Gifting with Myself

I'll admit right off that I'm probably not at my best today, or rather, any day lately. I'm distracted, I'm kind of sad, and I'm not wearing any mascara. Therefore, I'm in prime position to want to unload lots of money in some sort of misguided attempt at retail therapy. That's why I'm spending a lot of time with my current best friends, Nordstrom and Sephora. It's sad--I'm not really indulging myself with anything right now, but if I were, oh, boy, if I were....I'd be buying one of these lovely gift sets from Sephora:

And yes, they are gift sets. And if I bought them, I would be buying them for myself. Not a gift. But it's a whole lot of stuff--in one box, for a reduced price! That's why, here and now, I am reclaiming the gift set. No more will it be used by husbands and out of town grandmothers who have no idea what you want for Christmas, and honestly, don't care that much or they would come up with something a little more original than a prepackaged gift set. No, now, it will be used only by the people who really appreciate it, people like me, who need something to get them through quarter life crises and messy kitchens. I need a gift set--the rings around my eyes scream for Smashbox, my pouty lips, chewed on lips beg for Bourjois.

God, now I'm pretty sure I'm going to plink down the cash for one of these things. Lord.

The Dilemma of New Jeans

When the going gets tough, the tough buy new jeans. Let's just say that it's time for me to buy some new pants. Although they are notoriously hard to fit, and can make you feel like refried crap while going through the process of shopping for them, nothing really lifts my spirits like a new pair of go anywhere-do anything pants. Especially if they make me feel small and cute and flirty. And the best pairs definitely do.

The problem is there are so many options, and these options go beyond flare leg or boot cut leg. My main problem is whether to buy an expensive, "investment" pair that I will baby and line dry and wash in Woolite every night, or cheaper, "I'll buy another pair in a couple of months" pants. I don't wear jeans that often because I work in a non-jeans environment, however, I would like to have a pair of go-to pants.

Therefore, I have been checking one of my favorite work day distractions: nordstrom.com. Nordstrom has this bombastic jeans finder thing, where you put in all this information and it pops out your perfect pants, and if you're feeling spry and like you need entertainment, some damn funny pants. And that is, of course, when I came upon these beauties:

Now, before you come and feel my head and ask me if I'm feeling feverish, I'll tell you that I hate these pants. They're the devil. You're looking at high waisted, tapered leg, Mom jeans. It kinda makes you throw up a little in your mouth, huh? You know what's going to make you full on upchuck? These pants cost $130. These are $130 Mom jeans. This totally shocks and awes me. I mean, how rich and stupid do you have to be to be like, "Oh, ok. Perhaps I can spend $130 to look like my crotch is roughly three feet long." Lord. Generally, when you tell me that I'm looking at over $100 jeans, I expect to see flattering, dark denim boot cut things with some kind of whiskering and premium-ness. Not. This.

So after finding this, being revolted, and deciding to write a post describing my feelings upon finding these (this blog is very therapeutic, by the way), I realized that a high waist is actually kind of "the style." Glamour this month has a whole long pictorial thing about copying the style of Annie Hall, and while I'm all for it because I heart Woody Allen with all the fiber of my being, I kinda threw up in my mouth a little then, too. Especially when I saw that they had actually bothered to print that high waisted pants are flattering because they disguise your muffin top. Ok, you know that sound that they play on the Price is Right when someone uses all their chips and still only drops it in the 0 holder in the Plinko board? That "Whah whah whah..." sound? Ok, I'm making that right now. High waisted pants look good on no one. NO ONE. To prove that point, take a look at Mischa Barton, who is taller, thinner, and whinier than you:

No offense to the OC, but Mischa looks WRETCHED here. She has faux saddlebags. FAUX SADDLEBAGS. She looks like a deranged farm hand. See what these pants do? Now, imagine if she had some boobs too, and how they would lay on her waistband. God, I'm seriously making myself sick with this post...

So, all that said, here's the story: Morgan wants new pants. However, she will not be buying high waisted ones. She encourages you to do the same.

