skeleton key

So long, farewell.

2011-05-25T08:05:00.000-07:00

The Sound of Music is one of my favorite movies, even though I do think that they could have just ended it at the wedding instead of doing the whole "let's hide from the Nazis and the oddly attractive Aryan mailman!"

With that being said, I think it's time to close up shop around here on Skeleton Key. As much as I love waxing philosophic about two-finger peacock rings and the search for the perfect pair of jorts, I feel like life has taken me in some interesting directions in the past few months. While none of those lead away from caring deeply about washing mustiness out of thrifted clothes, I find myself having less and less to write about here.

Because I fervently believe in over-sharing, I've started a new blog over here: http://exlibrisetcetera.tumblr.com/. It's basically about being a library science student and enjoying glasses. Super deep. Luckily, I'm crazy interested in the idea of being some sort of costume/fashion librarian (those exist! I swear), so my heart will never be far from fashion in one form or another.

Thanks to any and all of you that stopped by or left a comment, and thanks to all of the bloggers on my sidebar for continuing to provide me with lovely, fascinating content to devour. I certainly won't be taking a break from visiting those blogs anytime soon.

Stayin' safe and unsexy

2011-05-03T21:24:00.000-07:00

Soapbox warning: Um, I'm getting on one.

I have a whole host of fashion bloggers that I admire and love reading on a daily basis. Recently, one of them posted about a supercute helmet that made even them, someone who hates helmets and doesn't wear one, want to own it.

Now, I'm especially sensitive about helmets these days. I recently had a lil' spill on my trusty bike, and because I was wearing my huge, nerdy teal helmet, I was only hurt a bit rather than QUITE a bit. It made me think: do we always need to be looking stylish and sleek? I've gotten a new helmet since this tumble, and it screams "HEY! ALL I DO IS KEEP YOUR BRAINS FROM SPILLING OUT" even more than my teal number. But do I care? Nope. My hair is always flat after taking my helmet off, and any cute twists or braids I've attempted are decidedly un-cute. And a beehive? Not unless I'm walkin'. It's decent at keeping my head warm in the winter, but since I'm a normal person and sweat, I absolutely despise wearing my helmet in the spring and summer.

However, despite all of its sartorial shortcomings, it does one thing that my on-trend maxi skirts and platform sandals can never do: keep me safe and riding for many years to come.

Girls just wanna wear jorts

2011-05-03T18:29:00.001-07:00

As much as I hate combining words, I'm coming around to "jorts", the bastardization of "jean shorts." It's just so ANNOYING to have to ask the Goodwill lady where they keep their jean shorts stock. I'd rather just say "hey girlfriend, where those jorts at?" Me and the Goodwill lady are on excellent terms, by the way.

Why the sudden obsession with jorts? Because Portland is proving itself to be a damn fine place in the springtime every 14 days or so. And once every two weeks, I want to be ready with my summer finery! Also, I can't wait until my summer finery consists of fancier things than frayed denim shorts. My previous pair, which I will call Hotpants McPaintStains, really needs to be retired. They are glorified jean underpanties. So, the search for a suitable replacement begins. And I won't rest until they're acquired for under $10!

So what DO I wear everyday?

2011-04-13T09:34:00.001-07:00

Yup. Also, please appreciate the effort it took to take a photo without my face in it. The face takes much-deserved attention away from the shirt.

Falsehoods

2011-04-11T08:13:00.001-07:00

I, in fact, do not live in Brooklyn, but I think this poster is pretty darn cute. Buy it here, if you're so inclined.

The trials of online browsing, part 45

2011-04-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

Not kidding when I say that I am THRILLED that these babies are sold out in my size. I do not need to spend $55 on pretty shoes that will see the light of day approximately 3 times.

Skirt-us maximus

2011-04-02T19:26:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I'm writing this post because if I see Jean Seberg's adorable face staring back at me for one more day, I will chop all of my hair off. AND THAT CANNOT HAPPEN. Guys, I have a passion for long hair the way that some people have a passion for world peace. I wish I were kidding, but I look at my hair far more than I look for headlines about what's happening in Libya.

Vain declarations aside, I do have something worth chatting about. MAXI SKIRTS. As I explained in my "Jean Seberg is super hot" post, I have a thing for wanting the exact opposite of what I have. Such is the human condition. Therefore, since I live in Portland (rain, rain, GET OUT OF HERE) and bike/walk to most of my destinations, my wardrobe doesn't really have a place for floor-length skirts and dresses. The miniskirts that I loved wearing in frigid Chicago temperatures are actually perfect for biking (while wearing leggings, obvi). Which is why I can't stand them, and only want long skirts. But they are just so romantic and whimsical and wonderful! I feel like I'm always sweeping into places when I wear longer lengths, and there really is nothing better than a grand entrance.

My solution? Buy 'em up cheap at thrift stores and fasten 'em up with a rubberband when I'm biking. It may not be the most attractive solution, but neither is shortenin' my words, and that certainly hasn't stopped me in the past.

Patience

2011-03-30T08:52:00.000-07:00

You know what's terrible about growing your hair out? Wanting to cut your hair everyday. Having grand delusions that if you just cut your hair, you would look EXACTLY like Jean Seberg in Breathless (pictured above from aestheticalterations.blogspot.com) and feel like a million bucks all the time.

Now, I'm aware that I will not look like Jean Seberg if I cut my hair. Even though I have a striped shirt, and am awfully good and holding a rolled-up piece of paper. But there's just something about having short hair that I always want. I've had a pixie haircut at least three times in my life (that I can recall), yet within a few months--or a few weeks in some cases--I'm dutifully growing it out because I want to look like Rapunzel.

Methinks there's some kind of lesson here in being happy with what you have when you have it. However, I'm too busy imagining myself as that doll whose hair you can instantly lengthen and shorten with just one tug to really flesh it out.

C'MON, SPRING

2011-03-28T08:36:00.001-07:00

Hurry up, weather. I'm tired of boots. Yes, these are Born sandals, otherwise known as the shoe brand that I make fun of my mom for wearing. But they're cushy! And spring/summery! GIVE ME NOW.

Vacation (all I ever wanted)

2011-03-20T07:54:00.000-07:00

This pic came from a site called hollywoodteenmovies.com. Yup, must remember to visit that more often.

My boyfriend and I are headed to the Oregon coast for a few days, so while it won't look anything like Beach Blanket Bingo, it will be a great excuse to relax and scream "spring break!" every 10 minutes. My beachwear includes a cardigan, leggings, and rain boots. Oregon, I love you! Hopefully I'll have all sorts of stories upon my return. It's more likely that I'll just have lots of taffy, but we'll see.

Business pajamas

2011-03-17T07:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when you're an intern, you feel like you can break the office dress code a little more often than the people that actually get paid when they're sick and can't work. Enter: business pajamas.

Part 1: Take a cotton pajama slip (ugh, I hate the word "chemise" so much, even though I think that's what it's called in real life).

Part 2: Put a shirt and a cardigan over it.

Part 3: Go to work and snicker about how much you're breakin' the dress code law.

Too bad I work in Portland in a fairly casual office, which means that people wear blankets when they're cold and sometimes don't have shoes on. At least the internet can appreciate my rebellion.

Also, a very happy anniversary to my lovely parents!

She bangs!

2011-03-13T14:55:00.001-07:00

Bangs = excuse for a webcam picture a week after the cut. Done by me, and evened out by my boyfriend. In addition to singing the overlooked Ricky Martin song all the time now, I oscillate between feeling like this classy lady and this other one.

Keepin' it special!

2011-03-13T08:45:00.000-07:00

See, when I don't blog for weeks, it's not because I'm uninspired or forgetful--I'm just keeping the blog special! If I did it with any regularity, it would just be a letdown, right? I vote yes.

In the past few weeks, it was confirmed that A) Natalie Portman DID wear a (terribly boring) purple Rodarte dress to the Oscars, B) I don't do well when my computer gets a virus and it takes longer than 24 hours to prepare, C) I am able to get a second job (in a library, too! Yippee skippee!), and D) Portland's gre(a)y weather is getting to me.

When I lived in IL, I loved a good rainy day. It was a nice excuse to not do anything and eat warm food while huddled under a blanket. Unfortunately, when you have 280-odd days of rain/gre(a)y weather a year, not doing anything and eating warm food while huddled under a blanket all the time is called a deep depression. Rats. To cure this, I'm trying to jump on the bandwagon of seasonal brights. Who doesn't love a good Honeysuckle, Pantone's 2011 color of the year! Sidenote: How I would LOVE to sit in on these meetings, debating the merits of kumquat over turquat, or whatever they choose to name their official colors.

So far, transitioning my wardrobe of largely black, grey, taupe, and sometimes red (pow! a pop of color!) is proving to be a little difficult, but I have hope that I'll soon be looking like Carmen Miranda. I just need an extra banana.

WHERE IS NATALIE PORTMAN?

2011-02-27T16:03:00.001-08:00

I yell at the Oscars' red carpet coverage like some people yell at their TV during football games. The best part is that I don't even have a TV, so I'm screaming at my computer (yay Oscar.com for streaming the red carpet!) like a crazy old biddie with stock in whether or not Natalie Portman will actually wear purple Rodarte.

Note: Just clicked back to the coverage, and was greeted by Sharon Stone's HUGE feathery floral shoulder corsage piece and massive beehive. Lady, you never fail to deliver.

Soapboxin'

2011-02-23T16:21:00.000-08:00

WARNING: In case you can't tell, this is going to be a post about the recent House of Representatives vote to defund Planned Parenthood. I'm no expert on the issue, but I have opinions and a blog, so here you go. Posts about shoes, food, and jewels will resume shortly.

My first thought when I heard the result of the vote was "HOLY FUCK." My second thought was, "No really, HOLY FUCK." For every person that's saying "calm down, it's not like they're making birth control illegal!", I get it. But they're making it expensive. And for people who don't have insurance, that's shitty. Pardon my lack of eloquence on the topic. I'm currently lucky enough to be under my parents' health insurance, but if I weren't, I would be spending a good deal of money to maintain my sexual health. Which really, is what every girls dreams of having to do with her money. My part-time job doesn't offer me benefits, and it's pretty difficult to find a full- or part-time job around here that I'm qualified for that does. Trust me, I've tried.

It's difficult to pinpoint what exactly about this cut makes me most angry. Could it be the fact that this is basically damning low-income and/or uninsured women to start praying that they don't get pregnant? Well, I guess that's a big deal. For now though, I'd like to focus on the reactions that people have had to this. It has been reassuring to hear and read all of the outrage that women (and men) are having over this defunding possibility. However, one comment that I wish would stop is "Planned Parenthood isn't just an abortion provider! They provide low-cost birth control so that abortions don't even have to be an option." Now, this is true. Some PP facilities don't even provide abortions, and they are incredible at providing affordable birth control. But what I don't think people understand is that by saying abortion doesn't need to be an option as long as birth control is available, they're halfheartedly agreeing with those that proposed the budget cuts to PP so that they wouldn't be funding abortions. Let's review the facts: no birth control, besides refraining from vaginal intercourse, is 100% effective.

I work with a pregnancy/abortion/adoption/all-around options hotline, and have talked to plenty of women who got pregnant while on the pill and using condoms, and one special woman who got pregnant even after taking the morning after pill. They did not want to have kids, so they took precautions. Which didn't work. So let's not fool ourselves into thinking that providing access to birth control eliminates the need for abortions. No matter which way you look at it, an abortion is a necessary, safe (when done by a licensed provider), and often simple procedure. It can be incredibly emotionally draining and life-changing for some, produce no emotional change whatsoever in a person, turn a woman into a pro-life activist, turn a woman into a pro-choice activist, keep a woman off of welfare, have no impact on her station in life whatsoever, and about a million other things. Abortions are not universally awful, horrifying, or transformative. Sometimes, they're just a five- to fifteen-minute procedure that causes some physical pain.

Am I trying to be cavalier about abortions? Certainly not. I'm simply pointing out that no matter how uncomfortable abortions make us, we owe it to women and ourselves to have honest discussions about birth control in all forms--abortions, condoms, the pill, emergency contraception, and the like. If we keep saying things like "well, I think low-cost birth control (i.e. the pill, condoms) is great, because then we don't need abortions", we're only leaving ourselves vulnerable for people to come in and say, "we're so glad you agree! Make sure you take your pill on time, wrap up your partner, and we should all be good! When you're not, have fun trying to take care of a baby."

Here's hoping that the Senate shuts this ridiculous shit down. I love my Planned Parenthood, and would hate for them to lose a substantial funding source.

Style ruts

2011-02-21T19:00:00.000-08:00

In thinking about this post, I referred to my state of being as a style runt rather than a rut. So, candy photos are in order. Sidenote: How great is it that this picture comes from a place called CandyBlog? I like to think that if people aren't reading my blog, they're busy reading about lollipops.

Wearing the same 30 items for 30 days is boring. It's not like I don't have outfits to wear, either. Since I'm quite the Type A-er, I love nothing more than planning out outfits, so I have plenty at my disposal. It's just that I never thought I would lust after a certain t-shirt or a pair of jeans. I do enjoy that my wardrobe is going to seem SO HUGE after this month is up, though. If anything, this challenge has made me think about the other ruts that I'm in. I realized that other day that I haven't listened to a new band in, oh, 6 months? All I listen to is Girl Talk and Diana Ross. I used to be so hip! I think those days are long gone.

