Tuesday May 20, 2008

1) I lost my driver's license on the street in Chicago on Friday, along with about $50 in cash from my back pocket.  This means I'll now have to take my (nearly-expired) ten-year-old passport to the Ohio DMV and get an Ohio driver's license, which sucks because A: it gave me pleasure to remember Minneapolis every time I had to use my ID and B: that was a great fucking driver's license photo, and I'm certain the Ohio DMV workers will not be concerned with flattering light and angles.
2) The muscle relaxants prescribed for my fuckitty-uppity back and shoulder are Baby's First Pain Pills, and I want something strong- something that requires a black-box FDA warning and adult supervision to ingest.  Something that will actually relax this gigantic knot of unpleasantness and make it less painful to do things like take notes in class, or do my homework, or move my right arm at all.
3) My gorgeous fluttery Marc Jacobs dress arrived yesterday, and I cannot zip it.  I cannot get the damn thing to close over my ribcage and breasts.  And it's the largest size they had.
4) Gas is nearly $4 a gallon, and I spent twelve hours driving this weekend.
5) I have two giant presentations, three arts admin papers, two marketing papers, a marketing final, an accounting final, and a two-day alumni reunion for which I am expected to be Wonder D of Helpfulness and Problem-Solving in the next three weeks.
Trick question!  All of the above make me want to die. 
Thus, I'll be taking a two- to three-week hiatus from blogging/emailing/life until most of the above have dissipated.  Re: #3, I may also want to take a hiatus from eating, because I will make that dress fit.


Friday May 16, 2008

It was better before it rained for eleventeen fucking hours today, soaking my nice grey over-the-knee suede boots and ripping apart my cheap folding umbrella.

Coral dress, vintage (Mustardseed- because when I have a blah day, buying new dresses is the answer!)
Black shoes that you can't see:  Urban Outfitters.

Dazed look:  cheap red wine after jazz guitar recital at Ruth & Tim's.  Thanks, Ruth & Tim.


Wednesday May 14, 2008

Despite a renewed emphasis on veggies with every meal and proper hydration, I'm feeling chubby and dissatisfied today, so in lieu of a photo of today's unexciting brown sweater and jeans, here's what I wore yesterday.  After I pulled those brown heels out of the drawer this weekend, I've been compelled to wear them as often as possible.  Maybe wearing them today will make me less inclined to scowl.

Navy wrap dress, Forever 21; orange scarf, Forever 21; brown vintage mary janes.


Monday May 12, 2008

Currently, I have five rather gigantic projects to do before the end of the quarter, plus the need to drive to Chicago and find a sublet for the summer.  (Oh, yeah, that "good news coming soon" that I forgot about:  it's that I got an internship with a Chicago theater for the summer.) 
But!  Since I can't go to Chicago until Friday, and I have absolutely none of the information necessary to start any of these projects, let alone dream of finishing them up in a timely fashion, I make lists of things.  Such as:  future Netflix selections.  I expect that I'll have a reasonably massive amount of free time this summer, and will finally join the rest of the world in getting entertainment via Netflix.

Thus far, I'm pre-queueing:

An Affair to Remember
Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle
Science of Sleep
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
To Catch a Thief
Purple Rain
Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down
Taking of Pehlam 123
Paris is Burning
Godfather III
Wild Style
Lagerfeld Confidential
The Warriors
Friends with Money
the complete Prime Suspect series
Pat & Mike
The L Word
This American Life
from Showtime
Edit:  add Valley of the Dolls and Showgirls for trashy-fab.

Other suggestions?

Monday May 12, 2008

Goddamn it, the internet is telling me that I'm wrong. This is going to be a bitch of a habit to break.


Sunday May 11, 2008

Argh.  As if I wasn't already self-conscious about my looks (jeans too tight!  hair too floppy! skin not perfect!), Lucky Magazine (magalog?  sell-a-thon?)* has an article about how hard it is for women with "big feet" to find shoes.  How do they define "big feet"?  Apparently a size 9 and above is unladylike and shameful.

WTF, Lucky.  I wear a size 8 1/2 to 9, and I have never in my life thought my feet should be daintier and smaller.  Especially since the most common shoe size for American women is an 8 1/2.  But man, according to Lucky, once you go up a half-size from the norm, your feet suddenly become hideously oversized.

Now, I've seen big feet.  My best friend growing up wore a women's size 11, and yes, she had a hard time finding great heels that weren't too stripper-esque.  But jesus, give us ladies a break.  What will be next on your glossy full-color list of Things That You Should Feel Bad About:  "30 Days to Your Cutest Ears EVER"?  "Big-Toe Slimdown Secrets"?  "Are Your Elbows Aging You?"

*I didn't buy Lucky, I promise.  I just flipped through it this morning at the grocery store.  Of all the things in life I could spend $4 on, that magazine falls somewhere on the desirability list between superglue and store-brand bologna.