The Spoils of a Trip to Target

I am blogging from home today, as we had a bit of a family emergency yesterday, and today I am spending the day recovering from it. It feels kind of strange writing for a fashion blog in my current state, as I look anything but fashionable. Currently, I am wearing a Planet Mom t-shirt and Old Navy yoga pants. Lovely. What's worse, when I went out earlier to run some errands I wore on my feet....Birkenstocks (you kinda expected me to say Crocs didn't you?). They are quiet hideous t-strap concoctions with crazy color mosaics on them. Not your typical fashion blogger attire, huh?

But I do have some interesting things to talk about because this is my first official Product Review post! Yea! I am going to try to make this a regular thing, because, well, for better or worse, I buy a bunch of crap. Especially beauty and make-up crap. And most of the time, it's pretty good stuff, but well, sometimes I buy some real stinkers. So I may as well use my idiocy to inform others. Just as I do with baseball players, I will award products with a sliding review that will range from "dead to me" to "Mark Ellis." Just a note--the sliding scale may change depending on my mood.

So the first product is Comforting Butter Body Wash from Neutrogena. For perhaps the only time ever, I'm blogging about a product that is brand spankin' new--so new that the picture I found on drugstore.com doesn't even show the new packaging. Well, the only difference is that where it says "deep moisture" on the pictured tube, the actual tube I bought says "comforting." So it's perhaps not revolutionary. ANYWAY, the product...I really like this one. I guess I should have a disclaimer here that I love body washes and soaps and things. But I am quiet picky. I like one that has a good lather, and has a scent that is not too faint nor too heavy. This one has both of those. The lather is good, however, it does not make my skin feel dry or itchy afterwards. The moisture lasts pretty much all day too. The scent is really what sells this, though. It smells exactly like the homemade icing my grandmother used to use on chocolate cakes. I love it. I take one sniff of it before I squirt it on the loofah, and I'm in heaven. And the best thing is, when I get out of the shower, I don't smell like a big plate of cookies (so if you want to smell like something edible after a shower, this probably isn't your cup of tea). The scent is not overwhelming at all. I'm sitting here sniffing my arm--God, I'm glad I'm at home--and I can detect a bit of it, just enough to remind me how good it smells. All in all, this is a great body wash, and I will probably buy it again. That's saying something, because I usually bounce around on these things.

My rating: (nearly) Gold Glove Winning Mark Ellis diving catch level

The next product is Burt's Bees Coconut Foot Creme. I should also put out a disclaimer that I love foot creams. Well, let me rephrase that. I like foot creams a lot in theory, but I'm not the best about using them. I'll buy them and use them faithfully for about a week, but then I get sick of wearing socks to bed, and I stop, or I just start falling asleep without doing it and end up breaking my nightly routine. I bought this one hoping to break that cycle. The thing that I thought would make me break the cycle is the smell of this stuff. It's really pretty great. In fact, I've used it for 3 nights now, and now whenever I walk into our bedroom, I smell coconut (and not that overly sweet fake coconut--the good stuff). That's a good thing because I like the smell of coconut. If you don't, this is not the foot cream for you. It's also not the foot cream for you if you are actually looking for a cream. This is a clear, goopy substance, not white and creamy like one would imagine of a product with the word "creme" in the title. It kinda reminds me of a thick, melty lip balm of something. This kinda threw me off when I put it on for the first time. In fact, it was a little off-putting. I actually like thick white stuff that I can slather on. The good news is, however, that unlike the thick white stuff, this is very easily absorbed. You put it on your feet, and they just kinda suck it up. I like that. There is a faint sticky feeling after putting it on, but if you follow the directions on the package and put on socks afterwards, you probably won't notice. And the good news is, it works. My heels are already feeling better, and it's just been 3 days. I am excited to see what happens to the harder calluses I have on the sides of my big toes.

All in all, I'll give this the rating of a double off the left field wall, i.e., not as good as my stellar Mark Ellis defensive plays, but pretty damn effective, and worthy of a cheer.


