Elephantastic

I am preparing to leave on what I feel is a well deserved vacation. My sister, two of my best friends in life and I are all going on a one week cruise together. We have been paying for it for a year, so when we step on board it will feel good to know that the trip itself is completely paid for.

I pulled out my luggage to prepare for the tedious job of packing. It's so much fun to pack to go on a ship because most everything you wear is comfortable but there is also a serious fashion show that goes on among the women passengers. It starts for me weeks before we leave. I have to get myself ready, but I am also my sister's "stylist". Before she retired and came to work with me at Lovefifi.com, she wore a dark blue police uniform for a couple of decades. Now that she is free to channel her inner fashionista, she worries constantly about what she is going to wear for everything. It took me years to get her to loosen up and wear color. She has progressed to letting her hair down considerably and even has a bit of a funky streak now and then. I am very proud. The trouble is that she has no faith in her own taste and makes me yay or nay every item she plans to wear on the trip. Our vacation is only a few days away and sister is now in the packing stage. Thank goodness!

I have done so much business traveling that I am a whiz at packing. Packing for cruise is easy because there is no limit to how many suitcases you can take. The only challenge comes with trying to put everything away in a tiny little room, with an even teenier closet. Then you have to multiply that amount by 2 for sister's stuff. Thankfully the suitcases fit under the beds, but space is limited.

I won't lie to you, I am a heavy packer. I bring the absolute most I can and still manage to have places to put it away. I am not one of those people who brings exactly the same number of outfits as there are days with a few additions for night time. I don't know what mood I will be in when I wake up. I need to go to my part of the closet and have choices. I always bring home lots of clothes that I never wore. That's OK with me. I'm happy the whole time knowing I could go with most any fashion whim and change several times a day if I cared to. Unfortunately, my sister has learned this from me and usually we have enough clothes to stay for a month.

So, I don't pack light. Shoot me. I am not changing. I am, however, very smart about luggage. I don't believe that people put any thought into luggage when they buy it. Just look at the carousel at baggage claim the next time you fly. You will see a preponderance of black suitcases going around interspersed with about a dozen Louis Vuitton bags. The rest are often gray, brown or navy with only a handful of distinctive bags that are easy to identify. This is so stupid to me. As prestigious and expensive as the Vuitton bags may be, they still look alike. If you're intent on having a brown suitcase with initials, why not stencil your own damn initials on it? OK, your name is not French and probably won't impress anyone, but you will probably be able to find your luggage without a hitch. They don't check you at the door anymore to see if you have the right bag. What do you think is the most stolen item off of luggage carousels? Louis Vuitton.

It is a mystery to me why people buy black luggage, or even gray or navy. Some of it is very expensive and high end. What is the point in spending a fortune for luxury luggage when you have to hang homemade yarn pom pom from it show that it is yours?

I have been in the lost luggage booth at the airport many times. They always show you pictures of different shaped bags and ask you to point to the one that is most like yours. They ask you the color and if there are any distinguishing features of the luggage to make it easier for them to find it. Knowing full well that what I see at the baggage claim pretty much all looks the same, I set out years ago to make my life as stress free as possible when I travel.

I buy new suitcases every 5 or 6 years. When I shop I always imagine what it will look like going around in circles in the sea of plain dark suitcases. I like to shop online and find the most attractive set I can that will stand out in the crowd. My current set is very handsome, but I don't think there are a lot of people who truly understood it's unique beauty like I did. It's navy blue with a snazzy contrasting trim and it has Indian Elephants printed on every square inch of it. When I wave down a porter to help me with my baggage and he asks how many bags and what my bags look like, all I have to say is that they are 2 and that they are navy blue with elephants. The minute they come out of the shoot, my elephant print bags are rock stars among the rest and I am out of there in a flash. If, heaven forbid, my luggage never comes to the carousel, my time with the lost luggage people is short and sweet. Navy blue elephant print. My cases are never lost for long because they are easy to spot even if they went to Cleveland instead of Chicago.

Now, imagine instead of 250 people on a flight with luggage waiting at baggage claim, you are on a ship with a couple of thousand over-packers at the terminal baggage claim. My luggage is never where it is supposed to be but it never takes long to find it. Those sweet elephants never fail to find me, one way or the other.

So, the next time you are in the market for a set of luggage, consider buying something that stands out. They still sell my set on wayfair.com. It's called Budapest, by American Flyer and I won't mind if you have a set a too. I always get super excited when I pull out the elephant bags and get ready for a trip. My pretty little pachyderms give me style and flair and let me know that we are going on an adventure. And the best part about it all? No yarn pom poms required.

