Operation Haring Daring

Well la dee dah.

Not only were we invited to a CAC gala, we got to warm up the building with more than our smokin' hot good looks.

On Saturday night, we BombShells showed off a month's worth of work by a baker's dozen of our gals. And 4400 yards of yarn later, we got to adorn Zaha Hadid's smokin' hot building during the Contemporary Arts Center's annual gala.

We hope Keith Haring would be proud of us. Cuz we were sure honored to be a part of such an esteemed art institution's party plans and silent auction. And that is no joke.

Thanks to honorary BombShell Jaime Thompson, CAC's Curator of Education and one of our BombShell idols, Director Raphaela Platow for opening the door for us. 

Now excuse us while we put away our high heels and party dresses and we get back to the thousands of yards of yarn that it's going to take for us to really knock your socks off this fall.

NOTE: All photos are courtesy of our own Orson Welles.

One Night, One Craft, Ten BombShells

What do you get when you cross One Night, One Craft and Ten BombShells?

YOU GET A NEARLY SOLD OUT MONDAY NIGHT EVENT AT THE CONTEMPORARY ARTS CENTER, THAT'S WHAT!

Cincinnati BombShells will be on site at the CAC from 6 to 8 pm at the final One Night/One Craft event showing you how to be crazy sexy and cool while making pom poms and cozies and felt doo-dads.

The BombShells may be a little worn out from their super top secret weekend operation (which by Monday night will be artfully evident to all!) but we can assure you that you will not see one platinum lock out of place nor one tired gam at rest.

No, no. We will be there to teach you our BombShell ways.

Hurry hurry and make your reservation now. $5 gets you a pom pom or two but bring a few extra bucks for a cocktail. We will not mind if you buy us one. Or two. Hint hint.

Monday, August 29th
6-8 pm
Contemporary Arts Center 6th floor, UnMuseum.
RSVP to tours@contemporaryartscenter.org

Give me a B! Give me an O! Give me an M! Give me another B!

Etc.

What's it spell?

I said WHAT DOES IT SPELL?

Yes, dolls. That spells BOMBSHELL.

And here is a sneak peak at some of the things you might see if there was such thing as a SECRET BombShell meeting to prepare for a SECRET BombShell operation in a SECRET location for a SECRET coming-soon event.

 

Can you do the conga?

Do you love art?

Can you ride a bull in stilettos and not mess up your hair?

Can you work in secret, tirelessly, avoiding sleep and social engagements because you care about fiber art and making the world cuter, one stitch at a time? Can you???

Oh, just you wait. We are coming soon to all your favorite locations.

And if you like us, be nice to us and maybe, just maybe, you can grow up to be a BombShell too.

Toot toot hey beep beep. Toot toot hey beep beep.

I'm going to say it straight up. This is all a bit of smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand while we work on some massively exciting BombShell bombs. You think we've been out just martini-ing it up this hot ol' summer? No way, doll. We've been up to no-good/for-the-greater-good projects.

Just you wait.

Until then, a little summer song for you.

Friday night and the strip is hot
sun's gone down and they're about to trot 

spirit's high and they look hot 

do you wanna get down 

now don't you ask yourself, who they are? 

like everybody else, they wanna be a star.

Toot toot hey beep beep. Toot toot hey beep beep.

Can you hear it?

So one of our BombShells goes by Toots. And while she claims to be a down-to-earth, mudcloth, hoarder-o-fiber, down and dirty sort of gal, I'm not so sure.

I took some double-top-secret snaps of her double-top-secret work for our next double-top-secret bombing and, well, check it out. It seems pretty black and white to me that Toots has a double life. She says "earth shoes" and we see stilettos. She says "hand-me-downs" and we see vintage sexy.

All I'm really sayin' is that what you think you know about us, think again. And look at the quiet woman next to you at the coffee shop. Think of your mother or your sister or your daughter. Do you know for SURE that they aren't a secret BombShell?

It's not all black and white.

Until the next BombShell delight ....

I say Wip it. Wip it good.

Oh no, darlings. We are not dormant. We are getting ready in a stealthy stitch-by-stitch manner for some wild business of the fiber persuasion.

But we don't want you to forget us so I may be profiling a few BombShells, on occasion, when not with my man on Fire Island (or the other one in Gatlinburg). It is August, after all. And no civilized BombShell actually WORKS in August. We travel. We knit. We cocktail. Hurray!

So, without further ado, meet Wip, Pinky's right hand BombShell.

As you can see, she is a trickster. Her demure manner, her sweet dresses, her bows and baubles, they are smoke and mirrors I tell you. Smoke and mirrors.

Because Wip is the one who whips up little rat babies to place around town. They are pretty cute but don't be fooled. Cuz a rat is a rat is a rat. And Wip knows RATS. As do all BombShells. In fact, that was going to be a part of the manifesto (history of hanging out with scoundrels and/or dancing on bars and/or attendance at Burning Man) but we nixed all that for our all-fiber creed.

So that's our Wip. Sweet. Like burnt sugar. Like spiked juice. Like cotton candy in the carnival house of mirrors. Especially fond of Arnold's Bar and Grill. Especially keen on their Vodka Lemonade. Beware, beware, beware. If you find yourself falling for her southern charm, if you find her hand on your knee while you are sitting at Arnold's bar, know that she is plotting her next Rat Bomb.

There. You have been warned.

So that's all for today. I got the ocean singing me a song, the sun on my back, a man with a handful of oil standing beside me, and a margarita to drink.