My Darling Readers

Wow, what a week! I have been in Las Vegas for the last 3 days shopping for new merchandise for LoveFifi. It’s been both exciting and exhausting. For those of you who have ever walked the endless aisles of a trade show, you know what I am talking about. Try 3 trade shows in 3 days. I am pooped.

I am on my way back to LA and I am texting this love letter to let you know what’s up. Don’t worry, I am not texting and driving. I completeIy let go of the wheel when I text in the car. Just kidding. I am being driven.

I have a funny article in the works, but I am afraid it will have to wait until next week. I hope your week was as successful and happy as mine. Have a lovely weekend. I plan to spend the entire weekend doing absolutely NOTHING. I can’t wait.

Hugs and kisses.

The Fifi Files - Part 1

I totally believe in giving back. If people don't share, the world doesn't go forward. The exchange of ideas and knowledge is critical to the advancement of all mankind. I believe with all my heart that if you possess expertise in any area of learning, you need to pass it on to others and let it filter down through the next generations. It is only through this process that humanity progresses and achieves.

I am dedicating this article to teaching you something that could very well be life changing. It is my honor and privilege to open your world to a subject dear to me, one that I have spent years compiling and testing. You all know that I am regarded as an expert in the field of foundations and intimate apparel. I am constantly educating my customers, readers, staff and anyone who will stand still long enough to listen on finding your proper bra size, how to look 10 lbs thinner and so on. But there is more to Miss Fifi than just knowing nearly everything about undies.

There is a deeper inquisitive side that has sent me on a quest where few have traveled and I am excited about sharing this wealth of information with you. Maybe what I know isn't going to impress any MENSA members or shake up the intellectual community, but I promise you that you will add my findings to your rich bank of knowledge and be pretty excited. Don't worry, what I am about to impart on you is not difficult to absorb. It's not like I have found a cure for a dreaded disease or am a computational biologist or an expert in analytic chemistry. I will gladly leave those fields to others, but I am thrilled to now teach you (DRUM ROLL!!)... 15 Fabulous Things You Can Do With Disposable Coffee Filters. Yes, I said coffee filters. Even if you don't drink coffee, you need to buy some. Good coffee filters are cheap, you get a ton of them in a package and they are made from 100% virgin paper. Ready to be amused and amazed?

1. You can use them to safely clean computer monitors, television screens and windows. They clean without leaving any residue or lint.

2. Place one atop the food you are microwaving. Works better than plastic wrap which is toxic and prevents splatter.

3. A coffee filter works like magic to de-silk corn on the cob. Just dampen the filter and swipe it once over the ear of corn.

4.When packing a sandwich to go, cut the sandwich in half and put both sides together. Wrap a filter around the halves like a taco shell and put in a zip-lock bag. The filter will keep the sandwich from sweating inside the plastic and it will taste like it was just made. I also wrap my celery and carrot sticks in filters before putting them in plastic. They stay dry and are deliciously crisp and fresh tasting.

5.One of my favorite uses is for quick snacks. I grab one, put my pretzels, popcorn or whatever and head for the TV. No dirty dishes and you can control portions.

6. To sprout flower seeds for planting, place in a dampened filter, fold in half and place in a zip-lock bag. It's like a mini hothouse.

7.To remove a spot from clothing, wet a filter with either hydrogen peroxide or white vinegar and rub over stain.

8. Use to wrap up glass Christmas balls for storage.

9.Poke a hole in the middle of a filter and put the stick end of a Popsicle through it. Great for kids!

10. Coffee filters work way better than cotton balls or tissues for removing nail polish.

11. Drain your bacon on coffee filters. They are cheaper and more efficient than paper towels.

12. Make your own bouquet garnis for soups and stews, flavor enhancers when brewing tea or sachets to place in your dresser drawers. Just place whatever spices, herbs or dried flowers in the center. Gather and tie with string in the middle for cooking or brewing and with ribbon for the sachets.

13. Apply your shoe polish using coffee filters. Use new ones to buff.

14. Filter your wine when the cork breaks apart.

15. If you still aren't wowed, take a look at the roses below. They were made for a wedding out of guess what? Coffee filters. Hand dyed with food coloring. Gorgeous.

My knowledge in this area is not just limited to the miracle of coffee filters. Stay turned next week for more tips from Miss Fifi.

View the tutorial Here.