Minimal Husbandry

I don't think it's any secret that I am divorced. I take care of everything myself or at least that's what people think. My house is in good order. Nothing is broken or in disrepair. My garden is lovely. My car is well-maintained. My finances are orderly. How do I do all this and still run LoveFifi.com? I couldn't do it without my husbands. That's right, my husbands... plural. Yes, I am indeed divorced. I was married for a very long time to a good man who honestly was best at making a living. He couldn't fix a thing. He didn't know a socket wrench from a screwdriver and had no desire to learn, so I figured out early on that if something broke, it was my job to find someone who could do the repair and not cost a fortune. It was kind of that way with everything. He was very important, so I took care of maintaining our life. I also had a career and a truck load of kids to take care of but I am not complaining. Actually in a weird way, my marriage prepared me for being single and on my own at this time of my life.

Back to my husbands. When you are in charge of a lot of "departments" let's call them, such as when running a household, you have to have a team of people that you can rely on at a moment's notice. I was always on the lookout for honest and talented people who could do the things we couldn't. I asked a lot of questions, nosed around a bit, and before long, I had quite a repertoire of butchers, bakers and candlestick makers who could take care of our needs. It got to the point that I had a killer list of plumbers, electricians, gardeners, handy guys and more who were tested and had my seal of approval. I was Angie's List long before Angie ever thought of it. If somebody I know needed a dependable person to fix or build something, or a good affordable mechanic or a tree trimmer, they would call me. The one thing that I was always most grateful for was that even when these guys got super busy because of my recommendations, they always took care of me and my family immediately.

Then comes 2007. I get a divorce. I buy a place of my own in another neighborhood. I am alone. It's not like I was married to a handyman and went through "fix it" shock as I was now used to finding someone else to do it. It turned out to be a blessing that I was married to the unhandiest man in the universe and it was then that I realized that I held the key to a happy life as a single woman. So once again, as I settled into my new life and my new home, I found talented and reliable guys to take care of the things that I can't do or don't care to do. Once I find someone great, I add them to my list, but this time I don't share them with the world. What I do is take care of them. I always offer coffee, cold drinks and food when one of my wonderful workers is doing something for me. I turn sports on the TV in every room in the house. They like to fix things for me and make me happy just like a husband does. That's what I have been told, but I have never been involved with a man who could fix anything so I wouldn't know for sure. But in apple pie America, that's what I hear goes on in homes.

So I affectionately call these men my husbands. It takes a lot of them doing everything really well to make me happy. No one man could ever come close and it works out well. I have my Handy Man Husband, Pete. He takes his coffee with heavy cream and two sugars. He has a key to my house and if something breaks, I can call him from work and he can fix it when I am not home. Sometimes I don't even see him and whatever it is gets fixed as if by magic. My Gardening Husband, Carlos (black coffee or Coca Cola... I stock both), not only trims, prunes, fertilizes my flowers, he fills up my bird feeders and waters for me when I am out of town. I have a Mechanic Husband, Sandy, who'd really like to be my husband, so I play it a little cooler with him. I don't know how he takes his coffee and I never will. I am just sweet and funny and give him lots of smiles and gratefulness. He has a giant crush on me and calls me personally to let me know when it's time for my car to be serviced. He has rescued me many times and done miracles so I wouldn't be without a vehicle. Believe it or not, I have a Manicure Husband, Kenny. Yep, the person who does my nails is a man. His beautiful wife Eve does my pedicures, so everything is Kosher. I do allow my husbands to have real wives, as long as they treat us both well. I have a Dog Groomer Husband, Jason. He delivers my dogs to me at the house if I need him too. I am his favorite customer because I have brought him a ton of business and he loves my dogs. I have a husband for every task a person has to endure to get things done. I don't know what collective noun you would use to describe my congregation of husbands. Well, it's a gaggle of geese, a pride of lions, a flush of ducks and a pod of whales. A herd of husbands, maybe?

Anyway, I am very well taken care of and I take very good care of my guys. All I need now is a husband husband who can devote his time to loving me, making me laugh, kissing me, hugging me and I will gladly do the same for him. And the good news is that he doesn't have to do much around the house. My husbands are all happily married, so I don't think much will change.

