The alpaca approach

While the rest of the universe watched the Oscars, we watched Oscar the Alpaca.

Instead of a red carpet, we pranced on a dusty arena at the Boulder County Fairgrounds in Longmont. Instead of designer gowns, we flipped through racks of sweaters, hats and spools of yarn made out of the coats of local alpacas.

It was glamorous.

Granted, I needed to shower when I got home. But glamorous.

Before you punch me in the neck, consider this: The average alpaca's eyelashes are six times fuller than the longest eyelash extensions on a Hollywood star. Alpaca fiber is hypoallergenic and silky, so it won't leave you itchy and bumpy like wool. (More than one-third of Americans surveyed by the International Wool Secretariat said they were allergic to wool.) A fancy male alpaca can sell for upwards of half a million dollars. And alpacas look like huge awesome poodles, according to my daughter while barking at the Alpaca Extravaganza, organized by the Alpaca Breeders Alliance of Northern Colorado.

Although I made up the eyelash statistic purely to start rumors by cut-and-paste-type readers who are too lazy to read a full article, the other junk is true. And although I'm not the type of gal to fester in fairgrounds dirt, I am a fabric whore and an alpaca aficionado.

Hence: Oscar.

When I was a young whippersnapper and I had a bad day, I used to drive 30 minutes to the Stargazer Alpaca Farm in Loveland and park near the barn. Like a total creeper, I sat in my car and just listened to the way-too-human humming sounds that these Muppet-lookalike creatures made. Without fail, their singing, paired with their appearance, make me laugh until tears were racing down my cheeks. Even today, a Youtube video called "Alpaca Approach" is saved as my home page. If you can watch this without chuckling, your soul is a rotten banana and you are the devil himself.

Alpacas are the most unintentionally hilarious creatures on Earth, and they're soft and warm and nice and they look like big awesome poodles. No many how many awards, "Black Swan" simply cannot compete.

Here's my favorite way to cover your life in alpaca.

The Alpaca Connection on Pearl Street in Boulder, for high-quality alpaca sweaters, coats and accessories. According to the store, alpaca hair is two and a half times warmer than sheep wool, is water repellent and less likely than cashmere to pill or wrinkle.

My pick: A mid-shin-length white pea coat, the Carmen, originally $900, marked down to $600.

Tip: Ask about ordering a custom-tailored coat.

More info: thealpacaconnection.com.

Photo by Flickr user Shelby PDX.

Groupie distress

Photo by Flickr user tncountryfan.

Two weeks before the concert, we began wondering what to wear.

It's not that my sister Devon and I thought Kid Rock would care -- although having backstage passes did make it a possibility.

Possible was enough.

I've had a long-standing, (completely) one-sided love torrent with the so-trashy-he's-hot-singer.
And the fact that he sings country, hip-hop and rock -- three distinctly different fashion genres -- was further complicated by the location of the concert: the Greeley Independence Stampede.

Greeley plus the Fourth of July weekend equals a cruel combo. The "no gang clothing" signs plastering the fairgrounds took red and blue out of the equation. There should have also been "no white clothing" signs, what with the dusty arena and Colorado's new schizophrenic rain disorder. Patriotism would not be my fashion fall-back.

A week went by. I considered wearing a veil and wedding gown, but I decided it was too subtle. Plus, the dust.

Devon suggested wearing silver star pasties and a long trench coat. But once again: too subtle.

It was now crunch time, the night before the show. As I walked into the Flatiron Crossing Mall in Broomfield, a jinx-text popped up from Devon, announcing she was walking into the Loveland mall to hunt down her concert duds. Just inches inside Macy's, I spotted a sage-colored, above-the-knee, strapless tube dress with mini pleats -- and pockets. How could I resist a dress with pockets?

That's when a text popped in from Devon: "I just bought a pearl necklace longer than most dresses. It won't work for the concert, but I had to get it."

As always, I ended up in Guess, where I spotted a cream and white button-down tube dress with a ribbon belt. It was almost as ill suited as the polka-dot pumps Devon announced she had just purchased. But not quite as ridiculous as the floral ruffle dress she said she got to match. We agreed that small-floral print is one of our favorite summer 2009 trends, but that Kid Rock wouldn't be impressed.

Jealous-slash-inspired by Devon's finds, I found myself in Denver in the Forever 21 check-out line carrying a satin and chiffon ruffle dress in dark blue; a multi-strand braided bead necklace; and a black headband covered in feathers and fake flower petals.

What?

I stopped. I had lost my focus. I'd bee-lined to the back right corner of the store, where I always find the laces and sparkles. My style staples. My rut.

While shaking my head, I texted my realization: "Devon. We are incapable of dressing casually."

And suddenly, I realized how uncomfortable it can be to push your fashion boundaries. For most Boulder women, it's just the other way around: They get stuck in the Bermuda Triangle of T-shirts and jeans. I was being smothered by satin and bows.

I looked around the store with a fresh perspective and realized the first 300 items of clothing I'd
charged past were plaid, checkered, jean or otherwise cowgirl-inspired. And cute. I grabbed an armload. I could do this.

I ended up wearing a short leopard-print dress.

Devon wore zebra-print. With a red flower brooch. And the 4-foot strand of pearls.

Kid Rock didn't care.

And it turned out leopard-print camouflaged the stinky rodeo mud surprisingly well.

Read more at www.dailycamera.com.