However, one thing that I haven't gotten in a rut with is food. Having a part-time job and part-time school really allows for one to cook up a storm. On the docket today was ketchup-fried rice (quiet now, it's wayyy less trashy than it sounds), egg-less cookie dough, and homemade ice cream to mix it in! No, I didn't churn anything or purchase a five-pound bag of rock salt. My friend Corinne posted a link to this blog, and I knew that I had to make ice cream right away. Or seven hours later when I bought a can of sweetened condensed milk and a pint of heavy cream. It's still in the freezing stage, but you best believe that I'll be posting about whether or not I succeeded with it.

The perfect boots

2011-02-16T16:10:00.001-08:00

IT IS THEM. You know they're a big deal when 1) I actually take a picture and manage to make it appear on my blog, 2) I pose them in my closet/hallway hybrid. Normally, I don't freak out about shoes. Some part of me thinks that I'd be just as happy with fancy bags on my tootsies as long as it meant I could use that money to buy a knuckleduster of a ring or that really fancy cheese they sell at the organic grocery store.

But these are shoes I can get behind. They make me feel like an extra in There Will Be Blood (or True Grit, or whatever Western you've enjoyed in the past 50 years), the grey coloration means that they can get scuffed up and no one will notice, and they zip up the sides so that I don't have to remember how to tie my shoelaces. Perfect boots for the win!

Heartz!

2011-02-14T18:27:00.001-08:00

This picture is from an adorable accessory website called ban.do, and while I love me a good red heart sparkle pin, the model is looking utterly confused. Like, "how did I end up with a messy topknot? And where did this perfect shade of lipstick come from?" Though I would be lying if I said that I wasn't growing my hair out to achieve that exact level of topknottery. And confusion.

I hope that everyone is having a GLORIOUS Valentine's Day and lovin' on yourselves and others the way the saints would have wanted us to. My manfriend (just trying out some new labels) and I celebrated over the weekend since he's spoken for today. Law school is his wife, I'm just the awesome mistress. Anywho, my plans for this evening include eating taco soup, making cornbread muffins, and watching Dear John while crying over Channing Tatum (the aforementioned "John") not being in Step Up 2 the Streets or Step Up 3D.

Fierce beauty

2011-02-02T19:29:00.000-08:00

Hi all! This isn't what I wore for my second day of the 30 for 30 challenge. Though be proud--I haven't reverted to emergency pants yet! I'll wait until day 4 for that. No, I felt it was important to reblog this photo of Rosie the Riveter from my friend's blog.

I've never been much for the propaganda posters of Rosie the Riveter, but something about seeing a picture of the real-life inspiration (Geraldine Doyle, who just passed away) for the WWII icon was, well...inspiring. She looks so impossibly beautiful, and since I've been in a slump these past few days, I'll take all the gorgeous bits I can get.

Behind the times

2011-01-30T14:57:00.001-08:00

Honestly, you'd think with all the lack of blogging going on around here that I had a full-time life or something. But no, I've simply been spending most of my free time cooking, reading other blogs that are updated way more frequently than mine, and toddling around town.

To get myself in the swing of things, I've decided to do the 30 for 30 challenge that Kendi Everyday is hosting. Hosting? Yeah, we'll go with that. The deal is this: you don't shop for a month, and you can only pick 30 items of clothing to wear over a 30-day time period. For real bloggers, they also have to photograph their outfits everyday, but since we all know I'm not real, there probably won't be any photographs 'round here.

Unless you guys want creepy webcam shots, which I am MORE than willing to supply. I've got my "gazing coyly at the lens while touching my collarbone" pose mastered. Also, my lack of photographs may make me a renegade participant. I was born to rebel.

Now, things like underpants, coats, and accessories don't count toward the 30 items, which is why I feel confident about this challenge. I should definitely be able to cobble together a pair of desperation pants from two scarves and some undies if necessary. So, check back in every so often to read about how I fare/see what desperation pants really look like!

Cycle style

2011-01-15T09:58:00.000-08:00

God, it's taking every ounce of restraint to not edit this post title and call it "Cycle Chic!" Instead, I'll get down to brass tacks and talking about two loves of my Portland life: staying clothed, and riding a bicycle.

Now, I'll totally admit to being a pansy anytime I have to ride my bike in A) rain or B) temperatures under 35 degrees. I whine, stomp, talk about how much I love cars, and finally throw myself on a bicycle and into the streets, pouting for the first 3 minutes of riding. Then I start smiling, because if there's anything I love more than cars, it's feeling like I'm a badass for riding a bike in anything less than sunny, warm weather. However, these less-than-ideal rides are made all the better by the proper cycling attire.

1) Long underwear: Oh man. My parents got me two sets of long underwear for Christmas, and they make my bod feel like a microwave. OK, maybe not that warm, but long underwear leggings are FAR superior to regular leggings. More importantly, both of those are better than jeans. Seriously, you may think that pants are a better cold-weather alternative than thick tights and a dress, but you're wrong. Unless you are wearing the world's skinniest jeans (if so, well done), air will sneak up into your pant legs and chill you to the bone. So throw on quality tights, leggings, or long underwears. And thank me all the time.

2) Hooded scarf/neckerchief: I'm a traditional scarf gal and love a good pashmina or crocheted tunnel scarf. In rainy weather though, the last thing that you want is a ton of wet fabric (or worse, wet yarn) hanging around your neck. Enter smaller, more awesome versions of neckwarmers. My friend Amanda - who conveniently just opened an Etsy shop: check it out! -made me a lovely blue fleece hooded scarf to wear under my helmet, and I've been toasty ever since. The neckerchiefs are INCREDIBLE because your face gets really chapped during winter riding, and it's great to have something warm and cute to pull over your mouth and nose. Bonus points if you rob a bank afterwards.

3) Water/windproof gloves: Yeah, I still haven't bought a pair. But let me tell you, as the girl who has had one too many pairs of gloves to dry out, waterproof gloves that keep your mitts warm are essential.

If you don't ride a bike, you can still wear all of this stuff and look cute and prepared should something steal your car and leave you with a bicycle!

Peacocks, ahoy!

2011-01-10T17:36:00.001-08:00

Too much? IMPOSSIBLE.

Note: This link has died. Proof that this peacock bib necklace was, in fact, too much. Kisses!

Warning: Sexy bracelets ahead

2011-01-08T10:58:00.001-08:00

Is it weird that I keep wanting to buy the "Fantasy shapes" edition of Silly Bandz due to my slim hope that the shapes will be sex toys and Kama Sutra positions?

Probably.

Phase 1

2011-01-04T17:11:00.001-08:00

This is not my boyfriend, but rather, a picture of an attractive man from TheSartorialist.blogspot.com.

If I were a more critical and self-aware person, I would say that I'm taking the military talk a bit too far with Operation Clothe My Boyfriend. However, I'm not, so let's get into formation and talk about the plan of attack. If that is, in fact, what the military does.

So, I had New Year's Eve off of work. My boyfriend is on vacation as well, and as we were eating our regular breakfast of heart-shaped pancakes with chocolate chip smiley faces, he asked if we could go shopping today. Alright, in all honesty, it didn't happen like that. I mean, that's what we eat for breakfast every day, but he asked me to go shopping after I showed him the "lookbook" I compiled for him. To which he kept compulsively referring to because he secretly wishes he was a stylist. Unfortunately, the lookbook wasn't as look-y or book-y as I'd like. It was a two-page Word doc consisting of links to American Apparel, Urban Outfitters, The Yellow Bird Project, and Threadless.

In other words, it was REVOLUTIONARY. Inspired by my ability to copy and paste links, we rushed off to the nearest Urban Outfitters and tore the place apart. Which means that he bought a charming cardigan and great shirts that aren't falling apart. Note to boyfriend, who I know is reading this: Yes, your shirts are falling apart. Stop thinking they aren't. I've got to consider myself lucky--it's not difficult to get this kid to shop. Spending money isn't his favorite thing to do, but as long as I keep saying "you look adorable! We should go make out behind that ironic display of Hello Kitty pillows and thermal t-shirts!", he's willing to do it.

Phase 2: Um, get him to buy more clothes. This isn't consumption for consumption's sake, though I love that. I've been given a budget, and Lord knows I'm sticking to it. But he needs more than 4 shirts and a cardigan. Maybe a man satchel? Calling it a "satchel" probably negates any masculinity that putting "man" before it connotes, but still. I'll look into it.

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T08:43:00.000-08:00

I wanted to pop in here and wish you all a very happy start to 2011. Thanks to all of you who have read my blog, commented, or thought about the words "skeleton" or "key" at any point at all during your day. Check back soon for updates on Operation Make My Boyfriend Buy New Clothes and more musings on clothes and shoes that I can't quite bring myself to buy.

Smooches!

A photo note: I searched "glitter confetti" to try and find a festive image, and found this gem. Festive enough for me!

Sales: Quit playin' games with my heart

2010-12-30T17:22:00.000-08:00

So, you all know my penchant for fantasy shopping during my lunch break, yeah? Well, things got a little too real today. Since it's the week after Christmas, most stores are having ridiculous sales. Since most of the stores I frequent for fun (I really do try not to buy from them) are fancified sweatshops, they're basically giving clothes away. I saw socks for 50 cents at Forever 21. 50 cents! Thank God I got socks for Christmas, otherwise those babies would have been in my bag. One thing I did notice--along with the rest of the observing world, I'm sure--is how crazy my fashion sense gets during said sales. I took some notes about my current wardrobe and styles that I tend toward one day when I was bored, and I noticed that while I've got a dash of sequins here and a print there, I love me some monochromatic colors. In light of this information, I beg you: what would a person like me need with a pair of safari-print (the best way to define something that blends zebras, tigers, and leopards together) harem pants? Answer: I WOULD NEVER NEED THEM IN THE HISTORY OF EVER. I like my crotch to stay where it is (both visually and in real life), and I like my animal prints one at a time. However, they're only $10. My choice is A) See a movie, or B) Buy crazy harem pants. I guess my other choice could be C) Save your pennies, sweet child, you're below the poverty level. While I may always pick C), it's still interesting to me (in a very in-depth, psychological way) to see how much I'm willing to stretch the limits of my style when the price is right.

Let's be honest, I'd even wear Bob Barker if he was only $10.

Don't worry. I didn't buy the harem pants, and won't. Just like I didn't buy a cape. Technically though, since my fantasy wardrobe tends toward huge amounts of fabric, I could probably just buy a parachute for $5 and be happy forever.

What better way to start the day?

2010-12-27T16:34:00.000-08:00

When I got dressed this morning, I thought to myself, "Alyssa, is your dress/tunic thing too short for work?" I rationalized that it wasn't be A) it passed the fingertip test, B) it had a high neckline, and C) I was wearing two pairs of opaque leggings and flat boots, so even if it was a tad short, I was going all-out conservative with the rest of my outfit.

Apparently, Portland didn't think so! Correction: One man I passed in the street didn't think so. I was crossing an intersection, and I made eye contact with a man who was walking the opposite way. ROOKIE WALKING MISTAKE. Never make eye contact with strangers. I have this terrible lack of self-awareness where even though I can see a person perfectly, I'm convinced they can't see me. I hear him mumble (while looking at me) "going to work?", and then scream "WHOREHOUSE!!"

I'm not kidding. Some random man screamed "whorehouse" at me two blocks away from my actual place of work. Which is, for the record, not a brothel. Even though I was mildly offended (and more just taken aback, as I always am when people YELL AT ME), I couldn't help but think that my professional life might be a little more interesting if I was a lady of the night. Le sigh.

Desire lines

2010-12-27T08:31:00.000-08:00

Since I'm still in a bit of a holiday haze, the idea of getting back to a daily grind does not entice me in the least. So, I've decided to take on the best project in the world: getting my boyfriend to buy new clothes.

Technically, it's not the best project in the world. That would be reserved for getting myself to buy tons of new clothes. But I love dressing other people as well, so I'm getting way too excited for this. Here's the deal: I like the way my boyfriend dresses. He's what I would call a "kasual kid" (I watched about 12 episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians last week. Don't judge), and will literally never be found without a zip-up hooded sweatshirt. None of this is bad. What is bad is that he has enough clothes to last him for a week. And a lot of them are falling apart.

Therefore, Project Make Boyfriend Buy New Clothes (more creative title to come) is set to start today. I'm definitely making an inspiration board for this, which will probably look something like "classic hipster kid meets Paul Newman in his younger days meets Flashdance divided by a J. Crew advertisement." Curious to see how that will translate on a skinny, tall, 20-something guy? Me too! Stay tuned to find out.

Shoe fantasies. Sho-antasies?

2010-12-20T11:46:00.000-08:00

I work in downtown Portland, and have a required 1-hour lunch break. My life is so terrible, right? Anyway, since it takes me approximately 10 minutes to eat my brown bag lunch, I often have time to wander around the city and pop into stores to pet pretty things.