Honestly, finding a real husband for me is easier than finding, let's say... a good electrician. But finding a real husband would entail dating unless things have changed. I hate dating. You know, I think I will see if Angie can recommend a husband husband for me. Her recommendation service has come a long way and you never know.

My Darlings

Before I get on with what I have to say, let me wish you all a very Merry Christmas. I know this sounds odd, but here at LoveFifi.com it is the Holidays. We are in turbo gear getting ready for the Fall,Christmas and Valentine's seasons. It all has to be done in July-September in order to be ready with new and exciting lingerie delicacies for you. We are hurrying like mad to get it all done in the next few weeks... and you guessed it, I can't write an article this week.

I love writing about what's on my mind, but at the moment, what's on my mind is a big meeting with the whole staff on Monday about "Gifts with Purchase" and give-aways for my customers that are in the works! We have our last photo shoot of the year coming up next Tuesday and one of our models just dropped out and I am scrambling to find a replacement. I am writing descriptions for our new items as fast as I can so we can get the new goodies up and ready for you to view. The list goes on.

I had fully intended to spill the beans about what really goes on in yoga class. I just had my second session and I am ready to tell all. The truth of the matter is that I am out-of-my-mind busy and I am not going to write something that doesn't make you laugh. I promise my yoga experience will make you laugh out loud, but it's not going to be until next week. Hopefully you can wait. You have always been so forgiving when I can't commit to a real article and I hope you will understand this time, too.

I let you in on so much of my life, I feel I can write to you and explain when I am up to my ass in alligators. Yes, I said ass. They can say it on prime time television, so I can say it here. By the way, if you find "ass" offensive, you might not want to read my yoga article next week. You have no idea what goes on in Yogaland.

I am pretty stressed out and I am hopeful that yoga will help me cope. As you will discover next week, I kinda don't get it yet, but I am giving it my all.

Love and ohmmmmmmmmmmm,

Driving Me Nuts

I am going through an identity crisis and I am not happy about it. One would think that by the time you hit mid-life, you would be pretty much evolved and know exactly who you are. Not so.

The time has come for me to buy a new car. My Jaguar just had her 14th birthday, and although she is still very pretty and has only a little more than 100,000 miles on her, she does not suit my life anymore. I am tired of laying out garbage bags on the leather seats when I go buy new flowers for my garden.

I am constantly shopping for my next car. I haven’t been to a dealership yet, but I notice every car (and its driver) when I am out and about. I feel no shame when I peer inside a car I am considering in order to see the interior when at a parking lot. Because I never drive very far, I keep cars for a long time, so I need to do a really good job of choosing Ruby’s(she’s red) successor. I also have to buy a car that my sister likes. I am always happy to use my car when we go somewhere, but I like it best when she drives.She loves to drive and I hate it. It doesn’t even bother me that when I throw her the keys she rolls her eyes and calls me Miss Daisy. Sticks and stones, baby. I even considered buying a pre-owned Porsche. She’d want to drive that all the time and it would be great. But I have decided against a Porsche out of respect for the Porsche Corporation and their reputation for fast, precision sports cars. There would be a lot of times when I would be driving it myself. I imagine that they would not want to see one of their cars in the slow lane, my favorite, or plugging along behind a truck, never passing, because I don’t do that.

There is so much to consider when choosing a car. A conscientious consumer like myself must think about efficiency, eco-friendliness and the practicality of the vehicle. And when I get done with that, there’s how the car looks, what color it is and how will I feel when the valet drives up in it and nods to tell me my car is here. I am not going to lie to you, I want a car that is sexy.

It’s not that I don’t worry about my carbon footprint, I do. I just don’t think an electric car is for me. I can’t even remember to plug in my cell phone to stay connected to the world, so an electric vehicle is really out of the question. And do I dare say it without offending? They’re ugly. I am at a place in my life where I can drive any kind of car that I can afford. Driving around in a car that is shaped like the business end of a Dustbuster does not appeal to me.

When it comes to cars, I have paid my dues, for heaven’s sake. Please... I drove an apple green Gremlin in the '70s because that’s all I could afford. I will never forget the smile on that salesman’s face when I drove off in that thing. It served me well, but I had no privacy. I could be spotted from the moon and people were always telling me where they had seen me around town.

