frou fgMy boss at the candle shop gave me a new product to try. I said I liked it. He said, "Yeah, you like all of that Frou Frou Shit."
Sir, you're darn tootin'...
Translating six month's worth of watching documentaries, making baked goods and missing my husband into a relevant and interesting blog is probably a completely impossible and incredibly annoying endeavor. I thought about writing. I thought about not writing. I thought, "who the hell do I think I am for thinking that anyone would even be remotely interested in my self-indulgently droll take on humanity?" But that's it, isn't it? That's Frou Frou.
Frou Frou's definition basically translates to heavily ornamental and overly elaborate. It's more than rumba panties, crushed velvet tube tops and gold lipstick, though.
The ornaments of everyday living are the bizarre, unsavory, sad, wonderful, whimsical, horrifying, moustacheoed, and tarnished details. They're completely overly elaborate and
that's what makes life worth living.
It's Frou Frou that keeps any even slightly intelligent person from ripping down the walls of their cubicle and blowing their head all over their Dooney and Bourke shoulder bag.
So I guess I am Frou Frou, I live Frou Frou, and I love Frou Frou. Now...I write Frou Frou.