One of my consistent haunts is the Nordstrom Rack shoe section. I'm not sure why I do this to myself, because 3 out of 5 times, I'll leave the store practically sobbing because I've found the PERFECT shoe at the PERFECT price, but don't have the kind of life that necessitates that shoe. Allow me to explain. As those of you that have read this blog for awhile can attest to, I have a rather tacky aesthetic. More often than not, I like jewels that are about 15 rhinestones too big, heels that are 2 inches too high, and dresses that are a size too tight. However, my life as a 20-something gal who works part-time doing data entry and goes to school does not require 5-inch sparkly heels. OK, maybe they're more like 4.5 inches. STILL. To mitigate the inevitable sadness that accompanies these lunchtime jaunts, I've decided to look at shoes in a new way.

And before you say it, no, I've never thought of simply not going to look at shoes during my lunch break.

Now when I ascend that magical escalator into shoe heaven, I'm armed with a set of delusions to apply to each and every pair of shoes! No, those 4-inch black patent platforms aren't the best for biking around Portland, but when I eventually drop out of school and quit my day job, they will be perfect for my new position as an apprentice to a dominatrix. Those gold Nike Dunks? The ideal shoe for side hustling as a DJ/breakdancer. And lacy white pumps? Looks like I just found my Vegas wedding shoes.

If all fashion is grounded in fantasy, why not invent your own ridiculous narratives to add to the fun?

Hasta la vista, merlot!

2010-12-19T11:34:00.001-08:00

Yup, another template change. You probably don't need me to tell you that, right? Anyway, I think this one might stick. And even if it doesn't, just consider my constant template alterations to be my way of posting daily outfit pictures. I tip my hat to any blogger that takes and posts those on the near-daily, but I just don't think I'll ever rise to those ranks.

So, until then, book-heavy backgrounds! Fits with the library scientist grad program I'm in.

Red Hots: The worst candy/best nickname for Rihanna

2010-12-17T16:42:00.001-08:00

I love Rihanna. Seriously, "Breakin' Dishes" (which doesn't seem to have gotten as much credit as it should have) is one of the greatest break-up songs that I've ever listened to. Now, Lil' Miss Ri has gone through a lot in the past couple of years, and she's certainly come out on the other side more adventurous, sassy, and technicolored. Honestly, girlfriend cannot stop dying her hair and looking like she just left a Jamaican dancehall. More power to her, but D-AMN. This candid was taken from the set of the video for her song "What's my Name" with that Drake character.

SIDENOTE: Sorry, but I hate that song. I really, really want to like it, but Drake sounds way more robotic than I remember, and the song just BLOWS. Yeah, I was born to write in-depth pop music reviews for Spin.

Anyway, I can deal with the weird, control-top-pantyhose-colored biking shorts, and the Cosby-sweater-print shorts. And the Beetlejuice blazer. But what I can't get over? How she managed to dye her hair to match the exact color of her fascinator. Or maybe she found the perfect fascinator to go with her already-colored mane? Looks like we've got ourselves an fashion twist on the ever-popular "what came first--the chicken or the egg?" scenario.

How to get 14 items of clothes for $7

2010-12-15T17:21:00.001-08:00

Swap! I'd heard about how awesome swaps are from various sources, and REALLY REALLY wanted to go to one. I signed up for a PDX Swap mailing list, and sure enough, there have been two swaps in the past two months! THAT I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO GO TO. One time, I had class all day. The next time, I had a volunteer training all day.

Too sad.

Fast forward to yesterday, when the lovely library coordinator for Bitch Magazine e-mails me to see if she should close the library so that instead of volunteering there, I could go to a swap they were co-hosting with Planned Parenthood. UM, YES PLZ. So, I scampered home--as I'm known to do when greeted with details of an unknown swap--and gathered some old (to me) clothes in a bag. I hopped on my bike, and off I was to a life-changing event.

OK, maybe it wasn't life-changing, but for $7 (and a bag of old clothes), I got cupcakes and other treats, champagne (if I had only remembered my ID!), and a chance to grab tons of stuff. What was nice was that everyone was fairly civil, even nice. I went in expecting the worst--people throwing elbows, spitting on something to claim it, tripping me--and I got the best! A girl even told me "um, you have to take that shirt. Because it'll look cute on you, and if you put it down, I will totally take it." Honesty at its finest!

All in all, I can't wait to go to another swap. Yes, I understand that they're temperamental, but I got quite lucky this time around, and it turns out that I do an OK job of figuring out if something will fit me just by looking at it. That's a skill that's almost as valuable as being able to properly manage your finances, or crack a code to find out where some national treasure is being hidden.

Mother superior

2010-12-12T09:03:00.000-08:00

Even though I'm not going home for as long as I'd like, I can quite put into words how excited I am to descend on the suburbs of Chicago (all of them?) for the Christmas holiday. OK, well, I technically did just put it into words, but still. Don't sass me.

I was talking with my mom the other day, and I realized that I'm slowly turning into her. Exhibit A: my undying love for the Lands End Canvas line. A little while ago, I imagine Lands End had a meeting that went something like this: "COME ON, GUYS. Bloggers are wearing modest floral dresses, chunky cardigans, and striped boatneck shirts! THESE OUR ARE JAMS. We're missing out because our clothes aren't always tight-fitting and the denim inseams come up to the naval! Let's fix it."

Thus, the Lands End Canvas line was born. Look! Over here! And here! It's all solid. And it's really hard to keep myself from buying it, because it's extremely well-made (and therefore not what I'm used to.) My mom says that she still has Lands End clothes that my dad bought her 20 YEARS AGO.

On a similar note, I'm thrilled if I'm able to wear a Forever 21 dress I bought 20 days ago. Boo-urns!

I shouldn't be allowed to have money.

2010-12-08T21:31:00.000-08:00

I almost bought a $16 cape today. Not for part of a costume, but because I get cold often and love swishing about dramatically while walking.

I've seen people pull off capes, in both the online realm and the real-life one. But what stops me from taking the plunge into Cape Town (the cotton/fake cashmere kind, not the South African city) is this cold, hard fact: you're basically wearing a blanket in public.

Yet this is the exact reason I want a cape. Because day by day, I'm inching myself closer and closer to just wearing sheets in public (what with my embrace of flowy, unstructured dresses), and a fancy blanket would really be the finishing touch.

MUST RESIST THE LURE OF DAYTIME JAMMIES.

The power of a good pin

2010-12-05T18:50:00.001-08:00

With my first term of grad school successfully under my belt (YES), I've got the month of December off from school to focus on reading, crocheting, my part-time job, cooking/baking, and watching lots of Netflix/Hulu. Between stuffing my face with white fudge Oreos--because one should always snack when waiting for a baked good to hurry up and get out of the oven--watching endless amounts of Parks & Recreation, and crocheting, I almost forgot about my first focus: reading!

I finally got my literate paws on a book that I've been wanting for what seems like forever: Read My Pins: Stories from a Diplomat's Jewel Box by Madeleine Albright. I love nothing more than awesome political ladies that aren't afraid to wear jewels, so I was in heaven flipping through page after page of Ms. Albright's unparalleled pin collection. The book is a result of a fantastic exhibit that the Museum of Arts & Design in New York hosted, and while I would have died to see them in person, the photographs do the pins enough justice. One of the best aspects of her collection is how unpretentious it is. Of course, there are stunning pieces from Cartier and Tiffany's, but alongside them are vintage dime-store pins that are worn with just as much pride.

The pictures are lovely, but the prose that accompanies them is tops. I consider Madeleine Albright to be one of the smartest political minds still living, and to read that she believes fashion is a weapon, a tool of democracy, and a way to try and communicate a mood warmed my heart. I understand that celebrating fashion's frivolity can often be a saving grace for those who only want to get out of bed so they can wear a new skirt (guilty as charged), but at the same time, I always hope that people can recognize the power that fashion has to move individuals, communities, and the world at large.

Does Albright ever state that a single pin helped to move toward peace in the Middle East? No, but when meeting with Kim Jong-il in North Korea in 2000, she certainly displayed her feelings about patriotism by wearing an American flag pin that looks to be nearly 5in x 5in. It's stories like these that thrill me, make me want to bump up my pin collection, and never stop dressing exactly how I want to, in order to convey whatever I want.

Lists, lists, lists

2010-11-28T15:33:00.001-08:00

WAY better than bills, bills, bills, am I right? My boyfriend and I were reminiscing about the good ol' days of Destiny's Child yesterday, and it made me want to sing "Survivor" all day. Which may or may not have happened.

Anyway, I hope everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving! Things I'm thankful for: my family (OBVI), my boyfriend, Etsy, my hand mixer, new friends, old friends, trips home, and days spent watching Parks & Recreation in bed. Oh, and gin. Delicious, delicious gin.

Now that we've got that out of the way, it's time to talk about Christmas! So many bloggers put together ah-mazing gift guides, so I'm not going to throw my "buy 'em some books and maybe a scented candle!" guide into the mix. However, I will put this out there: if you can hand-make stuff/have the time to do so, do it! I can't think of anything nicer than presenting someone with baked goods/crafted items, because it says "hey, pal! I thought about you far enough in advance that I didn't have to run to the grocery store at 2 p.m. two days before Christmas to buy you that six-pack of athletic socks you've always wanted." My goal is to hand-make a lot of gifts, and given that my semester is over on Tuesday (HELLS YES), I think it'll be possible to fulfill that goal like the little elf I am.

Then again, my own Christmas wish list goes something like "a book, socks, a chestnut-brown pony", so who am I to say that store-bought gifts aren't awesome?

Now blogging from inside a glass of merlot

2010-11-13T14:45:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so the creamsicle layout got to me. I decided that this layout fit my blog's content much better. Like my illustrative prose, this template is rich and full-bodied, with hints of cherry and oak.

BAHAHAHAHA. I just like the color burgundy.

A neck library! What I've never wanted.

2010-11-11T18:30:00.000-08:00

Wowzers. This is...quite the piece. I'm not sure why I would expect anything less from the "For the Collectors" section on the Anthropologie website. Also, know that I say that with a snooty British accent. Since I'm in grad school for library science, it makes complete sense for me to own this. However, since it's $498 and I'm in grad school, it makes absolute no sense for me to even think about owning it. So, instead, I put it on the ol' blog. Enjoy!

Collage Power Hour

2010-11-09T23:05:00.001-08:00

Between seeing Amy Sedaris' new book Simple Times: Crafts for Poor People (sidenote: I love her harlequin-patterned dress!) and finding a used book store about 10 blocks from my work that sells stacks of old fashion magazines, I'm hoping that I'm on the verge of becoming one of those people that makes mood boards.

"What's a mood board, Alyssa? Is it like a mood ring, only in board form?" Nay, good reader. Though it would be awesome if I could carry around a colored board that could convey my mood at all times. Back on track: a mood board is what awesome, fashion-y and creative people do when they need to design a clothing line, or figure out what to wear for a certain occasion or season. While I don't have an excess of board-shaped things, I do love any excuse to cut up old magazines and have fashion fantasies that read like:

"Faye Dunaway circa Bonnie and Clyde meets Sally Field in Sybil crossed with Paul Newman in The Sting and a dash of Rodarte Spring '09." BAM. My summer wardrobe.

Hmmm, that actually sounds like a ridiculous fashion fantasy that I must attempt to fulfill. To the used bookstore!

An Ode to Target, or how I learned to stop having morals and love the big box store.

2010-11-04T17:00:00.000-07:00

I love Portland, I do. But there are just some things that the Midwest does...well, better. First of all, seeing old pals is way easier in the Midwest, and shopping at chain stores with them is considered a solid way to spend a Friday night. At least in my book.

I know I've derided Target before on this blog. In particular, their "designer collaborations." And, given how much their corporate powers-that-be hate gay people, it's not like I feel 100% awesome about loving this store so much. But ever since moving to Portland and being an hour(?!?!?) away from one, I've never lusted after anything as much as I lust after that physical space where I can buy toothpaste, a 5-pack of Fruit of the Loom undies, a lace skirt, and a plunger. When I lived in Wheaton, I could get to that delightful place in less than 15 minutes.

Now, there's nothing better than Portland's boutique/thrift scene. However, thrifting takes effort (can I really find three different ways to wear this musty-smelling sequin blazer? No? BACK ON THE RACK.) and boutique-ing takes loads of dollas. So, when I'm finding myself sapped of fashion energy/aforementioned dollas, I want someone to put me on their back and walk/run me to the Target at 98th and Washington so that I can buy cheap clothes without having to think about it.

And finally, it doesn't help that all the cool fashion bloggers are wearing lace skirts from Target that they got for $4. A FOUR DOLLAR SKIRT! THAT I CANNOT PROCURE IN MERE MINUTES. I feel like an addict with broken legs and no bus passes who just got word that the best drugs are on the other side of town. Boo to the hoo!

Currently wanting: EVERYTHING

2010-10-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

I've often remarked about what a good little consumer I am. However, when it comes down to it, I don't really buy all that many clothes. I know my mom is reading this and probably cracking up, but Mumsies, it's true! More often than not, I'm too fraught with guilt to buy anything that costs more than $3 unless it's something for the homestead. That being said, ALL I WANT TO BUY IS EVERYTHING I SEE, CLOTHES-WISE. Seriously. I have no idea what's wrong with me, besides the fact that I have "no-money-but-think-I'm-rich-itis," and therefore have elaborate wish lists.