The last product I'll review is Revlon Super Lustrous Lip Gloss. I bought this after reading a review from Alison on My Wardrobe Today. Since she reviewed Pink Afterglow, I bought that shade as well. I do like it: it's sparkly, but not overly so. It wears well, perhaps even a bit better than more expensive lip glosses that I've tried. I especially like the feel of it--it's not sticky at all. Overall, it's a great lip gloss. I was thinking of buying another color since the formula is so nice, but when I looked at the other colors, I didn't see anything that really tickled my fancy. So if anything, I wish there were a bigger range of colors for this, perhaps something that rivals the Super Lustrous Lipstick line that Revlon also pedals.

Final review: another double off the left field wall

Meet Wally!

Today's guest columnist to Cult of the Black Sweater is my good friend, Wally. Wally is a walrus, and yes, he resents his uncreative, alliterative name. But Wally is also quite the fashionista. Here are some of Wally's favorite things:




As you can see, Wally is especially fond of shapeless dresses. After all, he's a walrus. That's why he loves this dress that Kelly Clarkson recently wore to the ASCAP Awards:
(Sorry if you can't see it--I shamelessly stole it from a website where to get the bigger version, I had create an account. And I'm lazy. Just so you know, it's a potato sack.)

Take it away, Wally:

My loveliest trout sandwiches:
Don't you just love this dress? It is fabulous, is it not? I can imagine it draped on the supple flesh of a female walrus, such as my dear heart Wilhelmina. She would wear it with much style, especially having just used her at home tusk-whitening kit. Much like your darling Ms. Clarkson here, it seems. In fact, is Ms. Clarkson a walrus? I mean, judging from the shapely legs, I imagine that she is not, but I can't really tell what's underneath the loveliest of dresses. If so, is she available for a twilight romp on the beach? I make a damn good sushi surpise.

Oh, and Wilhelmina--don't hate the playa. Hate the game.

Wallace P. Walrus, Esq.

What I Would Really Want to Wear, Were I Not a Chubby Girl Living In The Burbs

I've been reading a lot of things lately about the cultivation of one's own personal style. I, of course, am all for that, and feel that I have my own style rather locked in place. I would describe it as this: one part J.Crew catalog, one part business casual and two parts depressed English major, shaken and served over ice in a cheap Ikea martini glass. Oh, and with a sidecar of rabid baseball fan. Must not forget that.

Anyway, I've always seen these features in fashion magazines talking about personal style, and seriously, when those bitches talk about personal style, those bitches talk about personal style. Like X-treme personal style. As in, if you enjoy jeans, you are All-American. Nothing else. If you have a lace blouse, you're Victorian. That's it. There's no mixing of the fashion magazine personal style. You're this or you're that.

And of course I buy right into this because, well, I'm not that bright and shiny pictures of pretty women get me every time. And I always think that if I were to adopt one of these personal styles, I would definitely pick whatever the slutty offering is. It's sometimes called "bombshell," it's sometimes called "sexy," but whatever the thing is with the pencil skirts and the plunging v-neck sweaters, that's what I would go with. Mostly because I like to nurse my inner slut. But also because I love this hairstyle:

Seriously, if I didn' t work in an office or suffer from a real inability to style my hair, I would wear a bouffant every freakin' day. And also fishnet hose.

My daughter is smarter than me.

So my daughter got up this morning at 6:00, 30 minutes before I got up. She comes to my side of the bed, breaking me away from a dream where I was buying a mattress with the Oakland A's 3, 4, and 5 hitters. She only said two words, and those words caused me to get up out of bed right that minute, and follow her into the living room.

Those words? "I'm dressed."

And she was. What was she wearing? Jeans in a light wash, a black High School Musical short sleeve tee, a larger, gray long sleeve High School Musical tee, a gray fleece zip front hoodie, her suede jacket with a fur trim, and an Oakland A's Kid's Club hat.

Sigh.