To My Darling Readers

There won’t be an article this week. I wish I had a brilliant excuse like I have been called to the White House to help solve pressing national problems or that I am on the list to be a kidney donor and I got the call that I was a match. I am sad to say that there is nothing so impressive or noble associated with the reason I couldn’t get it together and write something for my precious and loyal readers.

Although I am pretty good at multi-tasking, this week just kicked my butt and I ran out of time. I don’t believe in excuses, but mine are pretty fantastic, so please indulge me.

First, I had 2 charming house guests from Belgium stay with me this week. These two adorable young men were on a three week whirlwind trip through California, Arizona and Utah. Seven years ago, one of them worked here at LoveFifi on an apprenticeship through his college in Europe. When he left to go home, I told him that if he ever came to California again, he was more than welcome to stay with me. I was thrilled to be house mother to these charming lads. I put everything else aside to make sure they had a great time in my city.

Then life got more complicated because my sister was scheduled to have her first colonoscopy this past Tuesday. I think you know by now she is not only my sister, but my trusted assistant. I was at work all alone on Monday and it was Hell for me trying to do both of our jobs. Actually, it could have been worse because I had quite a time convincing her that prepping for her procedure the day before at the office is not really do-able. I was already running behind for the week, but on Tuesday I was Sister’s official driver to and from the hospital. Nothing shoots a good Tuesday like a colonoscopy, even if it’s not your own.

On Wednesday I needed to act like the CEO person that it says I am on our letterhead and my business cards. We were having a "big all-company” meeting on Friday and I had a ton of analyzing to do to get ready so I could look smart in front of the partners and staff. By Thursday I was so over-my-head frantic with tasks, that I had to make some changes to my schedule and do some heavyweight prioritizing.

I also must mention that I have company coming again over the weekend and my housekeeper of over 20 years retired 3 weeks ago. Yes, I had to clean my own house. I tried to ignore it, but the dust bunnies were getting to be a menacing size and I was starting to have nightmares. My housekeeper was wonderful to me and worked a lot of years. She deserves to enjoy her life. I tried to keep that thought when I was plotting her death while mopping at 11:30 last night.

So it is almost the week’s end and time to be witty. I love writing my articles, but this week I am stressed out and tearing my hair out. If you can believe it, one of my best friends called me out and said I was a bitch. I was quite taken aback and informed her without hesitation that I am not a bitch... I am THE bitch, and don’t forget it.

I feel bad that there is no article to entertain you over coffee this week. I do apologize, my darlings. Life is not without sacrifices and I believe that my decision to forgo writing an article was the right thing to do for my mental health. I also found the courage to cancel my massage and Aqua Lift Facial, which actually would have taken the same amount of time as accompanying my sister to her colon photo shoot, but I am not complaining. Being unselfish comes naturally to me. Who needs to be rubbed with hot stones and have her tired face uplifted and refreshed? Not me.

Until Next Week,

You Can't Scare Me

October 31st is almost here. I have already done my part and paid $14 for a pumpkin that I will never eat and will pitch in the trash when it starts to decompose and stink. I am officially in the Trick-or-Treat mode.

We are crazy busy here at LoveFifi.com getting your corsets, push-up bras, padded panties, and fishnet hosiery out to you to wear under your costumes (by the way, thank you for your orders…kiss, kiss!). In fact, we are SO busy, that even Miss Fifi is working in the warehouse getting your packages ready to ship. Don’t faint, but I am really not bad at picking, packing, and shipping. I am much better at being queen, but that will have to wait until next week when all the hoop-di-doo is over. As I pack each order (lovingly, I might add), I think about the person who will be wearing the corsets and stockings and all the fun stuff from us that is going into creating their costumes. It's fun to fantasize and try to guess what their costume might look like. I do the same thing at the market when I look at what the folks ahead of me in line are buying and imagine what kind of people they are and what their lives are like. Old ladies who buy 30 cans of cat food, chocolate chip cookies, and the National Enquirer are easy to figure out. You can tell the single guys and health nuts easily, as well. I remember once there was a guy in front of me whose purchases were a bottle of Collins Mix, two limes, and a large container of Draino. I couldn't figure out what on earth was going on at his house. Thank goodness I wasn't alone on this one. When the cashier checked him through and told him the total, he also commented and chuckled that the guy must be mixing up one "hell of a cocktail". It's always good to know that I am not the only one with a sick brain.