All that being said, I really want this leopard blanket/scarf thing from Urban Outfitters. Someone is trying to tell me not to even talk about it though, because I can't get a good picture of it AND I'm having trouble linking to it. First-world problems! Even if I was rich, I'd think that dropping $38 on a scarf was utter madness, but it doesn't stop the snuggie-wearer in me from wanting to traipse around Portland in a chic blanket.

Phew! Really feels better to get that off my chest.

As promised...muffins.

2010-10-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

So, since fall finally graced Portland with it's presence around the start of the month, I've decided that baking is going to be my new "thing." Deciding it and making it a reality are two very different things, but muffins have helped take me from "ah! The oven is on fire! No wait, it's just pre-heating" to "what's that delightful smell wafting from my kitchen? Oh yeah. MUFFINS."

I made an unremarkable pumpkin muffin a few weeks ago--note to everyone: unless you've just had three heart attacks, DO NOT substitute applesauce for butter. It makes for terrible texture and taste. And for the record, my mom's told me this approximately 50 times--and I got into the swing of things with a delightful batch of banana chocolate chip muffins and pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. I think the key here is adding chocolate chips to whatever I'm baking. Also, don't you love how ridiculously ghetto that muffin site looks? Whatever, it's how I roll. I meant to try whoopie pies last weekend, but I decided that sleeping, cleaning, and homework had to take priority. This will be remedied soon.

And now for the fashion tie-in--there's nothing that makes a slouchy cardigan and a pair of leggings look better than a plate of muffins.

Lastly, let's not get too attached to this new blog template I've got here. It makes me feel like I'm writing in a creamsicle. Tweaks to come!

Because weeks should always be themed.

2010-10-18T18:40:00.000-07:00

I promise, musings on muffins and librarians are coming shortly. Wow, that sentence makes me sound quite boring. But I swear, my writing prowess will keep you on the edge of your seat about these topics.

However, I'd like to kick off this week by letting you in on a little fashion project I've conducted the past two weeks at work: THEMES. It's like on Arrested Development when Lindsay tries to convince Michael and Gob that "BEADS!" are the best idea she's had yet for a career. Anywho, I'm always very nervous when I first start a job, even though I've had jobs that didn't always require me to be on my A-game. Like, no one was going to totally flip out if I messed up their sundae at Oberweis or if I failed to properly check out their library book....at the library. As I grow older though (being the sage 23-year-old I am), I just keep piling the non-necessary pressure on myself.

So, how to deal? Theme fashion weeks! Because I had a little bit of a crazy first half of the month, I decided to ease into things last week with a "black-and-white" theme. Truman Capote would have been proud, I just know it. And this week? "Color Me Wild!" I'm wearing lots of colors, and could have just said "Crayola week" or something like that, but I have a not-so-secret desire to get into the make-up-naming business, and like to hone my skills whenever I can. Since I've exhausted the basic themes, the next 48ish weeks will be a little more of a challenge (my job is a year-long contract gig. Ooo! I said gig! I'm a grown-up.), but I think I'm up for it.

Socks: Life doesn't get more interesting than this.

2010-09-30T09:50:00.000-07:00

Yeah...that's the stuff... (photo from We Love Colors)

When one starts blogging about socks, should they just hang up their hat and admit that they have nothing left to talk about? Maybe that would have been the case three years ago, but socks have EXPLODED. Who knew that foot bags have become the latest fashion statement? A bunch of designers have started putting their models in socks/heels, and frankly, I think it looks pretty cool. It's definitely one of those trends that has the potential to make someone look really awkward, but there are some fool-proof ways to work it out.

1) For Pete's sake (he loves when you do this!)--wear thin socks. This is NOT the time for those nubby knit socks that you wear in front of the fireplace during a photoshoot for Lands' End. We Love Colors carries colorful (who would have guessed that?) nylon socks that are fairly affordable.

2) If you're going to wear socks with your shoes, make the shoes substantial. No flats, strappy sandals, or kitten heels. I mean, I've seen it done with kitten heels, but it just looks weird. Yes, you're wearing thin socks (hopefully), but you're still wearing socks! You're not trying to look like Audrey Hepburn, so don't wear her shoes. For the record, I even think the heels in the above picture are a little too delicate for the trend.

So there you have it! A post on socks. Now it's time for me to think about what I can sacrifice in order to purchase socks in colors and styles other than "white athletic."

Re-up!

2010-09-28T14:11:00.000-07:00

That title couldn't have less to do with this post if it tried. I've recently made my boyfriend start watching The Wire (so that I could have an excuse to watch the whole thing again), so I tend to use a lot of drug terms that I don't understand throughout the day. But I do know what a re-up is! It's a refill on drugs. So, consider this your refill on my fashion musings.

I've been gone for awhile, it's true. School has gotten a little busy, I'm starting a new part-time job, volunteering, and hanging out with fun people while doing even fun-er things. I tend to live life on the cynical edge, but all in all, I'm sort of in love with life right now. However, this leaves me with little time to talk to the internet about clothes, and that's awful. I love this little blog, and I love clothes even more, so in the spirit of Kevin Michael Christy (who's blogging again, CHECK HIM ON THE SIDEBAR), I'm renewing my commitment to this here blog. Until I take another leave of absence.

So, what's the specific occasion that's brought me back? THIS BRACELET ARRIVED IN THE MAIL. That's right, bitches. My birthday present from my lovely sister came to Portland this morning, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I'm going to rock it to sleep every night before putting it in the velvet pouch and brightly colored box it came in.

Stay tuned for thoughts on librarian fashion, muffins, and autumn. It'll be grand!

Presh.

2010-09-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

the most delectable earrings ever, via fredflare.com

How adorable are these earrings? Seriously, tell me. Try and quantify the preciousness. Because I did, and I came up with "cuter than a combination of a tabby kitten, Joseph Gordon-Levitt when he's pretending to be dapper, and a toddler dancing to any one of Beyonce's hits. Preferably a medley."

I love thrifting. Yes, I'm STILL writing about it.

2010-08-30T15:27:00.000-07:00

So, I love me a good thrifting trip for the scavenging fun and the savings. This love was recently reinforced by a weekend trip to the mall. With my boyfriend out of the house all day, I took it as an excuse to do all of the excessively girly things that I don't really do anymore because of the stares I would get from his judging eyes. (Just kidding, guys. I do what I want! But I really like shopping by myself, so it was nice to not have to be all "NO, BOYFRIEND. YOU CAN'T COME PICK OUT CLOTHES WITH ME.") Right after he closed the door, I prettied myself up and took a stroll to the mall.

HOLY GOD, I HATE MALLS. I honestly had forgotten. First of all, no one "pretties" up anymore. In fact, lots of people barely wear pants. But this was my day! I wasn't going to let a few pantsless bandits get in my way! Now, know that I didn't plan on buying anything. I mainly just wanted to oogle clothes. Instead, I became a senior citizen that CAN'T BELIEVE how much people charge for shirts. You! You over there! Do you see how much this costs? My mother could make this for pennies on the dollar! She could also feed me and my 11 siblings for less than $3.50! Just kidding, I don't have 11 siblings. But my mother was mighty creative with potatoes.

And that shock came from looking at the prices for the evil, evil (yet so pretty sometimes!) Forever 21. They pride themselves on being a budget store, and let's be honest--they are. But I had a hard time buying one piece of clothing for $22.50. That could buy me an armful at Goodwill! Also though, I think that I feel this way because the trends this fall are so incredibly thriftable. '90s minimalism/sorta grunge is back with a vengence (like it ever left), and thrift stores seem to only stock things from that era. That ugly floral maxi dress for $19.50 will probably cost you $6, max via a thrift store. And that's a refined thrift store.

Quick "refined" side note: There's a place in Portland called "The Bins" (i.e. the Goodwill outlet) that charges you per pound. It's something like $1 per pound of stuff you have. Sure, you should only root around with gloves on (yeah, people have found gross things in there), but I like the novelty of buying a wardrobe in pounds.

Don't like wearing other peoples' cast-offs? Get over it. Seriously, I don't have much else to say besides that. Normally, lepers aren't donating their clothes left and right, so you're not really risking much by not buying things new. Usually a nice trip through the washing machine will quell any fears you have. Also, you're creating less waste! Congratulations, the environment loves you.

Now, once I have a little more capital, I plan on fully supporting classy retail stores that I love. Because hello--we all need to buy new stuff every now and then to keep the cycle of "Buy, Donate, then Thrift Another's Bounty" alive.

Slices of heaven

2010-08-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

Cannot get enough of agate slice rings. Seriously, all I want to do is pile these puppies onto every finger. They're so rugged yet elegant, like a lumberjack wearing a prom dress. Unfortunately, most of these precious gems are out of my price range (meaning they're over $10), but the second these lovelies become uncool, I am snatching them up from the clearance bin.

The Princess Diaries (sans Annie Hath)

2010-08-23T10:26:00.000-07:00

Silly Bandz (the Princess edition) have made my life so much better. I'm not being hyperbolic, I promise. There is something intensely--dare I say--SILLY about wearing rubberbands on your wrist that morph into shapes. Even if people think they're stupid (which trust me, some people will), they still want to see what shapes you have. They're the best icebreaker ever! And besides, my accessories are evolving and maturing from "wear the biggest/sparkliest pieces that you can" into "wear the most ridiculous, fun things possible."

*Disclaimer: In case my friend Sanja reads this, I have to give her credit for getting me on the Silly Bandz-wagon. She was the first person that I saw them on, and I made fun of her relentlessly. Now, I see that I was just jealous.

INSPIRATION NATION

2010-08-19T14:16:00.001-07:00

The middle photo was taken from The Sartorialist, which I think is a little overhyped as a site, but the boy (Scott Schuman) certainly does know how to take a picture. While these three pictures aren't the be-all and end-all of what I've been (stylishly) thinking about lately, they're certainly a good start.

I'm a sucker for photos of nebulas and other cosmic things of that gorgeous nature. All of the colors work so incredibly well together, and while there are tons of clothes I'd like to buy with that exact picture printed on them, I see it simply as the colors I want to wear together all the time. With glitter sprayed over them to achieve the appropriate effect, obviously.

Not sure why I'm so attracted to the middle picture--I think it's the absolute effortlessness that this woman exudes while wearing an ensemble that's decidedly full of effort. No one wakes up and decides that it would be easier to throw on their multi-buckled gladiator boots instead of a pair of flippy-floppies. And that dress? I DIE. Seriously. Chiffon dresses that blow around in the wind like they're going to show everything if you don't move the right way are my all-time favorites. Only in theory, though. I unconsciously tried to re-create this look for my last birthday. Let's just say that I did not exude natural grace and beauty like this lass does. No, I exuded more of a "desperately clutching to the world's whispiest fabric and using my boyfriend as an ineffective wind shield" effect. It was charming.

And finally, we have Winny and Johnny. I include this picture because I'm getting a wee bit obsessed with cross jewelry and sheer shirts/dresses/everything else, but also for the "coupling" aspect of the duo's outfits. I find that even though I have a distinct style that I like to play around with (Golden Girls sparkle meets all-American comfort with a strange dominiatrix moment thrown in for fun and confusion), I definitely have a tendency to blend in with whoever I'm dating at the time. Yes, I'm that amorphous person that starts to look like their dog. Except I look like my boyfriend. Who's not a dog. Anywho, I wake up every so often realizing that it's been a long time since I wore a pattern OTHER than plaid and a jean other than a skinny, so I have to remind myself to take a little extra effort and look more like myself. Which, to make a rambling point, is what Winona does perfectly here. Though, if my boyfriend looked like Jim Carrey during his Mask days, I'd probably try a lot harder to look like myself too.

So, there we have it! A PEEK INTO MY SECLUDED (fashion) MIND. Kind of like Inception, but not at all.

Let's fall for Fall, shall we?

2010-08-18T12:56:00.000-07:00

We shall! In all seriousness, as much as I FREAKING LOVE the concept of back-to-school shopping (or for most people, back-to-oh wait, nothing's really changing for me except the weather shopping), I have a really difficult time thinking about fall trends, "it" colors, and the purse that you simply must have, or you'll cease to be a fashionable creature.

Of course, I buy all of the fall fashion rags. But for the most part, I'm finding that I have a hard time following their tried-and-true trend stories. What if I don't want to look like a dandy schoolboy OR a sexy secretary? What if I want to look like Rosie the Riveter? Or Mae West? That's why I think it's more helpful (at least for me) to focus on general pictures that get me all excited (and yes, 1/2 of them are pornographic) rather than a concrete item like harem pants. My main exception for this is with jewelry. Because I'm like an angry toddler when I see a great ring/amazing earrings, and I'm all "FUCK THEMES! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT."

So, because I bet you're all super curious as to what's inspiring my fall wardrobe*, check back in either 10 minutes or tomorrow--depending on how on top of things I am--for some pictures and stuff!

*I feel the need to clarify something about a "fall wardrobe" here. By no means am I the kind of person who is able to--or feels comfortable--buying an entirely new wardrobe for the season. I mean that I'll be taking an inventory of my current (slightly shrunken, thanks to moving) closet, and then start thrifting to beat the band. Because babygirl's gotta stay on a budget! There's no point in buying knee-high cognac boots if you can't afford to go anywhere in them.

Mean reds.

