and fall; to join the rest of the leaves that had already taken a nose dive.

And yet, it hung on.

It hung on the same way many of us hang on when it would be easier to let ourselves fall.

I realized many of us have much in common with this feisty and determined leaf.

At times, our lives take turns for the worse, our situation seems hopeless, and we come to doubt that there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

Other times, even though we’d never do it, we wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to jump; to stop fighting; to give in.

Yet we know this is not an option; that this would be the coward’s way out.

We recognize that while pain is devastating, it also serves to remind us that we’re still alive; that we still have the ability to fight.

And so, we courageously find the inner strength to keep going.

Because we realize, that most of the time, help is not on the way.

We face the reality that we stand alone.

An army of one; depending only on ourselves.

It is this realization that prompts us to take action; to do the best we can, with the resources that we have.

Do we believe we have the chance to conquer as we battle the odds?

Most of the time, we can only pray and hope that we do.

Yet this shouldn’t prevent us from trying our damnedest; from trying to survive come what may.

As Roxy and I struggle to walk against the wind’s strong currents, I realize that we are one with the leaf.

And like the leaf, we should hold on even when the wind threatens to knock us down.

What motivates you to hang on?

Today, I’m linking up with Heidi’s Black and White Wednesday.

Black and White Wednesday

What are you wearing?


cc licensed ( BY ) flickr photo shared by SlapBcn

The ever growing amount of handsome men I'm encountering on my afternoon walks with Roxy has made me realize I have to start dressing better.

What can I say? I just don't have the time. As the afternoon rolls around it's deja vu as I realize I have just 30 minutes before I have to start cooking dinner.

In the meantime, the son is screaming, "How long before we eat?", the dog is pressing her two legs together, sporting a look that screams, "I'm going to pee in the next 5 seconds," and the significant other is trying to slice through a frozen piece of pound cake with a butter knife.

Is this the time to color coordinate an outfit and throw on Jimmy Choo's?

I think not.

And so, with the intent of taking care of business faster than Roxy's pee hits the rug, I'm out the door wearing "whatever" I threw on in the morning.

Need I say that "whatever" entails what I was able to scrounge together at 6am using only 50 percent of my conscious state of awareness?

God, I'm sleep deprived.

Today's "outfit du jour" consisted of pajama pants (I call them loungewear) purchased during the Reagan administration, a J Crew t-shirt circa 1980 in the ugliest shade of puce, and a half-broken pair of yellow O'Neill flip-flops.

Yes people, I know it's fall but I just don't have the energy to do a recon mission and identify where the "autumn" shoes are hiding.

To top the outfit, I donned a pink plaid poncho that would have made Ugly Betty (before her quasi transformation) proud.

Out the door I went, and to hell with the consequences.

However, this laissez-faire attitude came to a screeching halt after encountering eligible bachelor #1, hottie married-but-who-give's-a-rat's-ass #2, and ooh-honey-smokin'-hot #3.

Be still, my heart.

By this time, I was so mortified, I was searching in the bushes for any item that could be used as a cutting tool that could transform my poncho into a ski mask.

Insert "What did we learn today?" here.

And so, it is with great sheepishness that I admit to you and myself, that it's time to rethink the schizophrenic wardrobe choices.

Note to self: Write Charlize Theron and inform her that her character in "Sweet November" will no longer be the source of inspiration for my inner fashionista. And that she was being paid to wear the crazy get ups. And more importantly, that because she's so beautiful, she could wear a burlap sack and still look magnificent, but that sadly, this isn't the case for most of us.

Because most of us have to put in a little effort in order to look presentable. But I digress.

What I did learn today is this: We should make the effort to look good.

Not just because we might encounter GQ's November cover, but because we owe it to ourselves to put ourselves first…before the dog, before the grown up "children" and before our spouse.

I say it's damn time we invest a little time on our person, our appearance, our emotional well-being, and mental state.

So next time you're headed out the door in an outfit that resembles something that would make a rodeo clown proud, just remember…You're worth the time it takes to make yourself look good.

Because most of the time, looking good means feeling good.

Forget all that crap you've read about how clothes don't make the monk.

While it may be true that a badly dressed monk is still a monk, it's also true that a badly dressed monk is still that, a badly dressed monk.

What do you think? How important is it to you to look nice?