Anyway, I chose not to fight her on it. She promptly went back to sleep on the couch. I went over to her twice to try to wrench one of the jackets off of her small back, but she woke up both times and gave me the evil eye.

God, she's just like me, and it drives me nuts.

Whatever. Anyway, I'm not mad. I'm not troubled. Sure, if I were her, I would have worn a cute little dress with patterned tights, mary janes, and a beret. But that's me. And I'm not hip, nor am I cool with the 8 year old crowd.

But it's the opera....

I'm consoling myself, so here are more affordable, cute dress choices for those who are over 8 and able to prove their love for pubescent boys in theater productions without wearing it on their chests:

I love this dress. It's from Kenneth Cole, and you can buy it at Macy's. I believe it's $139 smackaroos, but don't quote me on that. Anyway, with the wrap styling, along with the structured shirtdress feel to the dress, this would truly flatter any figure. And you could wear it to a day performance at the opera.

This another great option from UK retailer, Boden. It is $98, and has this season's great shirtdress shape, along with polka dots, which while being very popular, are also very fun. I don't know about you, but this dress reminds me of the dress worn by Gwen Stefani in the No Doubt "Don't Speak" video. I almost feel like buying it, just to keep my 12 year old self, the one who wanted to be Gwen Stefani in every single way, happy.

Last but not least, this dress serves as a big shout out to my grandmom, who is, while being a pretty darn good cook, also the consummate J.C. Penney enthusiast. If J.C. Penney has a sale, she knows about it, and she's already bought what you were going to get. If you need a mattress pad, she's got the woman in the mattress pad department on speed dial, so if you'll just tell her what kind you want, she'll put it back for you. She loves J.C. Penney, perhaps more than she loves me. Or life itself. And being the stylish maven that she is, she would also like this dress. It fits her two requirements: 1) It's from J.C. Penney, and 2). If you wear it, you're not going to fall out of it anywhere. At least if you buy the right size. And she knows how you're always buying the wrong size. Anyway, it's $39.99 (you'll probably get 20% off if you use your Penney's charge), and it's at J.C. Penney.

Passing the Fashion Torch

As some of you may know, I have an 8 year old daughter, a daughter who is opionated and style conscious, and as much as she tries to ignore it, totally like her mother. To get a better idea about my daughter, consider this discussion we had this morning as I was driving her to school:

Gabby: I don't have to wear a uniform tomorrow because we are going to the SF symphony. You don't have to wake me up--I'll pick out my clothes and get myself ready by myself.

Me: I'll do it anyway.

Gabby: No, you won't. I already know what I'm going to wear. I have to wear layers because it's windy over there (just a side note here: we live right across the bay from SF, but to hear my children and husband talk about it, it's about 5 light years away).

Me: So what is this grand outfit that you're planning?

Gabby: Jeans, a short sleeve t-shirt, a long-sleeve t-shirt, my Rubber Duckies sweatshirt, and a jacket.

Me: Jesus Christ, child! For one, you're poor body won't hold the weight of all that stuff. You're going to look like a Lucky magazine feature gone wrong! And Gabby, seriously, you're going to the symphony--don't you think you should dress it up a bit? (It should be noted here that by all accounts, I have raised my child right, yet she loves jeans and Red Lobster. Sometimes I feel like a failure as a parent.)

Gabby: My teacher says we don't need to dress up....

Me: Gabby, is your teacher married?

Gabby: No. Why does it matter?

Me: Do we really want to be getting our fashion tips from her?

And so it goes. I imagine a real scene in the morning, which I will probably lose, ending up coming to work all sulky and mad and full of fashion venom. Gabby fights much dirtier than me, but then again, I fought much dirtier than my mother. It's circle, I guess.