I am truly enjoying my adventure in our shipping department and have learned two important things along the way. Number 1: our warehouse supervisor, Christine, is worship-able. The way she runs the place and handles the customers is awesome. She came to us from one of the fanciest department stores in the world, so she knows how to treat people. With her around, you can be sure your order will arrive at your door on time. Thank you, Chris!

And what was the second thing I learned?

Our United Parcel Service man is gorgeous! What a cutie! I loved watching him put all our packages in the truck. Warehouse work has many rewards.

Customer Service just told me a man called this morning and ordered our Belly Dancing outfit over the phone. He spent 10 minutes explaining that it was for his girlfriend. The more he explained, the more we knew for sure WHO would be wearing this outfit. Please, my darlings, you don’t have to explain anything to anyone at LoveFifi. We care only that your purchase will bring you joy. Period.

When my partners and I started this business, we did it with our eyes and arms wide open to our customers. Let’s get this straight once and for all. We don’t care if you are a guy ordering a corset for yourself. We only care that we help you find your size and that you are thrilled when your order arrives. Save your stories, honey. Though amusing, Fifi has been around the block a few times and I know that you didn’t lose a bet with your bowling buddies and have to dress as a woman for a week. The pink bra and panties are for you. So what?

A few weeks ago, a customer wrote to me about the size 2X Maid’s Costume she purchased. She thanked us profusely and then went on to tell us that she has enjoyed watching her husband do housework in it. I had to admire her. She fulfilled not only her fantasy, but mine. A husband that does housework, how divine is that?

Dressing up is good for the soul. Actors know how liberating it is to be someone else, Halloween allows us to live in a fantasy world for just a little while. So let’s do it!

I have to get back to packing now, so I will close for this week. I am ready with my tape and pink tissue and will wrap your purchase personally and blow a kiss to each package as it leaves the building. I know they don't do that at Victoria's Secret, but that's how we roll at Lovefifi.com.

Wishing you all a happy and safe Halloween. Before I go, I am sending you a link to one of my favorite pieces of television. Jimmy Kimmel had parents tell their kids that they ate all of their Trick-or-Treat candy. It's hilarious!

Driver's Education

I don't know if I have ever mentioned it, but I am not a big fan of driving. I must have been an heiress in my previous life because being driven just feels so much more natural. My grown kids know how to get on my good side when they make plans and then ask me if Miss Daisy would like to be picked up. Hell yes!

Unfortunately, I am still doing my own driving for the time being. It's not that I mind being behind the wheel. I have a very comfortable climate controlled car with music and news at my fingertips and a moon roof if I should ever feel sporty. It's what is outside of my vehicle that drives me crazy about driving. For me, driving means that I have to endure an unfathomable amount of stupid.

Let's start with billboard advertising. These big companies spend bazillions of dollars to get their brand across in the nano-second it takes a car to pass by. Wouldn't you think the content would be easy to read and their message understandable? A bit of cleverness might even make drivers-by remember what they are selling. I can't tell you how many times my sister and I have been stuck in bumper to bumper freeway traffic and one of us will point and say " explain that billboard to me". Most of the time neither one of us gets the message in stop and go rush hour traffic so I doubt that many drivers are getting inspired to try the product at 65 miles per hour.

So even if I am not distracted by lame billboards, there is still so much going on to make my drive aggravating. People do crazy things while driving. It is illegal to hold a cell phone and talk yet I see people doing it all the time. What is it about the term "hands free" that is so difficult to understand? I see drivers blatantly holding their phones and talking. What could possibly be so important that you would risk the lives of others and not just pull over? What about the folks that hold their cell phones low in the palm of their hand with the screen facing towards the sky? Now that's a natural looking pose. The only other time a human holds their hand like that is when they are clutching a deck of cards and getting ready to deal 5 card stud. Yeah, I bet the police haven't figured out that you're on your phone.

We all know that we should never text and drive. The public service announcements make a strong point. But how about all the other inane things people do while they are driving that no one ever talks about? In all fairness, I will gender-ize what I have seen. Men first. I have seen guys reading the paper, brushing their teeth, and shaving while driving. As far as the ladies go, we do violate the cell phone rules at least as much as the men, but we tend to do things like putting on mascara etc. at stop lights. I admit to refreshing my lip gloss or reviewing my "to do" list while the car is stopped and I am waiting for the light to change. Women are notoriously better multi-taskers than men, so it is understandable that women may be able to perform womanly or motherly duties safely while behind the wheel, but even the fairer sex has been known to step over the bounds of good sense. Nothing illustrates this better than when my sister was stopped at a signal and the woman behind her rear ended my sisters car. The ladies pulled over and once they assured each other that no one was hurt, the woman admitted that her foot slipped off the brake pedal while she was trying to pump breast milk. True story. I can't make stuff like this up. The girls and cars were fine and they both had a good laugh.