2010-08-11T08:07:00.000-07:00

OOOO DAMN, I am in a mood today. Yup, after not blogging for forever, I've decided to end my radio silence with "God guys, I'm in such a shitty mood."

While I'm trying to help it, (cue whining voice), it's hard to do that! I think it's a mix of a bunch of things (most of which mainly concern my job), but I also get in a funk whenever I ignore my blog. I still read all of the blogs on my blogroll, of course, but during the summer months, I can't really stand getting dressed, and as a result, all of my writing inspiration goes out the window. With fall coming though, and with the start of school for both me and my boyfriend, I feel like I'll get some of the fantastic "back-to-school" outfit excitement that I missed out on last year. I plan on wearing at least one plaid skirt, and I'm going to try to get my boyfriend to dress like a 1920s newspaper boy. IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.

However, since I can't stay in a bad mood until September, I'm going to try and look pretty today. Life-changing goal, right? Awhile back, I found a silky Christian Dior blouse at Goodwill and snatched it up for $4. I'm thinking that, paired with my pinky-mauvey-what color ARE you skirt that I've worn to death plus a few things called huge jewels and make-up will be a first step toward a thrillingly good mood.

Because nothing says "safety" like a monkey spewing stars.

2010-07-29T13:39:00.001-07:00

Yup. That's the helmet that I decided to buy so that my noggin doesn't get crushed while I'm scootin' around town. I had this dream of buying a sleek, beautiful helmet that would look like I wasn't wearing a helmet, until I realized this: helmets are always going to look like helmets.

Yes, some are better than others, but rather than wasting time trying to find the one decent-looking helmet in the world, I should probably just admit that I'm not attempting to look good; I'm just trying to prevent a head trauma. So, that's why I'm soon going to be sporting a teal Paul Frank helmet. And probably sing along to "Safety Dance."

This is it.

2010-07-21T16:43:00.000-07:00

Please don't think I'm referencing the Michael Jackson biopic. I assure you, I'm not. I'm referencing something far more important.

THE HOLY GRAIL.

Of shirts, that is. First of all, it was discovered at House of Vintage. Yup, I can't stop talking about that place. However, I discovered this shirt upon my last visit in February. AND IT WAS STILL THERE. Isn't that a sign? Yes. Yes it is. So, I clutched it to my chest like a mother saving her baby from a shipwreck, and wandered around the store attempting to rationalize spending $25 on a shirt. I mean, fate is a good enough rationalization, right? That's what I thought. Until I realized that the whole "not having a steady job" and "enjoying the ability to buy food" meant that this was out of my meager budget. So, I'm back to dreaming about it. And hoping that if I go back in three months (which, by that time, I'll certainly have found a WILDLY fulfilling and well-paying job, right?), it'll still be there, waiting for me to clutch it and finally bring it home.

Because mere words do absolutely nothing for it, here is a mathmatical/visual representation. A bunch of these + some of these (except in silver) + this going up the back of the shirt + this shape = HEAVEN IN MY CLOSET (someday).

Rhinestone stretch rings are for (non-committal) lovers.

2010-07-19T12:19:00.000-07:00

Or for people who have fingers that swell periodically throughout the day. It's safe to say that I love rings, but more often than not, I FREAK OUT when I'm wearing them. Because for whatever reason, I really, really like knowing that when I put a ring on, I can take it off easily.

What can I say? I despise sparkly commitment.

Anyway, because my finger sizes range from svelte little digits to pork sausages over the course of a 24-hour-period, the ring that was barely hanging on to my middle finger this morning has cemented itself in that exact spot by lunchtime. Cue freak-out, and a frantic desire to butter up my hand and GET IT OFF.

So, when I found this HUGE (and man, it's huge. Like, strangers look around to see where the light it coming from when I wear it on a sunny day and initiate its mega-prism effect) rhinestone ring at Target, I had to buy it for two reasons. 1) At the risk of repeating myself, it's blindingly large, and 2) It's got a stretchy band! That's right. It's a metal stretch band that's keeping that baby on, so unless I gain 50 pounds in two hours, I can whip this thang off whenever I feel like it! Finally, I can return to my "use 'em and lose 'em" accessorizing strategy.

My skinnies done gone and saved my life.

2010-07-18T15:19:00.000-07:00

OK, so one of the recent changes in my life that has accompanied my reclocation to Portland is my lack of a car. It's a conscious choice--this city is insanely bike-friendly, and cars cost lots of money that could be better spent on pretty dresses and rent. So, I Craigslisted it up, snatched me a bike, and now I scoot around town on it.

Now, believe it or not, my current fancy aesthetic doesn't really lend itself all that well to bike-riding. I've yet to master a ladylike dismount, so basically, all of NE Portland will see my bits if I dress how I normally do.

Enter the (stretchy) skinny jeans and hipster boyfriend shorts.

I have a love-hate relationship with skinny jeans, like most women who aren't shaped like 10-year-old boys tend to. Pros: Stretch pairs are so malleable! And I look like Olivia Newton-John during her Grease days! Cons: FINDING A PAIR THAT FITS IS IMPOSSIBLE. The waists on all of my gape terribly, and some of them have the saggiest knees ever. I know. I have such huge problems. However, I've learned that skinny jeans are simply the best for bike riding. They're tight enough so that the fabric won't get caught in the bike chain, and have enough give to let my legs do their thangs.

When it gets hot though, skinny jeans are the pits. So, I throw on shorts--not of the booty variety, but of the "cut off right above the knee" variety. Are they flattering? Nope. Does my boyfriend have a pair that he wears all the time? Affirmative. But there's a reason why you see every person on a bike (it seems) wearing this short length. It keeps your upper thighs protected from seat chafing, but lets your shins go crazy!

While I certainly haven't hung up my dresses and skirts yet, I'm still trying to figure out how to best include them in my day-to-day wardrobe that now requires some flexibility for commuting purposes. I'll keep you all posted on the THRILLING developments!

Back in the habit.

2010-07-15T10:54:00.000-07:00

Don't judge, Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit is one of my favorite movies.

So, I'm finally settled in my new city/apartment--well, sort of settled. We still don't have a light in the kitchen, which makes cooking midnight snacks downright comical, but I think it's getting fixed soon. It's funny, because while I'm very quick to try and settle myself, I'm realizing more and more that "settling" is actually a super-long process, and it's not something that can be wrapped up in the course of a week and a half.

Now, since I didn't have internet, but my mind was SIMPLY BURSTING with all sorts of fashionable thoughts, I wrote all these fun posts in Microsoft Word and was all "oh man, I'll just copy, paste, and be on my way!" UM, NO. I cannot paste anything in here. So, for now, my most fashionable musings are inacessible. In lieu of me waxing philosophic about the photographic stylings of Mario Testino, you'll soon be getting posts all about how skinny jeans are going to save my life and limbs, the wonder of stretch rhinestone rings, and the shirt that got away/will haunt my dreams until the day I die. Get ready.

Sorry, I swear I'm done now.

2010-06-21T18:34:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to leave you guys with something pretty to look at. A Charles James ballgown from the 1950s.

SO FIERCE.

Miss me yet?

2010-06-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

One of the many things that I love about having a blog is the inflated sense of self-importance it gives me. I'll go days without writing and suddenly clutch my chest thinking "my goodness! I've stranded my millions of readers! Whatever will they do without my clever witticisms about short skirts?"

Obviously, y'all are doing fine, but I'd still like to pop back in and explain my absence just so I can stop grabbing my chest. I have sensitive skin, and it's getting quite red from the constant worrying.

I'm moving in less than two weeks, so I'm in a packing tizzy. This also means that I'm thinking about what to wear less and less, considering that most of my Sunday (and Monday-Saturday) best has been packed. That being said, just you wait until I'm settled in my new land. I'm gonna get downright prolific.

She was wearing denim capris.

2010-06-13T05:47:00.001-07:00

The following story has nothing to do with style or sequins, hence why I felt the need to at least have the title reference what this woman (my hero) was wearing.

Aight, so I hostess at a sort of Cajun restaurant. I say "sort of Cajun" because our "Cajun Cheeseburger" is just a burger that someone screams "CAJUN!" at before it's taken to the table.

I was working last night, as I'm known to do on Saturday nights, and this awesome party of 10 kids and their parents walk in. It's a softball team, and the kids are all "yay! We won!", while the parents are all "yay! WE BE WASTED." They sat down and were unentertaining for awhile. And then the mother of all mothers came to see me at my little hostess stand.

"Hi, sweetie!"
"Hi miss. Is there anything I can do for you?" (This is me speaking, by the way. I call everyone miss so that I don't insult a cougar who doesn't think she's a "ma'am" yet).
"Yeahhhh....can I get some of these mardi gras beads?"
"Oh, sure! How many do you want?"
"Um...lemme think. Yeah, I need 6--I got 6 kids. 6 necklaces for my little margaritas!"

She endearingly referred to her children as margaritas and then stumbled back to her table with necklaces for her brood. Parenting role model = found.

Oh dear.

2010-06-11T15:42:00.000-07:00

My short-shorts love has bitten me in the ass. Almost literally! You see, even though I'm as vain as a teenage beauty queen, I find very few occasions to check out my bee-hind in a mirror.

I know. What a shame.

Anywho, my favorite pair of paint-stained shorts was feeling a little off, so I turned around to see if something weird was going on in the back. SOMETHING WAS.

Yeah, the conventions of cutoff-making say that you should draw a marker line on your pants and THEN cut them, but I'm normally confident enough to think that I won't flip out and stray away from my mental marker line. That confidence has been all but shattered. I messed up on the inseam of the left leg, so there is a huge chunk of denim that's just missing off a pair of already teeny shorts.

In conclusion, I've been wearing paint-splattered denim underpants out of the house for weeks now. What worse is that it took me this long to notice. I should probably inspect myself a little more carefully before leaving the house so that I don't accidentally depart looking like this lil' lady one day.*

*Except on the days when I'm going for "pornographic disco ball." Happens more often than you might think.

Why spending money is awesome and terrible.

2010-06-09T13:49:00.001-07:00

So, I went to Target last night with my dearest friend Sanja. This was such a huge mistake. You see, as I've said at least five times before, I'm trying not to spend as much money since I'm moving soon. This is incredibly difficult for me. I'll share this anecdote try to and illuminate this point.

I graduated from college approximately one year ago, and I was one of the lucky souls to find a full-time salaried job in my field. In hindsight, I should have been WAYYYY more suspicious than I was then of my good luck. Anywho, since I was still living rent-free with my parents (which I'm realizing more and more was the biggest luxury ever), I was confused as to what to do with these things called "paychecks for more than $200."

Yeah, I'm not stupid. I have a savings account, and I dutifully deposited a certain amount of each paycheck into said account. But I still had monies leftover. And I lack two wonderful virtues: patience and the ability to have money NOT burn a hole in my pocket. So I would buy $50 worth of cheap jewelry or another pair of shoes or something unnecessary like that.

After leaving said job several months ago and going "ruh roh!" many times about no longer having decent paychecks, I decided to be smarter about my spending and you know, not do it as much. This is like a cocaine addict waking up in his/her own feces and deciding that they're going to lay off the blow and start running 5 miles every day. Translation: NOT EASY, PALS.

Since Target is the mecca of all things good and beautiful in the world (and a place where I have a difficult time leaving without at least $20 worth of goods) it's sort of like leading that now-athletic recovering addict into a crack den and saying "I'll be right back! Try not to sniff anything, K?" Sorry for the extended metaphor. I'm also trying to kick a mean drug habit.

However, I like spending time with my ladyfriend, and since we'll soon be doing different things with our lives in different places, trips to the shopping crack den are numbered. Therefore, I went. And OHMYGOD WHY DO CUTE CLOTHES/ACCESSORIES EXIST? I know this is technically a fashion blog, but seriously. I freak out if I buy clothes that cost more than $10 lately.

First of all, there's this. Stripes AND sequins? My two biggest sartorial weaknesses. I would wear it everywhere except for a prison visit, lest I be mistaken for a fabulous inmate.

I think Zac Posen is cute as a button. And this dress is pretty as a posie.

Every now and then, I like subtle jewelry.

Um, hi. Mauve is my favorite color. EVERY HEEL SHOULD BE MAUVE.

Like the good little spendthrift I'm trying to be though, I left empty-handed and full of shopping frustration/plans to try every "get rich quick" hoax I'd ever heard of.

Um, yay.

2010-06-03T14:17:00.000-07:00

My pal Chelsea informed me that she doesn't think they have that shirt on their website anymore, and guess what? THEY TOTALLY DON'T! Huzzah!

I'm sorry, but if you're going to advertise t-shirts that basically say "anorexia is so bomb!", you're gonna have a little bit of a backlash.

For the record, here's a shirt that I have no problem with. "I slept with tiger"? That's dangerously close to an "I love lamp" rip-off, grammatically speaking.

Fuck you, Urban Outfitters.

2010-06-02T17:54:00.001-07:00

No, seriously.

FUCK YOU.

Read the description of this shirt. It's priceless. Because nothing says "eat more or however much you'd like!" like a t-shirt that says "eat less."

I fell off the face of the earth while wearing booty shorts.

2010-05-27T17:54:00.000-07:00

Heyyyyy brother!

