Lady Gaga has inspired concertgoers to dig out their inner freak, so why not try a Gaga look for Halloween? (If you're a man, this costume idea would be even more fun.)
The Lady herself might wear ridiculously expensive designer outfits, but you can transform yourself into the "Bad Romance" singer on a dime. For costume pieces, think "household goods" - plastic bubble wrap, large garbage bags, etc.Cut funky shapes out of aluminum foil, glue them to your dress/bubble wrap/garbage bag-turned-dress, wear a blond wig (or spray-paint your hair yellow), and glue or stick some "bling" onto a pair of fabulous dollar-store sunglasses. Get some cheap glittery or metallic makeup from a discount store and let your imagination run wild.For shoes, check out the thrift stores and look for wedge heels or tall ankle boots. Carry a fake microphone and, just like that, you've got yourself a costume that will turn heads.
2011年10月14日星期五
2011年10月13日星期四
Just Melanie
Melanie Wilkinson, Staff Writer
As I wormed my way around the maze of racks, my senses were alive.
The smells were of leather and new vinyl.And the sights were fabulous.
Heels, wedges, flats.
Browns, grays, colors, blacks.
Yes, I had passed through the Pearly Gates into what I call Shoe Heaven.
I’ve never thought of myself as being much of a girlie girl . . . until it comes to shoes. I don’t know why, but I just love them.
To me, there’s no point in buying clothes or putting on clothes if the shoes aren’t already in play. They are the base on which everything else is built.
I found a pair of black slip-ons that would work with dress pants — just enough heel to keep my hems from dragging but just enough boring that they weren’t too over-powering.
They were shoes for blending in, business camouflage if you will. Those were the Occupational Shoes.
Around the corner I encountered a pair of black boots with heels. They were perfect. Just enough heel to stretch out my gnome-like frame, yet just enough width that I could run in them without injury.
They were high enough on the calf to wear with skirts, skinny enough to wear under jeans. And just naughty enough to make me feel younger. Those were the Hoochie Mama Boots.
As I ran my hand over the many different choices, I thought about what I already own. My mind wandered to the shoe pile at home (because I’m too lazy to actually put them on the rack in my closet as it was designed).
There are the Husker Boots — flat, brown numbers with red zippers in the back. I call them the Husker Boots because of the unexpected red zipper and their wearability at Memorial Stadium because they’re comfortable, warm and slightly fun.
Moving on, there’s the Everyday Sandals — a pair of well-worn, pretty well shot, wedge sandals that don’t expose too much of my hideous toes yet open enough to give my questionable feet enough air to breathe.
There’s the Zumba Shoes totally dedicated to working out (although there’s no longer any arch support of any kind); the New Year’s Eve Shoes I wore in 1990 (it was a significant year); and the Hippy Flats that are really only a piece of hard cardboard attached to the feet with some weird beading (I must have been in a questionable mood the day I bought those).
During my tour of Shoe Heaven, I had a premonition that I would find something so spectacular it would warrant a shoe name never before used in my podiatric vocabulary. I already had a variety of styles, colors, functions. What on earth would I find that hadn’t been thought of before?
As I gazed across the room, I saw a gathering of women in a particular aisle. I had to head over, knowing there was some sort of attraction there. When I saw the “Clearance” sign I understood the magnetic pull, but also dreaded seeing the poor, sad little leftovers that no one wanted.
This picked-over collection would hold sizes that no normal woman can wear, broken straps, shoes with no mates. Yes, while cheaper, this aisle likely only held the rejected and tainted.
It was still worth a look, I reasoned, as I browsed among the leathered degenerates. Just as I imagined, there was a reason why the prices had been slashed.
Yet, with a hint of optimism, I waged forward, determined there had to be something special. That’s when I thought I saw a rainbow, a burst of light and singing angels at the end of the row. Something leopard-like caught the corner of my eye and I was on a mission to further investigate.
As I neared the red box that proclaimed Candies (which was my favorite brand of affordable shoes in high school), I spied something so spectacular I couldn’t believe it was real. And I was equally stunned that Candies still made shoes — I thought they went out of business the same year I registered to vote. But there they were. What I always fantasized about.
A pair of cheaply made, cheesy, leopard print, peek-a-boo sandals mounted on a high wedge of happiness! “So much to love,” I said aloud as I caressed the smooth fabric cover that blended the piece into one chunky monstrosity of delight.