I will continue to do things while waiting at signals. I am good at it and I never have to worry about knowing when it is time to go because there is always some impatient ass behind me who will hit the horn the second the light goes green.

Because there is little hope that i will have a chauffeur in the near future, I have found ways to engage my brain as to make my journeys more like learning experiences. It is increasingly more curious to study the cars and the people who drive them. There are human behaviors attached to what people choose to drive, you know. Vehicles can't speak, but yet....they do.

Big trucks and SUV's are the alpha dogs of the highway. Because they have big cars, these drivers think they own the road. I find it best to just let them have their way. Their bullying egos, rising gas prices and karma will do them in eventually. Trust me. No one needs a car the size of a 747 and those who indulge in the "bigger is better" philosophy will pay the price one way or another.

Some women who drive fancy foreign cars have very much the same kind of attitude. Their car is an extension of who they are. How sad to let your automobile define you. Ok, I need to rethink that statement. I would never lie to you. If I went to my garage and found that the Bentley fairy left me a brand new white one, I would let my car define me without hesitation. I'm just sayin'.....

Don't you love those "kid cars "? You know, the ones made for the youth market. Some of them are really cute. The Soul, the Cube and those adorable Fiats all just scream young and moving on up. When I was in my 20's, there weren't special cars or a niche market for my age group. I was lucky to get my Aunt Helen's Ford Falcon on a payment plan.

See, my time on the road isn't for naught. I have used my drive time wisely but it's still not my favorite thing to do. You can learn an awful lot about this country and it's people by just looking out your car windows. Yes people, and let's DO remember that the drivers seat is surrounded by windows and others can see in. Keep your hands on the wheel and out of your nose. Ladies, keep you skirt pulled down and your knees together. My cousin is a long haul trucker and he has seen more body parts by accident than he cares to share.

Until next time.

P.S. Drive safely. We have a date next week.

Lady In De-Stress

Miss Fifi has been away this week on a fabulous adventure. She will tell you all about it in next week’s article, complete with photos!

In her absence, we, her loyal staff, decided to run one of our favorite Fifi Articles from a few years ago. Her daughters were in their late teens and early 20s and still living at home. Since Mother's Day is just around the corner, we thought this one would bring big smiles.

I was having a bit of a heated conversation with one of my teenage daughters a couple of weeks ago (imagine that!), and just as I was making my point, she patted me on the arm and said, “Chill, Mom, you need to chill out”.

A few days ago, my “assister”, Del, (she’s my assistant, but also my sister... get it?) heard me on the phone giving up the last piece of my mind to someone I do business with. She hurried in after I slammed down the phone, held my hands and said “Breathe, honey... breathe”.

So maybe I don’t deal with stress well. I have a lot on my mind. It’s not like I am the only one or something. I have seen zillions of talk shows where they discuss how women can learn to deal with stress through yoga, aromatherapy, mountain climbing, knitting, and a myriad of other ways.

As I was standing in line at the market the other night, I was thumbing through one of those magazines that have the world “Women” in the title. An article caught my eye that claimed you could alleviate a week’s worth of stress in less than an hour by turning your bathroom into a spa. It sounded dreamy, so I threw the magazine down on the conveyer thingy with the rest of my groceries, being careful to toss it face down so no one would know what I was buying. I sure as hell wouldn’t want anyone to think I was going to be making the “spring bouquet” from egg cartons and pipe cleaners that they had on the cover. I may be a hot mess in the stress department, but I have some pride.

When I got home, I called my sweet daughters down to haul in the groceries (I love kids) while I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom and threw off my clothes. I gave a sigh as I opened my article and anxiously began the first paragraph.