Reader(s?), please tell me that you watch Arrested Development. Because if you don't, "heyyy brother" and this ensuing post will mean nothing to you. If you're a fan, then this next paragraph will probably rock your world. Not really, but a gal can dream.

So, it's summa-sum-summatime, right? Right. It's been hot as Hades in the Chicagoland area, and for some reason, I want to dress even trashier than I normally do when it's hot. This is a recent development, I swear. I used to HATE shorts with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Now I'm all "I wanna be like the girl on the Nair commercials!"

I wear short shorts, and I'm damn proud of it. My favorite (and so far only) pair are paint-stained cutoffs. I like to think that I resemble Tobias in all his never-nude glory. To ensure that I don't wear out my beloved colorful cutoffs, I think I may have to buy some cheap Goodwill jeans and start hacking.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go yell at the children that have apparently decided to camp out underneath my bedroom window and scream bloody murder about the rules of every single game known to man. Yup. It's summer.

SO BOMB.

2010-05-17T05:52:00.000-07:00

It's mah b-day today! I'm officially 23, the only age more pointless than 14 (seriously, think about it. 13 was cool because you were finally a "teen," and 15 meant that you were only a year away from possibly starring on MTV in My Super Sweet Sixteen. Yeah. 14's lookin' pretty stupid.)

What really matters about today isn't age, though. What matters is listening to this song and being gifted with glorious things. Yes, things! Things are great. Unlike that song, which is sort of crappy. Even for me.

Yesterday, my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew all came over to celebrate the fact that I got born. I opened up a card from my sis and b-i-l (God, I'm lazy), and saw a picture of the NO SLEEP TILL BROOKLYN BANGLE.

That's right. Let that sink in for a moment.

Waves of happiness were experienced. Wave 1: Aww, my sister reads my blog! That's so neat/nice!

Wave 2: HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE ONLY THING I'VE EVER WANTED TO OWN. Obviously, I exagerrate, but not as much as you're thinking.

Wave 3: Aww, she took time to wade through all of the ridiculous things that I post and choose the one thing that's gotten me more excited than even a parade of trannies could.

Love, love, love.

And now for the most pressing query of all

2010-05-13T17:34:00.000-07:00

Why are the most adorable rain booties only made for little girls? Grown women who love cartoon cats have to walk around in rainy weather too, ya know.

(go to Nordstrom.com to buy these if you're under the age of 12. Or if you're lucky enough to have baby feet and an adult age.)

The Alchemist

2010-05-13T15:41:00.000-07:00

Oh, Paulo Coelho. Your mystical book astounds me on so many levels! And I don't even like magical realism all that much. Anywho, this has nothing to do with that book and everything to do with this necklace and my middle school social studies class.

I'm not sure why, but for some reason, I had to pretend that I was an alchemist in 6th grade. I want to say it was during our "medieval" unit, but that still seems like a far stretch. Then again, this was the same grade in which I decided that the best way to get an A+ on a group project about Jane Goodall was to make monkey masks out of paper plates and have each group member wear them while discussing their portion/simultaneously saying "oo! oo! ah! ah! We love Jane!"

Spoiler alert: we got an A+.

So, back to alchemy. For yet another reason, I thought that the main thing an alchemist should carry is a full perfume bottle with glitter mixed in it. You know, because alchemists turned stuff into gold...and perfume. After a short (yet compelling) presentation, and after spritzing the air no less than 20 times with glittery Calvin Klein perfume, I took my seat and wished that I could always magically scent and sparkle the air around me--just like a real alchemist. Yes, I'm aware that this medieval unit taught me absolutely nothing.

However, it turns out that all I had to do was wait approximately 9 years, go to Modcloth.com and buy this "Apothecutie" thing, which will apparently allow me to "simply spread a sense of wonder!"

Whatever. Everyone knows an apothecary is just a poor man's alchemist.

The New (Hustlin') Style

2010-05-11T14:17:00.000-07:00

So, since yesterday, I haven't thought about much else besides that No Sleep Till Brooklyn bangle.

I mean, sure, I thrifted royal blue culottes for $3 and caught up on Gossip Girl, but Beastie Boys-inspired jewelry has occupied most of my brain space. I try to realistic about most things in life in an attempt to avoid disappointment, so I'm already trying to find a replacement for this lovely bracelet that will almost surely sell out hours after its late summer debut. Out of curiousity, I went to Etsy and typed in "no sleep till brooklyn" to see what I could find.

Um, this pillowcase necklace will not cut it.

However, I am looking for things to decorate the apartment/house/tent I'll soon be living in. This totally makes the cut.

The New Style

2010-05-10T19:47:00.000-07:00

Cannot stop looking at this.

I don't care that I'm about to be knee-deep (I'm hoping for just shin-deep, to be honest) in student loans. I will stop buying two-ply toilet paper and brand-name cereal so that I can afford this bangle. Why do I love it so? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS, SUCKAS.

1) I say "No sleep till Brooklyn" all the time, unironically. Whether I'm trying to keep my 1-year-old nephew awake, psyching myself to stay up until the ungodly hour of 11 pm, or taking a red eye to Brooklyn, you better believe I'm uttering those words. Now, instead of wasting my precious breath, I can just hold up my wrist.

2) The fact that it's made by Kate Spade--the most adorable Crayola-colored princess in existence--tickles my fancy.

3) I love when people ask me questions about my joolz, and now I'll be able to throw a "MIC CHECK!" into my response. Success.

August/fall 2010, you cannot come quickly enough. When it sells out and I'm left in the cold, Imma be super pissed.

Eating crow and wearing short skirts

2010-05-05T05:42:00.000-07:00

Bonus points to anyone who wants to research and explain to me why "eating crow" is akin to "sticking foot in mouth." I think both are fairly vile sayings, but both would be apt to describe this novel-length post. READ IT, KIDS.

Short skirts. How do we feel about them? Do we laugh at and judge girls that have to bend over in a special way so as to not reveal their ladybits? Do we silently point and giggle, while cursing the societal images that supposedly encourage dressing like a "whore," and questioning who the hell decided what a "whore" looked like? Or do we say "Damn, bitch! Where'd you get that awesome thing? I WANT IT IN THREE DIFFERENT COLORS."

I'm asking these questions after a particularly interesting Facebook exchange (yes, those do exist) I had this morning with a friend of mine. In a very thoughtful way, she called me out on yesterday's post, pointing out how she was caught off guard by my comment that the model should use her hair bow as a chastity belt, because it didn't sound like something I would say.

The best thing she said though was that it almost seemed like I was siding with bros who say ridiculous things like "well, with a skirt that short, she's totally asking for it."

Oh, shit.

It's interesting how many times I find my third-wave feminist beliefs (distilled down to: sex is awesome, girls should be able to act however they want, yay rah!) both clashing with and complementing my fashion sense. Even though I wear skirts and dresses that are far shorter than the Minnie Mouse model's, I tell myself that I'm doing it "ironically," as if that makes me more clever than a girl who wears a short skirt out to a bar because she likes her legs, and thinks guys (or girls) will like them too. Judging women (sorry guys, I don't feel like you get as harshly judged as the ladies do) by their clothing choices is one of the easiest things one can do, and yet it can be one of the most damaging things to do.

People act like making comments about too much clevage or leg showing is nothing, but in a very obvious way, these comments are another way to keep women from gaining too much confidence and in turn, power. It's truly not that far of a leap from the 19th century sentiment of "oh, Beatrice, your ankles are showing! Whatever will your husband say about your loose morals!" to the 21st century blame game of "Oh, sorry, whore. Did your tiny skirt get in the way of having sex with my boyfriend?? God, of course he can't keep his pants on when your crotch is in his face."

What I've tried to drive home all along on my blog is this: the way we choose to clothe ourselves says a whole lot more than just "well, I can't be naked, so I guess I need to have clothes." These choices can destroy or build up the confidence level of the dresser, say more about a person's personality than any acutal interaction with them, and cause a hell of a lot of controversy.

Frankly, I'd like to delete my last post. I'm disappointed and uncomfortable with how quickly I chose to make a snarky comment about a length of skirt that I wear on a near-weekly basis, especially when I think about how "pro-women making their own sartorial choices" I consider myself to be. My discomfort is magnified when especially when I read stuff like this. I invite you to read the whole article, but in case your eyes are tired from this post, I'll highlight one crucial point.

"According to the Daily Mail, 24 percent of women aged 18 to 24 believe that "wearing a short skirt, accepting a drink or having a conversation with the rapist made victims partly responsible [for their rapes]" (emphasis mine).

Wowzers. Here's to silently hanging out in bars while sipping water and wearing burlap sacks, I guess! While I think it's important to have a sense of humor about fashion as well, it's far more important to have discussions about why moral judgments (whether they're meant to be funny or not) are so quickly made on women who are just trying to wear what they want.

Prom is just as special for Minnie Mouse, OK?

2010-05-04T15:11:00.000-07:00

I reference Forever 21 SO DAMN MUCH, but when they offer up a "prom look" like this, how can I not post it on here?

Girlfriend. Turn that bow atop your head into a swaddled chastity belt of some sort. Not to be all conservative, but the length of your dress practically demands that kind of precaution.

You are so beautiful to me.

2010-05-03T18:26:00.000-07:00

Yes you are.

Peacock motifs make me intensely happy. My love for the gaudiest of animals was sparked thanks to a gender & art seminar I took during my last year of college. It was basically the best class in the history of ever, because a bunch of my favorite people were in it, it was taught by a glorious professor, and we got to point out clitorises (clitori?) on paintings after analyzing Katy Perry's music videos.

Somtimes, I miss college.

Also, I learned a bunch of interesting things, like how peacock feathers often symbolize penises. Well, they technically symbolize power, but THE DICK IS EVERYTHING, so those two words are interchangeable. Anyway, because I like being secretly (and nerdily) subversive, I try to wear/procure peacock things whenever I can.

Yup. Some people fight the patriarchy by marching for abortion rights and lobbying Congress for fair wages for women. I pretend I'm subverting it by wearing extravagant accessories that scream PENIS! to art history majors. And somehow, I still manage to sleep at night.

What to Wear When...RADICALLY CHANGING YOUR LIFE

2010-04-26T16:40:00.000-07:00

This is a selfish post. Well, it's not like a started a blog to be altruistic, but still. The title should technically be "This is what I'm going to wear when I move. Maybe you'll wear something like this to do fancy yoga in!"

Moving to another state doesn't necessarily constitute a radical life change for some, but guys? I'm not "some." I am the girl who has lived with her parents for 21 years. So the fact that I'm moving in a couple of months means that my mind is BLOWN on a daily basis by concepts like buying your own detergent and paying someone money in exchange for a place to live.

God, I'm going to be stuck eating Trix and washing my clothes in a sink with hand soap for approximately three months until I get the hang of things. Make that Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I hate that Trix pretends to be healthy because the puffs are fruit-shaped. THEY ARE ALSO NEON, YOU UNNATURALLY HYPER RABBIT.

But let's get down to brass tacks: what am I going to wear whilst moving?

Since I have to fly there, I had better be damn comfy. DAMN, I SAY. Also, I'm probably going to be really nervous about the whole "moving out of my parents' house/wait, I have to fly, too? God, I'm going to throw up," so anything that requires fine motor movement executed by non-shaking hands is out of the question. Buttons and clasps--I'm lookin' at you guys.

I'm thinking something like this: click to see clothes!

I sure do post a lot of comfy dresses on this blog. But whatever. There is nothing that matters more when flying than comfort, besides grabbing as many little bags of peanuts as you can. And judging by how low that neckline is, I'm bound to get a few extras...assuming that I have a male/lesbian flight attendant.

In other news, I love wrap cardigans, because I like the idea of wearing a blanket in public. And finally, since airline security is still kind of a bitch, I'm forgoing jewelry for the day. There is nothing worse than being behind the crazy bitch that acts all surprised when her 15 bangles and jeweled belt buckle set off the metal detector. To compensate, I'll be wearing slip-ons that would make Michael Jackson weep.

Now the only thing left to figure out is employment, where I'll actually be living, and how I'll meet my basic physical and emotional needs! At least one tough decision has been made.

What to buy with Saturday night's tip monies

2010-04-16T15:57:00.000-07:00

Thrilled to discover that Fendi now makes stripper heels. Welcome back to the high fashion world, lucite. We missed you!

(photo from Shoelust, fittingly)

Thanks for inviting my ass and boobs to the party!

2010-04-14T16:19:00.000-07:00

I rip on magazines a lot. I really shouldn't, because after my EXTENSIVE career as a journalist (4 whole years!) I realized how appealing it is to use lame headlines and pat cover lines when you've got a deadline. Yeah, I could make an article on the new addition to the primate house at Brookfield Zoo sound compelling, but I'd rather just write "Monkeys go bananas for their new habitat!" and go home.

That being said, I hold the editors and writers at nationally-known fashion magazines to a slightly higher standard than I do myself. So when a magazine like Bazaar--which is actually way more creative and interesting to read than Vogue--has the cover line "Curves are back!" on their upcoming issue, I get a little stabby. Seriously? I can sometimes stomach the token "Prints are in!" or "Neon is the new black!" line, but welcoming an entire body type back into the fold in such a pithy way is just irresponsible journalism.

The only good thing that can come of a cover line like that is that the corresponding story might be titled "Baby Got Back." Just to keep things clever, you know.

