TOMS Shoes: 5 Hoots!

Maybe you like glitz. Or grunge. Go-go? No? Perhaps then you prefer the comfortable, the casual, and the convenient.

Whatever your style profile, there’s good news for your feet: TOMS shoes. From high tops to low tops to platforms to flats, the company offers something that you’ll like. Wait! There’s more. TOMS also carries a shoe that your brother would like. And your daughter. And your mom. And your neighbor. And your boss. And your super picky cousin. Heck, TOMS even has something to offer impoverished children in developing nations.

So what do the following two images have to do with all of this? And what do they have to do with one another?

Answer: for every pair of shoes that you purchase from TOMS, the company donates a pair to a child in need. In their own words:

I know! I’m relieved too. Because here I thought that as do-gooders, we were relegated to the Birkenstock-and-broomskirt brigade. It’s almost unbelievable; here’s this itsy-bitsy Santa Monica startup whose products are now lining the shelves of major retailers like Nordstrom, Amazon, and Nemun Marcus . Its founder Blake Mycoskie started with a seed of an idea, and his mission to become the most “successful, profitable, charitable shoe company in the world” is well underway. (To learn more about Mycoskie’s passion and business acumen, watch the 4 minute video linked below.)

I don’t need to tell you how good it feels to know that by the simple act of purchasing an everyday item, a child in need is going to be that much happier and healthier for that many more years. Owlfather introduced me to TOMS shoes in 2007, when he bought me a pair as a gift. They have lasted me 3+ years, and I can’t wait add more TOMS to my wardrobe. Because design-wise, the company knows what it is doing.

Using the South American espadrille as its template, TOMS has tricked out what was once simple peasant footwear into an array of colors, patterns, and more custom features than you could ever hope for in a lowly little shoe. Taking the concept of charity way beyond the tin cup, TOMS implements a sustainable business model to the tune of another Owlmother favorite, Ethos Water.

As a social justice activist who has worked from Bolivia to Mexico City, I am a fan of  TOMS for life. As an artistic spirit who has spent many a Parisian afternoon gawking at the fashionistas of the Champs-Élysées, I am a fan of TOMS for life. And as the mother of a child whom I would never wish to go barefoot due to poverty, I am a TOMS fan for life.

Proving Owlmother’s theory that FASHION + FUNCTION + PHILANTHROPY = LOVE.

Owlmother gives TOMS Shoes 5 Hoots!

PS: Why not host a “Style your Sole” party for yourself, your kid’s birthday, or your favorite bride-to-be? 1 guest = shoes for 1 child in need. 2 guests = shoes for 2 children in need. 3 guests… well, you get the point.

Sample work from Style Your Sole parties around the world!

The Owl and the Pussycat: 5 Hoots!

I’ll admit: it’s a bit of a stretch. A children’s book is not, after all, the sort of “green” product that I normally review. However, I happened upon a used copy of Edward Lear’s The Owl and the Pussycat at Half Price Books Columbus, a wonderful company that promotes the recycling of used media – an environmentally friendly practice that we eco-conscious consumers should embrace. I was so thrilled by the funky little adaptation that I had to post about it here!

And hey. Re-read the titled of that book. The OWL and the Pussycat. Are you with me? How could OWLmother not post a review?

Keep reading to see the original poem by Edward Lear, a dead but nonetheless rockin’ lyricist hailing from 19th century Britain.

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are.”
Pussy said to the Owl “You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?”
Said the Piggy, “I will”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

(full link)

I hope that the text delights you as much as it does me; a delicious ABCBDEDEEEE rhyme scheme in the understated vein of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” (To all of my pretentious friends who hate Robert Frost, I’m sorry, but I had to.)

In his Visions in Poetry publication, illustrator Stephan Jorisch captures the playful but dynamic essence of the poem with what his publisher describes as a Felliniesque landscape flecked with bits of everyone from The Beatles to Spanish sculptor Joan Miró.

Before even delving into the text, Jorisch indulges us with 8 pages of visually flat hand rendered illustrations that provide a dynamic social backdrop for the story. A bourgeois Owl develops – for lack of a better phrase – a mad crush on the artsy Pussycat, who hails from the wrong side of the tracks (quite literally; the two characters are initially depicted as boarding different trains at their local metro station).

My own daughter loves to pore over these detailed drawings for their mere artistic intrigue. I, on the other hand, am impressed by the depth with which Jorisch establishes an against-all-odds love story between individuals of differing socioeconomic status.