The box was worn, indicating it had been moved around a lot as other women laughed them off as a prank. Its placement at the end of the last aisle indicated it was next in line to put be put down, if not claimed before the final hour.
But would they fit? How much did they cost? Could I save them from their demise?
The angels started another chorus as I joyfully saw they were my size — not a half too big or a half too small — and the price was just what I fancied as it came in at a mere eight bucks.
I snatched them up and slammed the lid, to keep the high frequency beacon of joy from calling too much attention to the prize at hand.
At the cash register, my eyes sparkled as I told my husband I’d made a discovery of a lifetime.
“These,” I said gleefully, as I removed their cover, “are my Good Day Shoes.”
Knowing my strange need to name my shoes, he inquired as to what made them Good Day Shoes.
“I just know that every time I put them on, I’m going to have a good day,” I said with all certainty.
That was three years ago now. As the leaves fall and we start to transition from summer to winter wear, I remember fondly the day my Good Day Shoes and I were first united. And they have proven to be exactly what I called them.
Each and every time I don the Good Day Shoes, other people ask me where I got those “interesting shoes.” They don’t say they are “wedges of happiness,” but it still makes my day to hear that they are at least “something to see.”
A former male co-worker jokingly told me that if he was a woman, he’d “put those shoes on and never take them off” — I never told his wife.
Sure, the Good Day Shoes have suffered along the way. There was an extremely hot day two summers ago when the cheap soles actually melted as I walked on a hot highway as we covered an event. It wasn’t until I stood still for a few minutes that I realized my feet had actually stuck to the pavement as the soles melted onto the asphalt.
I promptly scraped them off and the two of us continued on. Sure, I can now feel gravel poking into my feet seeing how I left three-quarters of the soles on the corner of Highway 34 and the bypass — but I don’t care. The cheesy leopard print is still a vibrant, wild situation that makes me smile every time I look down.
And yes, for some reason, every time I wear them, I can thankfully say I’ve never had a bad day. Now some people actually know to call them by name — and I have at least one co-worker who has a pair of Good Day Shoes herself.
In a world where really good days are hard to come by, I think we owe it to ourselves to find something to prompt one — even if it’s as silly as clunky animal print coverings for our feet.
As I wormed my way around the maze of racks, my senses were alive.
The smells were of leather and new vinyl.And the sights were fabulous.
Heels, wedges, flats.
Browns, grays, colors, blacks.
Yes, I had passed through the Pearly Gates into what I call Shoe Heaven.
I’ve never thought of myself as being much of a girlie girl . . . until it comes to shoes. I don’t know why, but I just love them.
To me, there’s no point in buying clothes or putting on clothes if the shoes aren’t already in play. They are the base on which everything else is built.
I found a pair of black slip-ons that would work with dress pants — just enough heel to keep my hems from dragging but just enough boring that they weren’t too over-powering.
They were shoes for blending in, business camouflage if you will. Those were the Occupational Shoes.
Around the corner I encountered a pair of black boots with heels. They were perfect. Just enough heel to stretch out my gnome-like frame, yet just enough width that I could run in them without injury.
They were high enough on the calf to wear with skirts, skinny enough to wear under jeans. And just naughty enough to make me feel younger. Those were the Hoochie Mama Boots.
As I ran my hand over the many different choices, I thought about what I already own. My mind wandered to the shoe pile at home (because I’m too lazy to actually put them on the rack in my closet as it was designed).
There are the Husker Boots — flat, brown numbers with red zippers in the back. I call them the Husker Boots because of the unexpected red zipper and their wearability at Memorial Stadium because they’re comfortable, warm and slightly fun.
Moving on, there’s the Everyday Sandals — a pair of well-worn, pretty well shot, wedge sandals that don’t expose too much of my hideous toes yet open enough to give my questionable feet enough air to breathe.
There’s the Zumba Shoes totally dedicated to working out (although there’s no longer any arch support of any kind); the New Year’s Eve Shoes I wore in 1990 (it was a significant year); and the Hippy Flats that are really only a piece of hard cardboard attached to the feet with some weird beading (I must have been in a questionable mood the day I bought those).
During my tour of Shoe Heaven, I had a premonition that I would find something so spectacular it would warrant a shoe name never before used in my podiatric vocabulary. I already had a variety of styles, colors, functions. What on earth would I find that hadn’t been thought of before?