When I got married and had babies, I drove vans. I could carry a gaggle of kids, a pile of sports equipment and still have room for an ass-load of groceries in the back. It’s what I needed at the time and I never gave it a thought. Some of my favorite photos of my kids are of them doing the luggage handling on top of the van for family vacations. I was always such an overprotective mother; my kids were amazed that I actually let them get up on top of such a tall vehicle. I was there to catch them if they fell and I didn’t give a crap about what happened to the car... it was a van.

Then the kids grew up and went off to college. My ex-husband decided that I needed a snazzy car for a change. He found this very beautiful Jaguar with every detail and extra they came with at the time and he insisted that I have it. He made me sit in it at the dealership to see what I looked like in the driver’s seat. Both he and the salesman had pretend heart attacks as I sat at the wheel. It was really cute and I experienced what it feels like to sit in a glamorous car for the first time. If anyone out there knows my ex-husband’s girlfriend, please feel free to tell her that story.

Anyway, I am so befuddled as to what to get. I don’t want a car that is too young for me and I don’t want one that has geezer written all over it. I don’t have to buy a giant vehicle that will hold a softball team or a certain one because I am Mrs. Somebody. I want to drive something that reflects the person I am now, but I just don’t know what that is. I am getting to the place with my car research where I now see cars on the road and mumble to myself what Consumer Reports had to say about it. I am ready to face the car salespeople. I am unafraid.

I am hoping that test driving cars is like trying on wedding dresses. It would be great if I just KNEW it was the one. All I want is a car that I can afford to drive that shines like a piece of jewelry on the outside and is sumptuous on the inside. My Jaguar has more polished wood than my dining room, so I am spoiled. I am terrified of buying something that I will regret. I have no trouble with buying a car that is “pre-owned and certified”. It doesn’t have to be new, just not 14 years old. The new cars all look like belly buttons these days. They don’t come in real colors unless they are bugs, Fiats, Smart Cars or half a million dollar sports cars. If I didn’t know what 50 Shades of Gray was about, I would think it was about the colors cars come in.

Now all I need is your help. If you are driving your dream car, tell me what it is and why it called to you. I am open to sedans, SUVs, jeeps.. you name it. Talk to me! Help me. Just one thing... no vans.

The Pretty Committee

I am so in love with HGTV and the whole DIY thing. I watch endless hours of TV that focus on making over ugly '70s houses and other neglected properties. The experts turn these places into chic, sophisticated homes that match the owner’s persona perfectly. The transformations are amazing.

It occurred to me the other day, while we were in the midst of our marathon photo shoot, that the same treatment should be given to people, especially us ladies. We sometimes get so busy with day to day life that we forget to spruce up or modernize our look. Just like well-built homes, we girls have “good bones” and all we need is an update. Let me get back to what happened with the models. We went on an extensive model search for “fluffier” girls who hopefully had some modeling experience. The plus-sized models world is very narrow and the same girls are used all the time. We wanted our own “dream team” of beauty-FULL models to represent LoveFifi.

The gorgeous six ladies who won out over the competition are extraordinary and have such amazing self-esteem. Even though most of them were first timers in front the camera, their confidence and femininity ignited their shots in a way that is indescribable. Imagine watching the most exquisite butterfly you have ever seen and there are fireworks exploding behind it in the sky. That’s what it felt like watching these lovelies express their inner and outer beauty in front of the camera.

You know I am very random, so please stick with me on this one. I am getting to the point. Before a model goes on set, she spends about 2 hours in hair and makeup. This was very exciting for my new models. For my straight size models, this is part of their professional day-to-day experience and they are privy to every beauty trick in the book. It’s just part of their lives. For my curvy girls, who are all very pretty, sitting in the makeup chair was like Disneyland. My beauty team, who I call The Pretty Committee, are the best in the business. Each and every one of my plus-sized girls was overwhelmed with the results which only added to their swagger when they stepped in front of the camera. Even though these girls were brimming with faith in themselves as women and were very comfortable with their bodies, they had never been polished up to their potential brilliance.

Ok, the point is coming... We all get so stuck in our routines that we don’t make time to upgrade our look. We leaf through magazines with all the new trends in hair and makeup in front of our faces and then put on our sweats, throw our hair in a ponytail, pop on our sunglasses and that’s as good as it gets. I am guilty it, too.

Only movie stars and celebrities have hair and makeup experts on staff. We regular girls have to be a little more resourceful. I am going to initiate a new movement and I hope all my ladies out there will be a part of it. It’s called DIYB... Do It Yourself, Baby.

First, take out older photos of yourself from 2,5,10 years ago. Do you still have the same hairdo? I did. We all buy makeup and hair products, how much of it do we only use once and eventually throw away?