Run a tepid bath, it advised. Tepid? What is tepid? I’ve heard the word before but I have gotten through a lot of years with cold, warm and hot being the only temperatures in my repertoire. No wonder this world is so stressed out. You need a dictionary to take a bath. I filled the tub with warm water and continued to read: Add 3 to 4 dozen fresh rose petals to the drawn water, it went on. Damn! How am I going to get fresh roses from the yard when I am already naked? And then I remembered the little vase of silk flowers that grace the back of the commode. These will do, I said to myself, as I sprayed the fake roses with perfume and threw them into my spa bath. They then suggested soft music to accompany the experience. Ah ha! I have a radio right here in the bathroom. I turned it on but nothing happened. Funny, it was working this morning when my daughters were taking their showers. At second glance, I realized that the cavity that holds the batteries was exposed and the AA batteries were gone. I was not happy, but I was not about to break my Zen-ny momentum by trying to find out who stole the batteries. It won't be any of my daughters who live here, I can assure you. They will all be innocent. So, it must be those same gypsies who come through and eat all the cookies and take all the pens and pencils. Mystery solved. As I slid into my bath, I was not about to be undone because of the radio. I decided that I would just sing my stress away. The article insisted on music, so I will just make my own.

The next step, according to the magazine, was to pull the plug in the tub and let very warm water “gush luxuriously” into the bath. The only trouble is that I live in an old house so you can’t take a shower or run the bathtub when someone is using the washing machine. Someone obviously was doing just that so the water was just dripping annoyingly on my toes.

Defeat is not in my vocabulary, so I closed my eyes, sunk into the warmth of the perfumed water, and sang the only song I know all the words to. For a moment I was delivered from the chaos of the real world. I became deliciously lost in my own private sanctuary. Heaven!

It wasn’t until I noticed a draft on my shoulder that I opened my eyes and saw that my two youngest daughters (18 and 19) were watching me in horror as I sat in a tub of fake roses, singing “Puff the Magic Dragon” with all I had in me.

Before I could say a word in my own defense, the girls were gone. As I arose from my bath feeling stupid, and cold, (I think I figured out what tepid is), I was bound and determined that I would emerge from this experience with a new sense of well-being despite a few setbacks.

I got dressed and decided to get in touch with my artistic side. I gathered up a few things from around the house, poured myself a glass of wine and retreated to a back bedroom and allowed my creativity to emote. You know, it’s amazing how attractive egg carton flowers can look if you know what you’re doing.

An afternoon devoted to my body and spirit was really good for me. Not even my girls were going to ruin my personal renaissance. I was never going to mention or explain what they had witnessed. This day belonged to ME. I honestly felt the stress of my crazy world float away. I felt renewed and completely marvelous.

It wasn't until I heard my daughters on the computer in the next room and the gales of giggles that followed that I realized that my stress free day was officially over. Crap! I forgot about Facebook...

Miss Octopus

As I write this column, I am also conditioning my hair and taping a "how-to" show on upholstery. I always do more than one thing at a time. Take last night, for instance. I made tarragon chicken while talking to my sister on the phone. The cord is long, so I was able to mosey into the service porch and throw in a load of wash, too. And, while I was there, I fed the cat, watered the Creeping Charlie and folded the clothes. My daughters passed by and as I intently listened to my sister, I used a sock for punctuation, and asked my girls in my own special “mom” sign language if their homework was done and if the table was set. I returned to the kitchen, made a salad, prepared a shopping list for the next day, and unloaded the dishwasher. At no time did I miss a beat or let on to my sister that I was doing something else. Her story about her afternoon at the dermatologist—though riveting—did not require my full attention.

I am proud that I can do a million things at once. It’s a good thing, since I am a working mother. With two kids in college, the prospect of me getting a staff in the near future is pretty remote. I have been doing this all my life, but now they have named it. It’s called “multi-tasking”. Well, whoop-dee-DOO! I call it “getting things done.” I wish there were a Multi-Tasking World Cup. I would love to compete. I would kick ass.

I think my personal best was a few Saturdays ago. One of my readers, Melissa, who lives in Southern California, wrote to me and asked if I would PLEASE measure her for a bra in person. My sister asked if I would help her with her garage sale on the same day. As it turns out, Melissa doesn’t live far from my sister, so I gave her the address and told her to come to the sale.

When she arrived, I was in the middle of taking the money for my sister’s jeans that had shrunk in the closet, while also trying to convince this couple that macramé planters were coming back into style. I scurried Miss Melissa into the house, measured her, calculated her size, gave her some bra tips, and was back in the thick of the sale before anyone noticed I was gone. I waved her goodbye as I ordered lunch to be delivered on my cell phone and sold my sister’s Flab-Buster before Melissa even got to the corner. I was hot!

My multi tasking black belt should arrive anytime.

By the way, Melissa, if you are out there, I loved meeting you, honey. Oh and the armadillo clock is still available. Let me know.