As I gazed across the room, I saw a gathering of women in a particular aisle. I had to head over, knowing there was some sort of attraction there. When I saw the “Clearance” sign I understood the magnetic pull, but also dreaded seeing the poor, sad little leftovers that no one wanted.
This picked-over collection would hold sizes that no normal woman can wear, broken straps, shoes with no mates. Yes, while cheaper, this aisle likely only held the rejected and tainted.
It was still worth a look, I reasoned, as I browsed among the leathered degenerates. Just as I imagined, there was a reason why the prices had been slashed.
Yet, with a hint of optimism, I waged forward, determined there had to be something special. That’s when I thought I saw a rainbow, a burst of light and singing angels at the end of the row. Something leopard-like caught the corner of my eye and I was on a mission to further investigate.
As I neared the red box that proclaimed Candies (which was my favorite brand of affordable shoes in high school), I spied something so spectacular I couldn’t believe it was real. And I was equally stunned that Candies still made shoes — I thought they went out of business the same year I registered to vote. But there they were. What I always fantasized about.
A pair of cheaply made, cheesy, leopard print, peek-a-boo sandals mounted on a high wedge of happiness! “So much to love,” I said aloud as I caressed the smooth fabric cover that blended the piece into one chunky monstrosity of delight.
The box was worn, indicating it had been moved around a lot as other women laughed them off as a prank. Its placement at the end of the last aisle indicated it was next in line to put be put down, if not claimed before the final hour.
But would they fit? How much did they cost? Could I save them from their demise?
The angels started another chorus as I joyfully saw they were my size — not a half too big or a half too small — and the price was just what I fancied as it came in at a mere eight bucks.
I snatched them up and slammed the lid, to keep the high frequency beacon of joy from calling too much attention to the prize at hand.
At the cash register, my eyes sparkled as I told my husband I’d made a discovery of a lifetime.
“These,” I said gleefully, as I removed their cover, “are my Good Day Shoes.”
Knowing my strange need to name my shoes, he inquired as to what made them Good Day Shoes.
“I just know that every time I put them on, I’m going to have a good day,” I said with all certainty.
That was three years ago now. As the leaves fall and we start to transition from summer to winter wear, I remember fondly the day my Good Day Shoes and I were first united. And they have proven to be exactly what I called them.
Each and every time I don the Good Day Shoes, other people ask me where I got those “interesting shoes.” They don’t say they are “wedges of happiness,” but it still makes my day to hear that they are at least “something to see.”
A former male co-worker jokingly told me that if he was a woman, he’d “put those shoes on and never take them off” — I never told his wife.
Sure, the Good Day Shoes have suffered along the way. There was an extremely hot day two summers ago when the cheap soles actually melted as I walked on a hot highway as we covered an event. It wasn’t until I stood still for a few minutes that I realized my feet had actually stuck to the pavement as the soles melted onto the asphalt.
I promptly scraped them off and the two of us continued on. Sure, I can now feel gravel poking into my feet seeing how I left three-quarters of the soles on the corner of Highway 34 and the bypass — but I don’t care. The cheesy leopard print is still a vibrant, wild situation that makes me smile every time I look down.
And yes, for some reason, every time I wear them, I can thankfully say I’ve never had a bad day. Now some people actually know to call them by name — and I have at least one co-worker who has a pair of Good Day Shoes herself.
In a world where really good days are hard to come by, I think we owe it to ourselves to find something to prompt one — even if it’s as silly as clunky animal print coverings for our feet.
2011年10月12日星期三
Fall's must-have accessories
Accessories can provide a woman's outfit with that perfect finishing touch — whether it is a scarf, gloves, shoes or jewelry, there is a certain way to make heads turn. For this upcoming season, feel confident while you strut your stuff with these must-haves:
. THE BOOTIE: For a petite frame, this shoe style is perfect; try a peep toe and pair with tights for a sexy, chic look.
. WEDGE HEEL BOOT: These shoes are new to the season, and provide you with more support, while keeping you on-trend.
. MENSWEAR INSPIRED: A heeled loafer or oxford in chocolate brown, black or camel are inspired by menswear but made for women; you should pair these trends with a feminine outfit to balance out the look.
. GLOVES: A key accessory that will finish any outfit, giving it a more polished look and keep you warm. The big trend this year is to wear gloves in bold shades like lipstick red and sapphire blue.