Predictably enough if you are familiar with this poem, the two set sail around the world and fall in love. But lurking in the shadows of their maritime journey are the disapproving faces of a seemingly Eurotrash upper crust. (Read the book for a full effect, but suffice it to say that the cast consists of some nasty-lookin’ cats.)

Fast forward! I want to discuss the uplifting message that this cutesy little volume proffers. When our illicit lovers happen upon “the land where the Bong-tree grows,” they encounter a cast befitting of David Foster Wallace’s “Union of the Hideously and Improbably Deformed.”

 

R.I.P. David Foster Wallace

Overweight mermen,  homosexual pigs, and chimeric creatures of all affinities welcome the Owl and the Pussycat to their geographic/psychological haven of the bizarre, unwelcome, shunned, heinous, and otherwise marginalized populace.

And it is here that our literary journey ends. A nonchalant wedding is followed by an outright gluttonous feast of “mince/ and slices of quince.”

I suppose I can relate. I suppose that this is why I felt compelled to stray from my normal blog routine and write the above review. You may have gathered that I identify with both the Owl and the Pussycat; I am an oddball, bit of an outcast, and irrevocable dork.

But much like Jorisch’s absurd poetic figures, I have met my match: Owlfather.

If that sort of sappy shit is of any interest of you, please go read this book. Read it, and appreciate it for all of its socioeconomic, artistic, and emotional depth. If, like Owlmother, you seek or have found love – your one true vine, your soulmate, your be-all-and-end-all – then please read this book. Go! Run! What are you waiting for? Turn off your MacBook and get thee to a bookstore!

 

Pure bliss: the Owlcouple's wedding day!

Heck, if you just like a silly poem and good drawings — GO READ THIS BOOK!

Owlmother gives The Owl and the Pussycat 5 hoots!

 

Comfy Rumps: 4 Hoots!

My readers have inquired: “Yoo-hoot! Owlmother! Where have you gone?”

Answer: it’s been a whirlwind season for the Owl family! Owlfather just completed his Master’s degree in architecture (hooray!), and our relocation to the LA area is underway. If you’re wondering where I’ve been hiding, check under the massive mound of moving boxes in my living room.

But that doesn’t have anything to do with why I’m writing today. I want to familiarize you with a surprisingly cheap, awesomely functional product I’ve discovered: Comfy Rumps cloth diapers!

Now, it isn’t often that the Owlmother compromises. Under normal circumstances, I would not let such a product touch my Owl Baby’s butt. It is, after all, 100% synthetic. Polyester. Non-biodegradeable. But let’s examine the alternative. According to an Oregon State University study,

“Over 20 billion disposable diapers are sent to landfills each year… This is enough diapers to cover a football field 3 miles deep. Within the last 10 years the average age to potty train children has increased to 3 years old.”

Ick. Think about the intestinal bacteria that live in a dirty diaper! Now think of that same bacteria creeping across a landfill and into your groundwater. Now picture that groundwater coming out of your tap. Now picture yourself using that water to cook spaghetti for your children. See where I am going with this? Like I said. Ick.

(Moreover, it’s no secret that landfills are typically located in lower-income neighborhoods where residents don’t have the ways or means of organizing against the pollutive interest. By using disposable diapers, we literally dump our crap onto the American poor. Not fair.)

Enter cloth diapers. I won’t join the din of voices online that praise the benefits of cloth, because I don’t have anything new to contribute to the conversation. But a simple internet will probably persuade you to consider cloth. If you’d rather not do all that research, this picture serves as a compelling argument:

Okay, so hopefully you’re using cloth diapers at least part time. Your options are as follows:

1. Purchase 100% organic, unbleached, eco-friendly cotton/wool contraptions. These are cheap, easy to use, and wonderful; I highly recommend them.

2. Settle for polyester cloth diapers. Perhaps Option 1 is impossible; perhaps your daycare only allows “all-in-one” cloth diapers, or you are constantly on the go and you need something slightly more convenient than cotton/wool. Perhaps you are a single parent without a moment to spare on hand-washing wool diaper covers.