Here’s where the DIYB starts. You can have your own Pretty Committee for very little money, or at least, money you would have spent anyway. Start getting the most out of it. The next time you go for a trim, ask the hairdresser if he/she were given the green light to do anything they wanted with your hair, what would they suggest? Assuming that you go to a contemporary salon and not one of those places that does that does shampoo-and-sets for blue-haired old ladies, you will probably get an answer worth listening to. Stylists have to keep up with the times and their suggestions are usually good. They also see you your beauty potential in a much different light than you do. Let them impart their expertise to you. They are the expert. Consider making a small change. Layers or bangs or some highlights are easy and can make an astonishing difference. If you never go to the hairdresser, spend a little money to go to a decent one every once in a while. And ask questions.

Is there anything more enticing than the makeup aisles Wal-Mart or Target? I am a big fan of drug store beauty products, but there is no one in those places who has a clue as to what would look good on you. Every department store in America has extensive beauty counters with smock-wearing makeup girls who are often employed not by the store, but by the makeup brand. They are trained to make women look better so that you will buy the products. They are at the ready to plunk you down on a stool and make you over. Let them! Ask for a hand mirror so you can look between every step. It doesn’t really matter which brand you choose. Look for the girl who you think looks the best and whose makeup is tastefully applied. Be careful not to get lassoed in by anyone who looks like a geisha, a call girl or a member of Kiss. Listen to every word. Watch every step. You'll have to buy something and my advice is to get a foundation (they are trained to match skin tones and the quality is very good) and/or a makeup primer (trust me, primer is too high tech for drug stores). Everything else can come from Walgreen's once you know what you need. Have her stroke a little blush on a tissue so you can match it later. If you don’t like the total result, come back another day and go to another brand. It’s basically a free service and besides, it’s fun.

And the last members of your own personal Pretty Committee are the people in your life. Please LISTEN to what they say when you have put all your new knowledge to work. It will happen and it feels so good.

My sweet mother never went out of the house without her “face” on. Her hair was always coiffed. She used to say that if you look good, you feel good. It’s true. How about a little DIYB? Are you in?

Just to get you going, I have printed photos of some of my new models when I met them, and after the experts got their hands on them. My butterflies...

Wedding Bliss

If you read me every week, you know that I went to Las Vegas last weekend for my niece's wedding. It was the sweetest, most precious day. The whole experience was beyond wonderful.

My niece calls me her fairy godmother. I love that a lot and do everything I can to be magical. The couple paid for the whole wedding and reception themselves, so I did what I could to help out. My sister, my daughter and yours truly hauled make-up, hair rollers and a ton of other beauty items to Vegas and turned ourselves into the Glam Squad.

The morning of the wedding, we all plied ourselves with 20 oz. lattes and whipped the bridal party into gorgeous goddesses. It was the most chaotic scene you can imagine. There wasn’t an inch of mirror space in that hotel room that didn’t have at least two ladies curling, powdering or eye lining. We finished on time without a hiccup. Everyone looked amazingly beautiful. It was time for the bride and her posse to leave for the chapel when all hell broke loose. “OMG!”, my niece yelled out. "I don’t have anything BLUE!” She was panicked. It wasn't like the matrimonial police were going to check her for the traditional something old, something new, etc... but we all know that brides want everything perfect. I quickly got a big hand mirror out and showed her that I had added some tiny pale baby blue Swarovski stones to her floral headpiece just in case. She was relieved and I was triumphant. This was not my first rodeo, folks. And that is why I am her fairy godmother. The “something blue” always gets forgotten. I then started thinking about where the whole tradition started.

It derives from an old English rhyme, “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a sixpence in your shoe." Something old represents continuity in your new life, something new offers optimism for the future, something borrowed symbolizes borrowed happiness that you are taking from brides before you who have had happy marriages and something blue stands for purity, love and fidelity. The sixpence in your shoe(we used a quarter from California) is a wish for good fortune and prosperity.

A very sweet tradition, indeed, but this got me thinking. As I was sitting out the chicken dance at the reception, I pulled out my smart phone and looked up wedding traditions around the world. So while I am still in the wedding zone, let me share some very fun “who knew?” tidbits with you.

1. Queen Victoria started the Western world tradition on the white wedding dress trend in 1840. Before that, brides just wore their best dress.