. SCARVES: Wear with a jacket or sweater to instantly add style to any outfit and draw attention to your face. Go for a pop of color or a bold print to dress up fall's classic colors.
. FAUX FUR: A great substitute for the real thing. Because it's less expensive and machine washable, women veer . more toward faux fur and many people can't tell the difference.
With this list of accessories, it is impossible not to dress fabulous for fall — be a trendsetter and try something new this season. Remember the right accessories can make your outfit.
. THE BOOTIE: For a petite frame, this shoe style is perfect; try a peep toe and pair with tights for a sexy, chic look.
. WEDGE HEEL BOOT: These shoes are new to the season, and provide you with more support, while keeping you on-trend.
. MENSWEAR INSPIRED: A heeled loafer or oxford in chocolate brown, black or camel are inspired by menswear but made for women; you should pair these trends with a feminine outfit to balance out the look.
. GLOVES: A key accessory that will finish any outfit, giving it a more polished look and keep you warm. The big trend this year is to wear gloves in bold shades like lipstick red and sapphire blue.
. SCARVES: Wear with a jacket or sweater to instantly add style to any outfit and draw attention to your face. Go for a pop of color or a bold print to dress up fall's classic colors.
. FAUX FUR: A great substitute for the real thing. Because it's less expensive and machine washable, women veer . more toward faux fur and many people can't tell the difference.
With this list of accessories, it is impossible not to dress fabulous for fall — be a trendsetter and try something new this season. Remember the right accessories can make your outfit.
2011年10月11日星期二
Government drives a wedge into RTC union
The state government has finally succeeded in breaking the strike of RTC staff by holding talks with the leaders of National Mazdoor Union (NMU), the recognised RTC union.
After the talks held in the presence of transport minister Botcha Satyanarayana on Monday, the NMU leaders agreed to call off their 21-day long strike.
Later, the RTC officials and NMU leaders signed a memorandum of understanding in this regard.
After reaching an agreement with the government, NMU state leader Mahamood announced that the strike was called off keeping in view the problems faced by passengers.
Answering to a question, Mahamood said there was no Telangana Forum in their union and the government held talks with the state unit of NMU.
The transport minister said the Centre and state government had recognised the importance of Telangana issue. The Central government would take a decision soon on the T issue. The minister along with the NMU leaders hurriedly left the place after making the announcement.
While briefing newsmen on the agreement, APSRTC managing director B Prasada Rao said the government had agreed to consider the strike period as a special leave and also pay salaries to all the striking staff.
The government had also agreed to pay Rs15,000 to regular employees and Rs10,000 to contract employees as advance apart from festival advance of Rs 3,000 to all the staff.
Rao also said the NMU leaders urged the government to waive the Motor Vehicle Tax of Rs 375 crore on RTC buses as the organisation is in the red.
The NMU leaders also appealed to the government to withdraw cases registered against the RTC employees during the strike.
The government responded positively to the demand and promised to look into it. It also promised to consider regularisation of contract employees which came for discussion during the meeting. The RTC managing director warned that disciplinary action would be initiated against the employees who violate the norms of the agreement.
All the RTC regional managers were asked to seek police protection to run buses. He hoped that the situation would come to normal in a couple of days.
Though the RTC management and NMU leaders announced that the strike was called off, RTC employees of Telangana Forum opposed the agreement.
Telangana Forum convener E Aswathama Reddy told Express that some leaders in NMU had yielded to the money and other incentives offered by the RTC management. He made it clear that the strike would continue till the separate Telangana state was formed.
According to sources, there was a split in the recognised NMU. One group is in favour of calling off the strike, while the other is against the agreement reached by the NMU with the government.
2011年10月10日星期一
Jared Valentine enjoying success at Open Face
When you've built a business from the ground up, in an industry known for its exceedingly high failure rate, it can be hard to let go and enjoy the ride — even when you've appeared to beat the odds.
It may have taken five years, but Jared Valentine, co-owner of the Open Face eatery in the South Wedge, ultimately began finding a way to distance himself a little from the place he helped design and open seven years ago.
"It's still really difficult, but I've gotten better about not thinking about work when I'm not there," he said . "I slowly started making some changes because I needed to have a little more control over my life. I had to look at my free time as part of my job, and schedule it."