Sunday May 11, 2008

Brown dress with tiny pleats, vintage (Edith Machinist in NYC)
Brown belt, Target
Brown Mary Janes that you can't see, vintage (Mustardseed in Cincinnati)


Thursday May 8, 2008

To my immense shame and eternal embarrassment, I've caught myself using a tack-on preposition on several occasions this week.
"Where did you eat lunch at"?
"Where did she go to"?
...Oh, my midwest is showing*.  Why can't I just end the damn sentence one word prior, and save myself from the cringe that follows immediately upon the offending part of speech crossing my lips?  The inimitable Helen would give withering looks, I'm sure, and that should be reason enough to check myself before I wreck myself.
*See also: 
"crick" vs. "creek"
"warsh" vs. "wash"
"eks-cept" vs. "accept"
And I would like to point out, for my ego's sake, that none of the above abominations belong to me.  Now shut up about the way I say "room" and "roof", okay?


Tuesday May 6, 2008

I am both horrified and completely unsurprised that Mango's online store has an entire section devoted to "waistcoats and boleros". 
It is also somewhat odd that a page is devoted to "lumber jackets and anoraks".  Can we just call them "coats"?


Sunday May 4, 2008

"Economic stimulus check" means "buy pretty dresses from a possibly reputable* overstock site", right?

chloe w birds
Pretty birdies, pretty dress.

mj yellow
I have a thing for yellow right now.

mj birds
Again with the feathered friends.

mj white
Embroidered swirly things make my heart go pitter-patter.

*I did buy a green and white gingko DvF wrap dress from them this fall, and I'm pretty damn sure it's authentic.  Right style number, right label, right mix of materials, right print, high-quality construction... I'll take my chances with the poor translation and oh hell, even if these pieces turn out to be knockoffs, they're still pretty damn gorgeous.  This line of reasoning is every legit designer's worst fear, I know.  But!  $79!  Cannot argue with double-digit prices for Chloe and Marc Jacobs, I say.

It's probably a good thing that not all of these are available in my size at the moment.  It's also probably a bad thing that "my size" is currently being strained by a pound of mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto.  I knew it was a bad idea at the time, and now it's definitely been confirmed:  bad ideas made of cheese lead to the inability to button jeans.  Lesson learned.

Sunday May 4, 2008

For years, I refused to wear hats. See, when you have hair that is generally < 2" long for a decent stretch of time, people see a hat and they think "cancer patient".  So, only after many years of coaxing from friends (and the leopard fedora in 2000, Emmo) and the acquisition of a pretty spectacular scarf collection to hide growing-out hair awkwardness, have I embraced hats with a fervor.

In fact, I'm beginning to think that if it were feasible for me to sport a saucy hat for all my everyday activities, I might do so.  Just look at the gloriousness of my Kentucky Derby hat, created from a 30 minute trip to Michael's Craft Supply and 35 minutes of quality time with a hot glue gun:

That's not only a gigantic, 14" high spray of peacock feather, but YES, those are two small blue and green peacocks attached to the brim.  And some faux-vine, and 2 1/2 yards of orange satin ribbon.  I cannot tell you how many Southern gentlemen (you can tell they're authentically Southern by the unironic use of seersucker) stopped me to comment on the hat. 
Did I wear this with a peacock feather necklace, just to drive home yes, I did choose to adorn myself with showy splashy peacock feathers because I am a vain show-off?  You know I did.
Me, Courtney, and Alex.  Big hats mean no facial sunburn for their delicate Irish porcelain-ness.


Friday May 2, 2008

After my traumatically short and inexplicably layered ("Blunt bob with bangs, please!") haircut this January, I was understandably gun-shy about letting another strange man armed with dangerous scissors near my head.  Especially when the offending haircut costs upward of $40.  The growing-out layers had morphed into something oddly mullety and terrible of late, and finally, I could not avoid it any longer.  I had to find someone I could trust not to completely fuck up my haircut, and I had to make it very goddamn clear that if any more layers were to occur, I would be forced to take shears to the hairdresser's eyes.

I put my trust in Clifton Barbers.

Clifton Barbers is the old-school, painted-window barbershop down our block run by a jolly man in his late 50's.  The barbershop is three true barber's chairs, all with attached sinks for a shave, green linoleum, and a gumball machine in the corner.  I figured that for $14, I could make very specific hand gestures indicating exactly where I wanted my hair cut in a very straight line across the bottoms of my ears, and it would do for a temporary fix.  Well, Clifton Barbers, you have a convert.  I got a fabulous and quick and cheap haircut, and as a bonus, was also offered a puppy.  Your shop did not smell of old women, cooking beef (oh, this has happened.  And it was disgusting to mix the smell of shampoo with the smell of ground meat in a crock-pot.), or potpourri.  For $14 and the promise of a puppy, I'm your loyal customer for the remainder of my residence in Cincinnati.  Old-fashioned barber for the win!

...and with the $30ish I saved, I bought dinner and a studded enamel bracelet at a discount department store I'd never heard of- Stein Mart.  They seem to be a vaguely Southern phenomenon, and provide a really outstanding choice in the costume jewelry category.  I was also tempted to buy a wraparound jeweled enamel snake bracelet, a pinky ring, some jet beads, and a clutch.  I went with a black and silver bangle with pyramid studs, à la Kenneth Jay Lane.

Tomorrow:  Kentucky Derby, mint juleps, and a gorgeously gaudy peacock hat.  Photos to come.  Just as soon as I recover from the inevitable bourbon haze on Sunday morning.