2. Engagement and wedding bands are worn on the 4th finger of the left hand because it was thought that a vein in that finger led directly to the heart.

3. A groom carries the bride across the threshold to bravely protect her from the evil spirits that might be lurking.

4. The tradition of the wedding cake comes from ancient Rome, where revelers broke a loaf of bread over the bride's head to insure fertility.

5. In many cultures around the world, including Celtic, Hindu and Egyptian weddings, the hands of the bride and groom are literally tied together to demonstrate the couple’s commitment to each other, giving us the expression, tying the knot.

6. In Ireland (I love this one), the presence of bells is very important. The ringing of a bell helps to keep the evil spirits at bay. Irish brides often mix tiny bells in their wedding bouquet and a bell is considered a great wedding gift. It is thought that if a couple carries a bell into married life and keeps it in a safe place at home, they can ring it to stop an argument by reminding them of their wedding day and their vows.

7. Greek brides tuck a sugar cube into their glove because it is said to create a sweeter union.

8. Moraccan women take a bath in milk before the ceremony to purify themselves. I wonder if there are cookies that go with that deal?

See what extremes I go to in order to keep you all informed? I didn’t mind sitting out on a bit of the wedding fun to enlighten you. Actually, I already rock at the chicken dance, so I didn’t need the practice.

Ta Ta for now!

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.

Rich Girl

I never told you, but I am rich. I don’t have tons of money, but I do have some of the best jokes and funny sayings in the world rattling around in my head. I have such respect for all things clever that when I hear something good, I always remember it. People think I am a fabulous conversationalist and quite hilarious because I love to slip in these pearls of wisdom whenever I can. You see, I have the whole world writing my material for me, so how could I sound anything but brilliant?

I have a collection of great “one-liners” that I pull out of my mental filing cabinet. I have no idea who really came up with these gems, because if I did, I would give them due credit. But since most of my favorites are author-less, I will just share them so all of us can enjoy and LAUGH and feel good. Socrates and Plato were great philosophers, but some pretty great stuff has come from just regular folks like us.

• Some days are a waste of make-up
• Learn from the mistakes of others. We can’t live long enough to make them all ourselves.
• If you are too open-minded, your brains will fall out.
• Age is a very high price to pay for maturity.
• If you must choose between 2 evils, pick the one you’ve never done before.
• If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the vacation.
• Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
• A conscience is what hurts when everything else feels so good.
• Men are from Earth, Women are from Earth. Deal with it.
• A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.
• There is always one more idiot than you counted on.
• Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.
• By the time you make ends meet, someone moves the ends.
• Junk is something you’ve kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.

Are you smiling? I hope so. Did you know that humans are the only creatures on earth who can laugh? It's true. Do it often

This Little Fifi Went To Market...

There is probably no task that I hate more than going to the grocery store. If I ever win the lottery, the first thing I will do is hire an assistant that goes to the market for me.

When I was raising a family, I took food shopping much more seriously than I do now. It was part of being the mama lion and nurturing my family and nobody did it better than I did. I used to shop with a shoebox full of carefully catalogued coupons. I was constantly clipping the cents-off coupons from every magazine and newspaper I could get my hands on.

On marketing day, I would spend hours going up and down the aisles stretching every dollar as far as I could. I often filled up two baskets to the brim. At the end, I turned in all my coupons and tried to guess what my savings would be. It was a game to me and I was good at it.

As I stood by the open tailgate of my “mom van” (yes, I had one of those, but please keep it to yourself) and watched the box person load bag after bag of discounted grocery items, I felt such pride. I stood there clutching my yards of register tape as triumphantly as if I had just won an Oscar.

I would spend hours going up and down the aisles stretching every dollar as far as I could.

Grocery shopping was a huge deal back in those days. It took the better part of a day to accomplish and you had to have an unstoppable rhythm. I also learned early on that your success as the household shopper had to have a set of stringent rules.

Rule #1 - You NEVER let your husband go with you. Despite the fact that he is good for any heavy lifting of 50lb. bags of dog kibble or the ginormous size laundry detergent, there is no amount of budgeting and coupon clipping that will offset what he sneaks into the basket. It does you no good to scrimp and save and wait for double coupon day, if you end up with garlic-stuffed cannonball olives, an extra large bag of beef jerky, and Macadamia nuts carefully concealed and then revealed at checkout. Men can’t help it, so leave them at home.