Enter Comfy Rumps. Per the company’s website,

So while the product may not be ideal (it’s cloth/reusable, but not organic/zero-impact)  it’s pretty darn close. And at USD $8.50/diaper (cheaper if you buy bulk), you can afford to try it out. As a mama who has tried both Fuzzi Bunz and BumGenius, two of the more popular cloth diaper brands in this vein, I will vouch for Comfy Rumps. They are every bit as durable, effective, and cute as their expensive counterparts. But don’t take my word for it; let your baby’s booty be the judge.

Owlmother gives Comfy Rumps 4 hoots!

SUNDÃRI Essential Oil: 5 Hoots

I’m so thrilled to have discovered the SUNDÃRI line! In addition to meeting my ethical standards (no synthetics, preservatives, animal testing, etc.), the products actually work as intended. In this blog post, I will review the Essential Oil for Vata (Dry) Skin.

SUNDÃRI Essential Oil for Dry (Vata) Skin

SUNDÃRI products are designed based on the principles of Ayurvedic medicine. As described by the National Institute of Health: “Ayurvedic treatment goals include eliminating impurities, reducing symptoms, increasing resistance to disease, and reducing worry and increasing harmony in the patient’s life.” Though largely unsubjected to Western scientific study, Ayurvedic medicine has succeeded in India for thousands of years; its roots are planted firmly in the pre-historic.

According to the Ayurvedic system, each body consists of three doshas, or life forces: Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. (More here) While only a trained practitioner should determine proper treatment, SUNDÃRI customers select many of the products, including Essential Oils, based on the their dominant dosha. I’m a Vata – or, more specifically, I need a product that will balance my Vata skin, which is dry, tight, and prone to premature aging. What’s your dosha? Take a minute to find out.

OK, let’s get down to brass tacks here. Once applied, the Essential Oil is absorbed immediately into the skin; at night, it’s the only treatment I need. During the day, I wait approximately 2 minutes before applying my sunscreen on top of the oil. Once absorbed, the oil gives my skin a nice glow without making it greasy. If I had infinite financial resources, I’d buy enough of this stuff to slather my skin head-to-toe every single day.

Why so magical? Here are the ingredients:

Sweet Almond Oil, Sesame Oil, Orange Oil, Geranium Maculatum Oil, Rose Oil, Cardamomum Oil

Wait a second! These are ingredients you could find in a gourmet kitchen! Why pay $60 for a half an ounce?! Well for starters, the roses petals used for oil are “picked by hand, 5 tons only yield 2 pounds of essential oil.” Moreover, the therapeutic grade oil requires manual processing. Finally, the product is made in the U.S.A., where worker wages are higher than say China.

And you only need a few drops of oil per day, which works out to approximately $20/month for the stuff – what you might pay for a typical organic grade moisturizer. The fact that it’s an oil, rather than a cream, means that the chemical composition of the stuff makes your skin glow; being more liquid than solid, it refracts the light that falls on your face and creates a mirage of youth.

Wow, I sound like an infomertial quack. But seriously, just try it for yourself and see. The SUNDÃRI customer service team is awesome too. Owl Mother experienced a problem with the original purchase, and they were super accommodating, apologetic, and quick to remedy the situation. SUNDÃRI has my business for life – or as long as Owl Father doesn’t notice the periodic $60 charge on our credit card bill.

5 Hoots for SUNDÃRI Essential Oil!

Argan Oil (Raw, organic): 3 Hoots and a Caveat

Dozens of online reviewers proclaim the wonders of argan oil. But when two trusted sister-in-laws recommended the product to me, I had to check it out. Argan oil (not to be confused with the chemical element argon) is an entirely natural beauty product, about the consistency of olive oil. Chockful of vitamins and minerals and all kinds of good stuff. Pressed from the kernels of its namesake fruit bearing tree, the oil is difficult to come by and thus expensive – about $10/oz. Native and exclusive to southwestern Morocco, the Argania spinosa tree is currently endangered due to human exploitation, such as over-harvesting of its wood, as well as the goats who graze on its fruit. (Goats? Goats!)

Yup, those are goats. Who knew that these baaad boys were so agile?

So. Why would Owl Mother spend big bucks on an endangered oil ? Good question. UNESCO has teamed up with a local collective of Berber women to sell the oil worldwide. By marketing its cosmetic, anti-aging properties, they have really fueled the micro-enterprise movement in a poor area that needs it badly. Coupling that with the promises of other online reviewers, I didn’t think twice about shelling out $32 for 100 ml of raw, organic argan oil from AAA Shea Butter Company on Amazon.com.