Valentine realized something needed to change when he started missing family events, including some weddings and funerals. He wasn't going to the gym or spending time with his dog, and simple jobs around the house that he used to enjoy felt more like chores. He lost touch with friends.
"Everyone understood what I was doing, but it was hard," he recalled of his former schedule, which had him at the restaurant between 12 and 14 hours a day, six days a week, with additional hours spent on paperwork at home.
Now, in addition to the programmed breaks, Valentine has learned to trust that his employees will do things the way he would want them done in his absence. "I don't think I've properly put it to bed so that I can be a free spirit, but there's an awareness now that I have to make time for myself," he said. "And I make sure it's quality time — without thinking about work in the back of my mind."
It may have taken five years, but Jared Valentine, co-owner of the Open Face eatery in the South Wedge, ultimately began finding a way to distance himself a little from the place he helped design and open seven years ago.
"It's still really difficult, but I've gotten better about not thinking about work when I'm not there," he said . "I slowly started making some changes because I needed to have a little more control over my life. I had to look at my free time as part of my job, and schedule it."
Valentine realized something needed to change when he started missing family events, including some weddings and funerals. He wasn't going to the gym or spending time with his dog, and simple jobs around the house that he used to enjoy felt more like chores. He lost touch with friends.
"Everyone understood what I was doing, but it was hard," he recalled of his former schedule, which had him at the restaurant between 12 and 14 hours a day, six days a week, with additional hours spent on paperwork at home.
Now, in addition to the programmed breaks, Valentine has learned to trust that his employees will do things the way he would want them done in his absence. "I don't think I've properly put it to bed so that I can be a free spirit, but there's an awareness now that I have to make time for myself," he said. "And I make sure it's quality time — without thinking about work in the back of my mind."
2011年10月9日星期日
The Super Chic UGG Collection That's in Stores Now (Really!)
Launched for Fall 2011, UGG Collection is the wildly popular Australian brand's first foray into the high-end accessories market. Rather than focusing on the classic oversized shearling boot (which seems to have become a daily staple for every midwestern female ages 3 and up), the line includes leather footwear and bags that are handmade in Italy and features everything from hand-wrung leathers to Spanish merino sheepskin.
The price points reflect the quality of the materials and craftsmanship (the boots start at $495 and the handbags are priced from $650), so it's not cheap. But the best part is that each pair of boots still includes UGG Australia's signature rubber soles and shearling lining, so you might actually feel comfortable taking a spin in these shoes.
2011年10月8日星期六
Woodburn: A letter to Piper Bloom Kastor
We have not yet met, though I am looking forward to doing so over the holidays when you and your parents — Andrew and Deena Kastor — are in town. You are only 7 months old as I write this, but already your mommy tells me you are reading "Goodnight Moon" by yourself and she is probably barely exaggerating.
A feat only slightly less impossible would be for a woman to run a marathon in 2 hours, 19 minutes, 36 seconds — which your mom did in winning the 2006 London Marathon to set an American record that still stands five years later.
Well, it did until a few weeks ago when Joan Benoit Samuelson replaced your mom in the record book which is amazing because Joan is 54 years old. More remarkable, she erased your mom's marathon mark with a time of 2:24:52 in the 1984 Olympics.
By the time you are in first grade, Piper, you will have enough grasp of math to understand the "new" U.S. record is 5 minutes, 16 seconds slower than your mom's best time. Unfortunately, the International Association of Athletics Federation (IAAF) that serves as track and field's world governing body lacks common math skills — and common sense.
Here is how wrongheaded the IAAF is: In addition to striking your mom's previously sanctioned American record, it has ruled Paula Radcliffe's historic clocking of 2:15:25 in the 2003 London Marathon is no longer the world record. Instead, the new recognized record is the 2:17:42 that Radcliffe ran in 2005 on the same course with a head start over the men entrants.
As you will too soon learn, Piper, adults don't always make much sense. The IAAF has now decided that having a male runner at a woman's side is a performance-enhancing substance. And, yet, it is still fine and fair — and common — for men marathoners to have male pacesetters.
To change the rules retroactively for women is insanely unjust. After all, your mom, Radcliffe, and others could have chosen different races to make their record attempts if the No Men Allowed rule had been in place.