Imma be...ethical?

2010-04-12T18:18:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you know that I have fairly exclusive (and possibly pretentious) music tastes. Like, MGMT is way too mainstream for me--I have to listen to KGIL, or some super-new band like that.

Now, over the past couple of years, I've taken myself down a few levels of eliteness. Because life's too short to be judgemental about music, right? Nope. Because R. Kelly is awesome and I love listening to otherwise "terrible" rappers (meaning anyone who is a one-hit radio wonder. Becuase most legit rap music is actually pretty fantastic.) So I feel inauthentic when I'm all "oh wow, did you hear the new Free Energy album? It's pretty great," because "Ignition (Remix)" is blasting from my speakers for approximately three hours of every single day.

And yeah, I'll even listen to "Imma Be" by the Black Eyed Peas. Until Fergie comes in, and I switch back to my indie mix because I want to punch her in the throat.

All of this rambling is leading to something. I've made my peace with what I consider to be my balanced musical tastes. I can talk the pretentious talk about indie bands, but I can also walk the fluffy "shake ya ass!"walk with mainstream rappers. Up until very recently, this balance crossed over into my fashion purchases as well. Sure, I've got my fair share of thrifted items that are sustainable and awesomely cheap/individual, but I also frequented Forever 21 like a crack addict frequents...a Forever 21 filled with crack. I didn't feel too bad about it, even though I was pretty aware that clothes that cheap aren't being made by well-compensated, happy workers.

It's not like I had some epiphany from God or anything (though since the owners of Forever 21 are devout Christians who print "John 3:16" on the bottom of every F21 bag, they'd probably like me to have one) that made me want to avoid this store. Maybe it's just because I'm trying to not spend any money for a little while. Or maybe it's because I got sick of the fact that whenever I was going out somewhere, I thought to myself "why don't I run over to Forever 21 and buy some fun little dress for $15?" I could just look in my closet for the dresses that I've bought from that store and wear 'em out, but wait...most of them fit terribly, are literally falling apart at the seams, and look completely dated, even if they were bought just a few months ago.

Frankly, I expect more from my clothes. Oh, and also understand that my soapboxiness doesn't come from a sudden influx of money that allows me to buy myself really nice clothing. I just figure that if I can't afford to buy decently made clothing (if I am buying it new), then I'm not going to buy new clothing.

Not like I won't miss those fun, impulsive purchases though. God. I'm gonna need to listen to so much more R. Kelly to fill up the void Forever 21 is leaving in my soul.

What to Wear When...going on a first date

2010-04-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

I'm going to try my hand at a more substantive post, because I'm sure you've all been missing my witty words. So, in my world, substance = let's talk about date night clothing options!

Now, I'm a bit out of practice on this one. I haven't been on a "first date" in years. It's not like I've been with my boyfriend for forever, but most of the guys I've "dated" have been all "OMG, dates are so BOURGEOIS."

Sidenote: sometimes, people apply ideas that they've learned about in college to the wrong situations. Like, "hmm...I'm cheap. But I don't want to say I'm cheap. Let's instead say that I'm raging against the bourgeois machine! That'll do the trick!"

That being said, I don't currently go on many dates. When my boyfriend (I know, I throw that term around so much. BUT WHATEVS, I like saying boyfriend) is in town or I'm visiting him, I'll just dress my usual ridiculous way that he's used to. However, if I was trying to make a first impression, I wouldn't wear my normal "really short skirt or tight pants/oversized sparkly sweater combo" that I usually do when I'm out with him.

I'd probably wear something like this, paired with these and this.

Stay with me on the dress choice. First of all, that color is awesome. Second of all, what if the date goes badly and you start getting emotionally uncomfortable? The last thing you want to be is physically uncomfortable in a dress that binds you in so tightly that you can't eat. And besides, just because you're not showing the girls off doesn't mean that you're not sexy. You're wearing heels! And you have a clutch made of zippers! You're practically a dominatrix.

My new shopping buddy.

2010-04-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter, y'all! Or more importantly, Happy Day of REEEDICULOUS Hats!

Under pressure

2010-04-03T16:53:00.001-07:00

Whenever I get stressed about something, I eventually have a moment where I go "you know what, I'm pretty lucky to be worried about this lame thing rather than something terrible like contracting the ebola virus." Once that moment comes, I usually lighten up for a few seconds--long enough to start humming the intro to Queen's "Under Pressure." Then, my mind wanders to an awesome interview that Vanilla Ice gave back in the day in which he explained that no, "Ice Ice Baby" was not a direct rip-off of "Under Pressure." There's an extra "ding" in "Ice Ice Baby." Bulletproof logic, boy.

That paragraph is a roundabout way of me saying that I'm worried/stressed/freaked about most things happening in my life, but that I'm totally aware that I should buck up and be happy that I have things in my life that are important enough to me to be worried about.

Regularly scheduled posts about shoes, glitter, and crafts will resume shortly.

Until then, look at this picture of photographer/blogger Garance Dore. Women (and men) never look better to me than when they're smiling and doing something they love.

I want this.

2010-03-26T17:08:00.000-07:00

Etsy! Stop making it so hard to hate you! Just this morning, I was thinking about how much I like the idea of anatomically correct heart jewelry. I think it looks awesome, OK? And I don't need to explain about how much I like keys.

Look at the blog title, guys. I love me a good key.

So, when I saw this on here, I flipped. I'm not about to blow $36 on this, but I can totally post it here and go on about its preciousness.

JOOLZ!

2010-03-25T18:28:00.000-07:00

So, I've talked a little bit about my awesome grandma on this here blog--the lady of the golden booties and fantastic costume jewelry. Well, the other day, my mom offered up a few gems from my OTHER grandma, which have subsequently been making my life a whole lot better.

I think my favorite ring out of the bunch has to be one that looks something like this. Be aware that that picture is of a crazily expensive diamond engagement ring, and the one that I have...well, isn't. It's something that could probably be found at a discount department store in the "Fine Joolrey" section.

That being said, I absolutely love faux engagement rings. They get everyone so riled up and confused! I am so tickled by the importance and meaning attached to a band with a "diamond" in it worn on the ring finger of a lady's left hand. It's such a revered symbol that I can't help but be all "Look at me! I'm nowhere close to gettin' hitched, but I don't need a man to wear a ring on my left hand!" My feminist-lite attitude about faux engagement rings reminds me of the whole "right-hand ring" sensation that swept the country (or really, really tried to) a few years ago. All of these jewelry companies realized that they weren't capitalizing on the vast number of women who aren't married but still (gasp!) have disposable income. So, in the spirit of "Because you're worth it!", many started marketing these UGLY right-hand rings that were meant to destigmatize buying oneself jewelry. Ideally, if we could transcend time and space, "Single Ladies" would have accompanied these ads.

Damn. At the risk of ruining my right-hand ring rampage, I think this one is to die for. You've won this battle, right-hand ring, but not the war!

Girrrllll, you best be home by midnight!

2010-03-22T05:06:00.000-07:00

Oh, Aldo. Your sale section SLAYS ME. I feel like this is the shoe that Cinderella would have lost if her fairy godmother was RuPaul. And can we all agree that casting RuPaul as the fairy godmother would vastly improve that tale? Good.

But seriously. I mean, for all of my jibber-jabber about OMG SPARKLES, I don't really own enough pairs of sparkly shoes. I only have these, which sort of say "I'm running errands, but still want to blind people with my tootsies!" In other words, they're insufficient. However, I'm not sure that these stunners will pass my rigorous shoe buying test*. So, for now, they're strictly here for gazing purposes. Sigh.

*rigorous shoe buying test = are they over $10? Fuck. I better have at least seven outfits that are in desperate need of this shoe, otherwise, no dice.

No, YOU'RE fabulous, or, A non-fashion interlude

2010-03-18T14:10:00.001-07:00

Approximately 85% of the time, I think I'm a pretty lucky kid. And if wallowing wasn't one of my favorite hobbies, it would probably be more like 100% of the time. Today, I'm thinking that I'm lucky because of the small bunch of fantastic people that I call my pals. Compadres. Besties. Omega/G-ma Sal's buds. One of them is having a birthday today.

That one is none other than Kevin Michael Christy.

I like to think I'm one of his biggest fans. He's hilarious. He's "nice," but still hates most things. He has more knowledge of both high and low culture in his little pinky than I do in my whole body, yet manages to not talk down to me when I'm all "bhutto? What the fuck is bhutto?" (GOOGLE IT. IT'S AWESOME.) And last, but not least, he's been one of my biggest supporters in terms of this blog. And technically, in terms of life. Basically, he just tells me I'm great, and I believe him, because he hates things and is very honest.

So here's to you, KMC. Happy birthday to my dear friend.

What to Wear When...

2010-03-16T15:21:00.000-07:00

I was peeking at my past posts (and dying to form an alliterative sentence...) when I realized that I've been a bit heavy on the porn references lately. So, to keep it clean, and to keep you all coming back for more, more, more, I've decided to start a series called "What to Wear When..." Basically, this is just an excuse for me to live out my fantasies of dressing like a lawyer/Food Network chef/anyone with a career, really.

Why do I have to live out these fantasies? Because up until a week ago, my current "career" allowed me to wear anything I wanted. Or nothing at all. This isn't leading to joke about working the corner, I promise. Nay, I live the life of a "remote worker," meaning that I work from my room on a laptop my company gave me. For someone who loves dressing up, and who loves dressing up to show said outfits to other people, this was a death sentence. There are only so many times my mom can compliment me before I feel like she's just phoning it in (love you, Ma!).

Anywho, as someone who's looking to go to grad school next year, I needed more monies than I was currently making. So, after a couple months of failed 2nd job searches, I acted on a fantastic tip from a super-helpful friend and walked into a restaurant, filled out an application, and was hired on the spot to be a hostess. Which means that I FINALLY have an excuse to get all gussied up. And find comfortable shoes. Really comfortable shoes.

So, we're kicking off What to Wear When... not with lawyer garb or hooker wear, but with the restaurant industry in mind! Without further ado, here is the only outfit you should wear when hostess-ing. Seriously. I've worked four shifts, so I think I'm a pretty solid authority.

This.

With these.

These.

And any or all of these things.

The biggest thing here is, obviously, pulled-together comfort. Since I'm a literal gal, nothing says "pulled-together" to me like a wrap dress. You've turned yourself into a lovely package the moment you put it on! The leggings can be swapped out for tights (you creative thing, you!), but the supportive flats are non-negotiable. Yeah, they're expensive. Get over it. I think the cheapest supportive flats one can find are about $30-40. Naturalizer and Aerosoles are fantastic resources, in addition to Tsubo. If you're against spending money on good shoes, stand for six hours in crappy shoes. Your dogs will be barkin'. And don't be that person that thinks they can wear heels during your shift. You'll eventually get bunions and won't be physically able to shove your calloused foot into your adorable shoes.

Accessories are a must, and serve two purposes. 1) They give you something to fidget with and 2) They're conversation starters. Who wouldn't want to be greeted by someone wearing a panda ring and a cool scarf? Also, I feel like I might get more tips if I wear more feathers in my hair. There's no real logic behind that, besides the fact that I'll take any excuse I can come up with to wear more feathers.

SHOE PORN

2010-03-14T16:01:00.000-07:00

(photo from Shoelust. Where else would these come from?)

I feel like these Dsquared boots really give a new meaning to the term "orthopedic shoes."

Arts and Crafts: NSFW Edition

2010-03-09T12:36:00.001-08:00

Today, I started working on a new scarf. As I do with almost any creative task I undertake, I had some high-falutin' inspirational thought that quickly had to be downsized to fit my budget/talent level/patience level.

For example, I wanted to make this current scarf after seeing this pair of Rodarte tights. I think they're about two seasons old, so it makes sense that I'm finding them now and feeling like I've single-handedly discovered gold. Anyway, I loved the whole spiderweb feel of them, so I was all "Awesome! Let's buy me some black yarn and get to it! One day, I'll have my very own line called Vincente!" About 20 minutes after this epiphany, I realized that you can really only get the spiderweb look if you knit (The cool older sister of crocheting. Since it's cool, I obviously cannot do it.) "That's OK," I thought. "I'll just buy a really huge crochet hook for the whole open-weave effect, and it'll look EVEN BETTER THAN KNITTING."

Guys. That's a terribly optimistic thought, and very out-of-character for me. Still, I marched over to the fabric store to buy the necessary supplies. I headed down the needle/hook aisle, and started perusing the sizes. I bought the biggest one imaginable, which I thought at first (GROSS ALERT) looked like the world's biggest tampon. "No matter!", said I. "I'm a lady, and am used to holding lots of tampons! Let's do this shit!"

GUYS. I brought it home and started attempting to use it, and it's a joke. Crafters say that one of the positives of using a larger crochet hook is the "quick and easy satisfaction" one recieves from it, since it takes about half as long to crochet something when you've got a big-ass tool. Too bad the only "quick and easy satisfaction" I think of when using it comes from the fact that no, it doesn't look like a jumbo tampon, but rather this vibrator. Now, I get a nasty case of the middle-school giggles when I look at my massive blue crochet hook too often.