Rule #2 - Never ask if anyone needs or wants anything. When you shop with coupons and are a slave to sale items, no special requests. They get what’s on “special” and the fact that someone else is filling the cupboards for their eating pleasure is special enough. Let your family know not to fall in love with anything you bring home, because they might not get it again.

Rule #3 - If you are shopping for a lot of people, it’s a very tiring job. I believe that the shopper is entitled to at least one food favorite as a reward for all their good work. I love Fig Newtons and tried for years to find a hiding place that no one could discover. I sucked at it, because when I was ready to relax with a cup of tea and some Newtons a few days later, I would go to the hiding place in the kitchen to find an empty Nabisco package. Kids and husbands have food radar. I should have hidden them behind the ironing board or behind the folded sheets in the linen closet. Not a chance anyone in my family would have found them. You live and learn.

Those days are all behind me now. It’s just me and the dogs. Although I haven’t clipped a coupon in a long time, I still hate going to the store for a whole different reason. Now instead of calculating how much I am paying per ounce to get the best bargain, I calculate if I will be able to eat it or use it before I die.

I usually only make myself go to the store if there is nothing for my dogs to eat and/or there is no creamer for my coffee. Once I am there, I am THERE, so I just move down the aisles as fast as I can. There are no bargains for people who live alone. I don’t need a multi-pack of anything and I don’t want to carry it. I get the essentials, fruit, vegetables, English muffins, milk, eggs, Brie, wine, etc.

Nowadays you bring your own bags for the groceries. I am grateful I did the family shopping in the paper or plastic days or I would have to have brought a complete set of Samsonite. I keep my purchases down to a minimum because I like the convenience and speed of the 15 items or less lane. Nothing aggravates me more than people who abuse this. Often times there is still a line but I keep myself occupied by counting exactly how many items each person puts on the conveyer belt and plotting their death if they go over. It’s not the healthiest thinking, but it keeps me completely amused until it’s my turn.

By the way, don’t ever get talked into doing Self Checkout. It’s some kind of trick. First of all, it’s not that convenient or easy. The people who do it easily think they are so cool; they really think they are brilliant. If you look befuddled or don’t go fast enough, the Self Checkout “associate” comes around and flippantly pushes the start button and shows you how to swipe the bar code and then disappears. You start off fine and then you make the mistake of touching the bag at the wrong time and get scolded by some automated voice. I tried to do this before, but if you don’t do it quickly, the guy behind you in the flip flops with a 12 pack of Corona gets antsy and makes you nervous.

The last time I tried to do this, I bought some produce that was missing its sticker and I didn’t know how to continue. Out of nowhere comes the “associate” to help. I don’t know where the Self Checkout helpers fall in the hierarchy of grocery store employees, but these are not happy people. I described my produce problem and she gave me a look that clearly said “Moron!”, shrugged her shoulders, and pushed me out of the way. She made a clicking noise with her tongue while rolling her eyes in disgust. Then she whipped through several screens, pushed too many buttons and asked me for my debit card. She “helped” me complete my transaction and gathered up my bags abruptly, handed them to me and motioned towards the door. Then that brat actually told me to “enjoy the rest of my day”. If I was going to clean the garage for the balance of my day, it would be much more enjoyable than my experience with those people in what I now fondly refer to as “Self Righteous Checkout”.

I think I have let off enough steam for one day. Now I shall go relax with a nice cup of tea... and Fig Newtons.

PETER PAN-demonium

Some days being a grown up is way too complicated. Don’t misunderstand, I have never yearned to reclaim my youth. The truth of the matter is that when I was young I unfortunately refused to take good advice from the wise or learn by the mistakes of others, so an offer to go back in time and suffer from stupidity AGAIN does not turn me on.

But honest to goodness, there are days when it would be so great to be a kid again. When you are a grown-up, it is kind of expected that you are a bit invincible. You are supposed to be able to field any comment from another person with grace and without getting your feelings hurt. It is assumed that a grown-up will be logical and calm and have their wits about them at all times. Overwhelming disappointment is brushed off or put on the back burner before any tears have a chance to well up. That’s the grown-up way, yes indeed-y.

I don’t want to be a child again. There are way more minuses than pluses on this one. I don’t want a bedtime, or school uniform, or math homework. I wouldn’t ever want to relive the worry and fear of being the last one chosen when teams were being formed. One of the best things about being an adult is that you don’t have to fret about being asked to the prom or getting a D or any of that stuff that seems so earth-shatteringly important when you are growing up.