Your mom — "The Pride of Agoura High" — didn't even request any male escorts, telling me: "When I had two men leading me to my American record, they were assigned to the lead women (whoever that would be) by the race organizers and neither of them were wearing watches. One dropped out of the race and the other was puking so badly with 5K to go, I gave him my water bottle."
If their help was debatable, there is no question this retroactive ruling is hurtful. It would be like taking away Jack Nicklaus' record sixth Masters title because the grooves on his sand wedge wouldn't be legal today, or erasing one of Pete Sampras' Wimbledon titles because of the gut strings in his rackets.
As always, Piper, your mom has responded with nothing but class. It reminds me of when she suffered a broken bone in her right foot three miles into the 2008 Olympic marathon — entering with high hopes after epically earning the bronze medal in the 2004 Olympics — and had to drop out. Despite her great disappointment she exhibited uncommon grace and character. She didn't stand on the podium, but nonetheless she stood tall as a champion.
While she is just "Mom" to you, Piper, to the rest of the sports world she is a rare superstar who also is a worthy role model. Just one small example of your mom's kindness is how, when competing internationally, she gives running shoes and clothes to hotel staff to take home to their families.
"I feel passionate about this new rule and hope the negative attention it is receiving will have our governing body rethink this decision," your mom told me, Piper. But here is something more important she shared: "Piper gives us so much joy that little else can compare or deflate the opportunity we have been given of raising a child."
In other words, Piper Bloom Kastor, your mom knows her most important "marathon" has just begun — as the pacesetter by your side.
A feat only slightly less impossible would be for a woman to run a marathon in 2 hours, 19 minutes, 36 seconds — which your mom did in winning the 2006 London Marathon to set an American record that still stands five years later.
Well, it did until a few weeks ago when Joan Benoit Samuelson replaced your mom in the record book which is amazing because Joan is 54 years old. More remarkable, she erased your mom's marathon mark with a time of 2:24:52 in the 1984 Olympics.
By the time you are in first grade, Piper, you will have enough grasp of math to understand the "new" U.S. record is 5 minutes, 16 seconds slower than your mom's best time. Unfortunately, the International Association of Athletics Federation (IAAF) that serves as track and field's world governing body lacks common math skills — and common sense.
Here is how wrongheaded the IAAF is: In addition to striking your mom's previously sanctioned American record, it has ruled Paula Radcliffe's historic clocking of 2:15:25 in the 2003 London Marathon is no longer the world record. Instead, the new recognized record is the 2:17:42 that Radcliffe ran in 2005 on the same course with a head start over the men entrants.
As you will too soon learn, Piper, adults don't always make much sense. The IAAF has now decided that having a male runner at a woman's side is a performance-enhancing substance. And, yet, it is still fine and fair — and common — for men marathoners to have male pacesetters.
To change the rules retroactively for women is insanely unjust. After all, your mom, Radcliffe, and others could have chosen different races to make their record attempts if the No Men Allowed rule had been in place.
Your mom — "The Pride of Agoura High" — didn't even request any male escorts, telling me: "When I had two men leading me to my American record, they were assigned to the lead women (whoever that would be) by the race organizers and neither of them were wearing watches. One dropped out of the race and the other was puking so badly with 5K to go, I gave him my water bottle."
If their help was debatable, there is no question this retroactive ruling is hurtful. It would be like taking away Jack Nicklaus' record sixth Masters title because the grooves on his sand wedge wouldn't be legal today, or erasing one of Pete Sampras' Wimbledon titles because of the gut strings in his rackets.
As always, Piper, your mom has responded with nothing but class. It reminds me of when she suffered a broken bone in her right foot three miles into the 2008 Olympic marathon — entering with high hopes after epically earning the bronze medal in the 2004 Olympics — and had to drop out. Despite her great disappointment she exhibited uncommon grace and character. She didn't stand on the podium, but nonetheless she stood tall as a champion.
While she is just "Mom" to you, Piper, to the rest of the sports world she is a rare superstar who also is a worthy role model. Just one small example of your mom's kindness is how, when competing internationally, she gives running shoes and clothes to hotel staff to take home to their families.
"I feel passionate about this new rule and hope the negative attention it is receiving will have our governing body rethink this decision," your mom told me, Piper. But here is something more important she shared: "Piper gives us so much joy that little else can compare or deflate the opportunity we have been given of raising a child."
In other words, Piper Bloom Kastor, your mom knows her most important "marathon" has just begun — as the pacesetter by your side.
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