That being said, I'm totally sold on gargantuan hooks. I've only been crocheting now for about 15 minutes, and am a fourth of the way done with this very conceptual spiderweb scarf. And by "very conceptual," I mean "is black, has big stitches that look nothing like spiderwebs, and is nowhere near cool enough for the upcoming Vincente collection. But hell, I crocheted it with a sex toy look-a-like. That's worth a lot in my book."

Project Successful-Way

2010-03-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

I wanted to call this "Project FunWay!", but that sounds odd. Project Successful-Way sounds far more natural.

Aight, so I know that this is the second post of the day. Nay, not just the second post of the day, but the second post about the OSCARS. Cut me some slack, friends. For me, the Oscars telecast is as fun as a birthday party held in a bowling alley. SO FUN. Like a bowling alley b-day bash, I look forward to it all year.

Back on track. It took Michelle LeD's (forgive me for doing that to your name, dear), comment on the last post to make me realize that HOLY CRAP, I didn't write about Meryl Streep's dress. Somehow, the world is still rotating on its axis, but in case the cosmos notice my absent commentary, I'm here to remedy that now. Lady Streep looked diviiiiiiine. I mean, OK...she didn't really do anything different, per say, but the name "Meryl" is synonomous with "So talented! But almost always looks like a hot mess at award shows. God bless her." So, the fact that she showed up in something age-appropriate (yay for covered arms and classy clevage!), slightly daring (ooo, all-white! Lookin' like a classy cast member of Dynasty!", and fun (A zebra-motif cuff! A Swarovski crystal bag with a built-in handle!" is worth way more than an Oscar to that woman.

But the real cool thing? Her dress was a Chris March design! Remember, that guy from Project Runway (Season 4) that always finished his designs early so that he could nap? It turns out that he's one of the more successful (read: working) designers from the show. Congratulations, Chris!

"If fashion were porn, this dress would be the money shot."

2010-03-08T13:33:00.001-08:00

(photo from HuffPo)

That quote basically sums up why I love Gabourey Sidibe. Girlfriend is sassy, cleverly descriptive, and unafraid to compare fashion to bodily fluids to help us understand how awesome she looks.

When it comes down to it, I don't really care all that much about the actual Oscars ceremony.

Sidenote: Except when a female director wins. I LOVE YOU KATHRYN BIGELOW!

It should come as no surprise that I'm all about the pre-show for the fashions and for Ryan Seacrest's pained interactions with stars who pretend to like him for approximately two minutes.

Sidenote, part deux: How hard is it to ask the ladies who they're wearing, Ry Guy? That's your only real job! Stop asking what they ate for breakfast. No one cares that you think Peter Sarsgaard and Maggie Gyllenhaal shared a Pop-Tart.

When it comes to frocks of the night, I've going with Sandra Bullock in Marchesa for the win. Freakin' stunning. I die all the time for that vintage, slinky silhouette, and I enjoyed the fact that her chest was covered with diamonds. It made her stand out in the sea of women who apparently decided to boycott necklaces. Though I have to give a quick "You're my style hero!" nod to Carey Mulligan. She's precious! I just want to pinch her adorable, avant-garde cheeks! Her Prada gown was unique without being too "unique," and those earrings were gorgeous. Even though she does look better with dark hair, I applaud her for taking risks and nailing them approximately 95% of the time. Now I just hope that she's in lots of more movies that mainstream audiences love so that I can continue admiring her from afar.

Cherry Blossom Girl

2010-03-02T10:58:00.001-08:00

If you don't live in Chicago or on the East Coast, this post may not mean as much to you. For my fellow winter warriors, I think it's safe to say that we've now entered the "No, seriously. WINTER MUST END NOW" phase of the seemingly endless season. Once March hits, we're only 20 days away from the meterological spring, which means that on March 1, I fully expect to be able to walk around looking like an extra from Beach Blanket Bingo. What can I say? Patience isn't one of my many virtues.

It also doesn't help that there are places in the U.S. right now that have flowers blooming. Legit blossoms that scent the air. What does Chicago have? BARREN TREES. SNOW. AND UGLY COATS. So, if I can't be in a place that smells like freakin' cherry blossoms, I can at least look like a freakin' cherry blossom. By wearing this dress (even if it is out of stock. FANTASY, PEOPLE.) Or this number. Maybe this one?

OK, maybe not the last one. But in case I ever want to look like a luxe condom, I'll have that option.

Mantra.

2010-03-01T17:31:00.000-08:00

I'm fully aware that at times, my blog relies a little too much on the "OMG LOOK AT A PICTURE OF THIS RIDICULOUS ITEM!" template. On the other hand, I say "bitch, please!" to that awareness and offer up this stunner of a necklace. It's off of a website called Girl Props, which is as awesome as it sounds. It's where I got my wonderful two-finger peacock ring this past summer. They've been good to me. Normally, I rely on them for cheap jewelry that actually looks cheap, but this "statement necklace" is an astounding $50.

Then again, $50 is a small price to pay for a necklace that from far away looks like a nice gold choker, but up close, tells it like it is. Time to get savin'.

House of Vintage, part deux.

2010-02-28T16:43:00.001-08:00

I put some French in there to serve as a reminder of how classy my tastes are.

When I started writing this post (approximately 5 seconds ago), I felt like I should do some sort of analysis on why I like sequins and sparkles and gaudiness so much. And then I was all "oh, wait. I'm not in college anymore, and I'm not in grad school yet, so I'm allowed to like things without having to attribute those tastes to penis envy or something like that."

By the way, I like sequins, sparkles, and gaudiness so much because I wish I had a penis. A penis that belongs to a drag queen.

Now that that's settled, this weekend allowed me to procure a gem of a sweater at the ever-wonderful House of Vintage. Kudos to the boyfriend for spotting it and being all "hey, you there. Check this out! Sparkly enough?" Because otherwise, I could have easily passed it over. It's not subtle by any means, but when it's in the same vicinity as a gold cape and a fully sequined vestdress (is there such a thing as non-buyer's remorse? WHY DIDN'T I BUY THOSE THINGS?), a black gem sweater can fall between the cracks.

This brings the sequined sweater count to a modest four. If you don't think that's modest, SHUT YA MOUTH.

I don't have it in me anymore.

2010-02-22T16:48:00.000-08:00

Kidders! I totally do.

But I feel like I should come back after a long absence with some dramatic explanation as to why I haven't been writing about pretty, shiny things. Basically, it's because I was distracted by pretty, shiny things. The post title is copped from a Casiotone for the Painfully Alone song. If I waited for about three minutes, the title would have been "wamp wamp/what it do, what it do," because mixes of rap and sad electronica are completely bomb in my book.

I'm taking a mysterious trip out of town this weekend, and so far I've decided to pack too-short skirts and a sequined cardigan that resembles a cape. If I don't go to a drag show at some point during the weekend, I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb. CANNOT WAIT.

Show that neon pride.

2010-02-12T08:47:00.000-08:00

I hesitate to call myself "crafty."

"Crafty" can often lead to "creative," and Lord knows I can't live up to the expectations that people put on creative individuals. Ask me to make a macaroni necklace, and I will WOW you with my use of both elbow and campanelle pasta shapes, but ask me to sew an A-line skirt, or even produce a sketch of said skirt, I'll run away crying and stew over my inadequacies as a person for the next week.

Also, crafts used to make me think of two things: kindergarten and bitter divorcees who use their settlement monies to fund a line of purses made out of faux fur and woven together with the threads of UNENDING ANGER TOWARD THEIR FORMER SPOUSE. So, while I loved kindergarten, I'm not a big fan of lumping myself with angry women. However, when you only work for 20 hours a week, you're left with some time on your hands. Which is why I decided to try crocheting for a second time.

My mom tried to teach me several months ago, but I have this terrible tendency to give up on something if I'm not excelling at it within five minutes. After three minutes of trying to do a slip knot, I decided that my fingers were like sausages and therefore, I was genetically unable to continue trying. Fast forward to last month, where my mom (because she's still awesome and patient) agreed to teach me again. And for some odd reason, I was slipknotting my lil' heart out. My sausages transformed into the nimblest of fingers! Now, all I want to do is crochet with divorcees for the rest of my life!

So basically, that's the story of how I came to love crafts. That neon pink orb in the left corner was my second project. I wanted to combine my fondness toward paper chains from kindergarten, assaultingly bright colors, and scarves. Done, done, and done.

RIP

2010-02-11T13:02:00.000-08:00

Lee McQueen (founder of Alexander McQueen), 1969-2010.

Rather than pretend like I have the ability to take on the weighty task of describing this designer's aesthetic and shedding light on the impact that he made on modern fashion, I'm going to let people with far more knowledge and far better cameras take care of that. To see photos of his stunning collections and read a short biography, click here.

He will be so very missed.

"Yes, yes, a million times yes!"

2010-02-09T10:32:00.000-08:00

Just the other day, I was wondering how I could combine my love of plaid with my disdain for pants. Looks like Forever 21 and I share a brain. The truly sad thing here (besides the fact that I spend a good chunk of my day thinking about how to go pantsless while retaining some modesty) is that if this came in baby sizes, my nephew would be wearing it right now.

What I (should) talk about when I talk about fashion

2010-02-03T16:45:00.000-08:00

Color.

Detail.

Elegance.

(all photos of vintage Lanvin, all courtesy of the Googs)

I live in a veritable library. If you were to peruse one of the bookshelves in my house, you would be able to acquaint yourself with the finer aspects of woodworking, couture sewing techniques, and bread baking. While my interest hasn't been piqued by woodworking (yet! No, probably never.), I've recently taken an interest in the many fashion books we stock. My dad and I have looked through them together on many occasions--he would talk to me about the finer points of a certain designer's aesthetic, and I would ooh and ahh over the pretty photographs--but I've now taken to swiping them on my own.

I know! I'm growing up!

I gravitated toward more "known" designers at first, like Chanel and Christian Dior, but this past December I peeked at a Lanvin book. It was full of the most beautiful pieces of clothing that I think I will ever see--save for the Charles James Butterfly Dress. I challenge anyone who says that haute couture doesn't deserve to be defined as art. These pieces are not a "Resort Collection" at Forever 21 (and yes, that actually exists. For shame.) Vintage clothing from those houses stands as a physical representation of hundreds, and often thousands of hours of work. Since the demand for haute couture has decreased, we may never see pieces as exquisite as these ever again. That is something worth bemoaning, but rather than launch into a diatribe of "UGH! What happened to hand-sewn beaded trains and miles of rouched taffeta?", I'm just going to post some more gorgeous pictures.

Miley Cyrus wore something like this to last year's(?) Oscars. IT BEST NOT BE THE ACTUAL VINTAGE DIOR.

Hi, Balenciaga. You're perfect.

Gimme that Yves St. Laurent. Right now.

And that concludes the "Vintage Picturefest" portion of this week's blog posts!

Generic sexiness. Oh yeah!

2010-02-02T14:20:00.001-08:00

Sorry, ladies. Looks like you've missed the boat on Charlotte Russe's "intimate sets" sales. You could have snatched up one of these beauties for a mere $10! Here's hoping you were a more punctual shopper than I and already purchased yours. Not to say that this piece of polyester perfection isn't worth the $17.99 it's currently retailing for. I'm showcasing it from the back, because that's obviously the best part. I mean, I'd buy it just for that avant-garde hole! It says "I'm saucy, but not slutty--you only get to see a part of my back! Oddly enough, though, you get the full-butt view. Huh."

"It's bedroom vixen meets Goth band bassist."

2010-02-01T17:32:00.000-08:00

Normally, I don't have strong feelings for Valentine's Day, be they positive or negative. Last year, I spent eight hours in the library writing my thesis. I think a student worker gave me a piece of pity chocolate (which is the best kind, obviously.) The year before that, I went on a glorious pizza date with one of my lovely lady friends. And because I can only remember two years from the past, I'll stop there.

However, I'm convinced that I haven't cared about Valentine's Day all that much because I never had the right dress to wear. This year, that changes completely.

BEHOLD.

Meaning, KEEP LOOKING AT THAT DRESS ON THE RIGHT.

Is that not the most gorgeous prostitute/pirate wench costume you've ever seen? For the record, I absolutely love pin-up girl culture/the whole burlesque revival. THIS IS NOT INDICATIVE OF THAT. But Forever 21 really, really thinks it is. This lil' number (listed as The Boudoir Babe) is part of their "21 Dresses We Love" promotion on their website.

The title of this post? Yeah. That's how they describe the dress. I'd describe it as "laid-off hooker meets fabric scraps from the clearance bin." But, hey. Even us laid-off hookers gotta get some heart-shaped boxes of candy.

I'm probably going to talk about the tacky lingerie sales tomorrow. Meaning: come for the ugly dresses, stay for the boobs.

How to look like you kick ass and take names in the courtroom.

2010-01-29T08:48:00.001-08:00

Sick of my blog background, but can't get enough of my ABUSE OF THE CAPS LOCK KEY and style rantings? Go take a peek at my guest post for the The Reasonably Prudent Law Student on how to dress like a caricature of a legal assistant! Or a real-life professional.

Also, just look at that blog whenever you get a chance. It's written by the hilarious and talented Huma Rashid who--in addition to being a law school student/amazing writer--got a Twitter rise out of Karl Rove after she told him to "STFU." Amazing, no?

Thanks, Huma!