No, I don’t want to go back to “more innocent times”, but damn... I wish I could visit once in a while. When I have to be brave, I always say that I need to take a big girl pill to get the job done. Why can’t there be a pretend pill that allows you to react like a kid? You shouldn’t be allowed to use one often, just for those times when being all grown up is simply not satisfactory. And if someone should happen to mention that you were acting childish, you would know that the pill worked perfectly.

“I don’t want a bedtime or math homework, but there are days when it would be great to be a kid again.”

Occasionally, reacting to painful things like you were 7 years old would come in so handy. For instance, when you whacked your head on the kitchen cabinet hard enough to see stars or stubbed your toe on the bed frame fighting with the duvet cover. Wouldn’t it be cool if it were OK to cry when you got injured, no matter how old you are?

If you could be a child once in a while you wouldn’t have to “suck it up” and act like it doesn’t hurt even though it really does. Grown-ups cover up emotions like a paralyzing fear of spiders. I don't have arachnophobia, but I can sense the fear in others. If a giant spider showed up and other people were around, I would turn into freaking Indiana Jones so they wouldn’t be afraid. It’s funny, some of the strongest people I know, are terrified of spiders.

It would be so good for one's mental health if you could be childish every so often without losing points in the mature world. Think about being at work at a big meeting. If things weren’t going your way, instead of endless tense words and angry debating, what if you could just get up and kick the other guy in the shins and shout “I hate you!” AND it wouldn’t count against you in corporate America?

And what if you don’t get to do something that you have planned and dreamed about? How liberating it would be to indulge in what I think must be the Holy Grail of going back to your childhood... throwing a tantrum.

If someone or something broke your heart, wouldn’t it help to pound on the floor with your hands and feet and scream your lungs out? I will confess I did just that the other day. It felt marvelous and I would highly recommend it to anyone, with the caveat that you don’t do it at Target like I did. It was really no big deal in the end, because just like usual on a Target trip, no one came to help me.

I feel so much better now that I have talked this over with you, my dear readers. I am going to go now and have a glass of champagne and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I have always found that compromise works best for me.

New Years REVOLUTION!

It’s the week of January 1st, and I have been thinking about the resolutions that I will be making. I am very good at coming up with good ones, I just suck at keeping them.

We all have the best intentions at this time of year. We vow to get thin, stop smoking, not swear, or be on time, save more money, etc. The idea of New Year’s resolutions is really a noble thought, but the timing is so stupid.

Think about it. We just got through a month of holiday craziness and turbo-shopping. We have decorated and wrapped ourselves into a blue funk. And if we did it right (and I can assure you that I did), we have ingested so many calories and fat grams that it would take 10 climbs up Mount Everest to burn them off.

So, do we stand back and take a deep breath after it’s all over? Do we rest and recharge? Do we reflect and relax? Hell NO! We turn our lives upside down and try to change a lifetime of bad habits overnight. I think that the idea of the whole world making New Year’s resolutions at the same time is ridiculous. Too many people trying to turn over a new leaf simultaneously just can’t work. There are just too many resolutions floating around in the universe for a significant number of them to stick. People needn’t be so hard on themselves. Baby steps, you know? Baby steps.

It’s time for a full scale revolt on that whole stupid concept of drastic New Year’s Resolutions. Someone needs to shake up this silly ritual and nobody is better at stirring things up than me, Miss Fifi.

Here’s my plan for what I like to call New Year’s Resolution “LITE”. Forget about “cold turkey”, except for the one that’s in the refrigerator.

If you like the idea of starting fresh on the first day of the year, then make a deal with yourself and make a plan to head in the direction of a desired goal. If you need to stop smoking, then look for some help. Try the patch or find a support group.

If you want to lose weight, you can absolutely count on me for tips on how to combine diet and exercise to slim down. You will, however, have to consult with someone else about how NOT to gain it back.

Now if you need help with being on time, I won’t be much help. I am hopeless. I will be late to my own funeral.

So, my sweet darlings, another year is upon us. Sure, we can all do things a little better or a little smarter, but we can e-a-s-e into it, we don’t have to torture ourselves to reach our goals in one fell swoop.

Now I am working on clearing out my kitchen of any “bad” foods that are still left from Christmas. I have already started. I finished off the pumpkin pie for breakfast and I figure I can polish off the chocolate truffles, the toffee and the European butter cookies by New Years Eve morning.

Happy New Year, my dear readers! 2015 is going to be marvelous.