Magic Potion... or Snake Oil?

After a lot of research, I deemed this particular product to be the most worthy of the many argan oils available; it was properly contained in a brown glass bottle, high grade, and unadulterated by those pesky “additives” that usually have a water-down effect. I’m still fuzzy on some sourcing details: who purchases the product from the Berber women’s collective? Why isn’t it sold directly by the collective? Who is “AAA Shea Butter,” the company who makes this particular brand of argan oil? By what standards is the oil “organic”? (Currently, there are no such national standards for cosmetic products; only food.) Is this in fact a “fair trade” product? Why is it not certified?

Be that as it may, I decided to take the plunge. When my package arrived from Amazon.com, I tore it apart lionstyle and practically dove headfirst into the bottle. With all of the anti-aging, pro-beauty claims swirling around about argan oil, I couldn’t wait to start slathering it on my face. Which was looking a little lackluster, by the way. Off the bat, two characteristics jumped out at me:

1. Smell: as if a zoo and an olive bar had a love child.

2. Consistency: slick like a pizza puddle (you know – the layer of grease stuff that sits on top of your pizza)

Sadly, my face didn’t immediately morph into the supple, glowing orb I had imagined. Nonetheless,  I smeared the oil on my face faithfully for approximately 4 weeks. I did notice that my skin felt fairly soft. So soft, in fact, that my pores clogged up quite a bit. On the bright side, the oil absorbed pretty quickly (about 15 minutes) and the smell didn’t linger (or perhaps I grew accustomed to it). Here my skin on argan oil:

Nice zit, Clare! (see: upper right-hand corner)

So as you can see, it is indeed pretty shiny. But the unwelcome appearance of zits, which I hadn’t seen since high school, was enough to make me toss the oil when my trial period had ended. And therein lies the caveat: perhaps for someone with severely dry skin who is not at all acne-prone, argan oil would live up to its reputation as a miracle-maker. A trusted source tells me that it helped with her rosacea. Another family member says it smoothed out his wrinkles.

Good for them, but Owl Mother will take a pass. 3 Hoots!

Give humanity a chance at survival…

Take a moment to read about what YOU can do to prevent our world from turning into a toxic-clouded netherworld of dead trees and six-legged humanoid mutants.

Did somebody say Chocolate Stud? 5 Hoots!

Don’t worry; it isn’t a strip club! The Chocolate Stud is actually the most delicious brownie I have ever tasted.

While I was lazing around in bed with Owl Father and our Owl Baby on my recent birthday, my doorbell rang unexpectedly. Whoot was there? Why, it was the Postal Service! With a mysterious package addressed to one very surprised Clare Kirlin.

To my delight, the package – sent from my mom in Indianapolis – contained no fewer than fifteen of these sinful little treats. The Owl Family immediately dug in, sullying the bedsheets with crumbs as we devoured calorie after calorie of fudgey goodness.

These ever-addictive Chocolate Studs are the brainchild of Clare Welage, Indianapolis-based pastry chef and owner of The Whimsical Whisk. You’d never guess that Welage is a self-taught master of the sugary arts; as reported by Indianapolis Woman, she began experimenting in the kitchen at the age of 7.

It’s no surprise, then, that the Chocolate Stud retains something of an unaffected quality: flour, sugar, egg and butter play backup to velvety chocolate tones, spiked with vanilla and salt. The result is all kinds of adjectives. Symphonic! Indulgent! Divine! So creamy are these treats that I could almost drink them with a straw, but for the crunchy little chocolate chips that give the Stud its name. Texture-wise, then, it is an ideal blend of yin and yang.

By the way, the above 7 ingredients are the only 7 ingredients you’ll find in your Chocolate Stud. (The Whimsical Whisk is a Crisco free zone!) Welage described her butter-only philosophy in a recent email interview: “No fillers or fluff, instead- Simple and amazing.” Consider, too, that the Whimsical Whisk is a bake-to-order company: place your order, and Welage will create it. No processing, freezing, preserving, or five year shelf life. In a world of industrialized food production and agribusiness, the notion seems almost quaint.

I, for one, will take quaint over Crisco any day of the week.

5 Hoots for the Chocolate Stud!

(In the interest of length, I opted not to review the Whimsical Whisk’s cookie creations, but their website is worth a visit. Below is a sneak preview of some truly artistic Whisk designs – all edible!)