But were my daughter old enough to understand the beauty of both boys and internet shopping, I feel fairly certain that she would wear this:

I have this dress (in black, of course), and it is perfect. It is fabulously comfortable, yet it looks nice enough to wear to the symphony if one needed to. Plus, it is so damn versatile--I wear it on the weekends on lazy Sundays to cook and lay around outside, I've worn it to work with a camisole underneath and a cardigan, I even wore it out to dinner with the family with no camisole, a small cardigan, and glittery shoes. Gabby's teacher would be happy to know that you can layer several things with it--footless tights and a cardigan for those especially blustery SF days, perhaps even a pair of knee high riding boots. And then if you wanted to hit the beach afterwards, you can put your bathing suit underneath it as well. Perfection.

By the way, it's $88, and you can find it at jcrew.com. Just imagining how many outfits you can get out of this thing makes it worth $88, and seriously, how much would you spend on Gabby's outfit, with the jeans and the 18 t-shirts, and the vests and whatever? I clothe Gabby, so I'll tell you this: it's a hell of a lot more.

The Casualization of America

Today is a day when I'm just generally bummed (mostly about recent events in my home state), so I feel like railing on a familiar topic, one that I've preached about and gotten red in the face about before. I actually thought about not posting anything, because it just seems a bit frivolous in the face of everything that is going on in Virginia, but I wanted to keep it real for all of the sane English majors out there. And then, of course, I found a picture of these beauties:

Those shoes are from Hell. That has to be the most hideous thing that I've ever seen. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit just seeing it here, gracing my blog with its hideousness. Those of you who know me on Myspace (and if I don't know you on Myspace, let's be friends. I love friends!) have seen my crazy rantings regarding Crocs in the past, but this is just beyond the pale. I mean, lace up Crocs? Have we really sunk to that level? Seriously?

I really feel like Crocs are just a symptom of the disease. A recent fashion blog entry that I read
mentioned how on a recent trip to Canada, the blogger's boyfriend remarked that Canadians are better looking and more fit than Americans. While the more fit thing is probably true (damn you, American cheese and Anheuser Busch!), the blogger felt that folks look worse in America because they are dressed shoddier. I couldn't agree more. I look around at my fellow Americans and see us as the culture of the Elastic Waist. And no, I'm not telling you you should be cleaning your toilet in a Prada gown. But if you are going to be out, where people can see you, shouldn't you dare to put on something that fastens at the waist?

It also strikes me as odd that we are all comfortable at just looking "acceptable." I am a What Not to Wear addict, and when I watch the shows, it always comes out that the person being made over (who usually resembles The Creature from The Black Lagoon) mentions that she looked "acceptable" and thought that was ok. Is it really ok for us? Is it ok to be just acceptable at our jobs, at parenting, at our relationships? No, it's not ok. So it's not ok for us to look just acceptable either.

I think it is high time that as Americans we really started trying to change some things. We are plagued with barbaric gun laws (and a group of barbarians who keep these laws in place), obesity as a national epidemic and Crocs as a sign of our laziness and inability to slip real shoes on our feet. Obviously, the gun law thing isn't going to be overhauled overnight. But can't we get together and look like something?

Dear God people, let's do it for the children:

*Yes, folks, this is what you get when you Google Image Search "Sean Preston Federline."

A Sports Related Inquiry

Some of you know this, some of you don't, but I am a RABID Oakland A's fan (holla to my man Super Marco, and also to Banjo Man, who you see above. Nothing makes a girls season tickets worthwhile like a slightly smelly, bearded man plucking out tunes on a banjo). I love the Oakland A's like a mother loves her children--I get really, really pissed off at them sometimes, I say things that I don't mean, and then I decide to love them again. But through it all, the poor Oakland A's cannot get rid of me. I'm constantly there on the third base side, eating burritos and screaming at them. I have pet names for all of them, and I use them, loudy, during games. Except for Bobby Crosby. He's a permanent fixture on the Dead to Me list. So none of this applies to him. Yeah, Bobby. You know why.

Anyway, this begs the question: What does one wear to a ballgame? I have attacked this two different ways thus far this season. The first game, I wore the following ensemble: J.Crew jeans, Mark Ellis A's t-shirt (just your standard boxy t-shirt), green sneakers, green L.L. Bean fleece. That is all well and good. I looked totally fan-like. So my husband takes pictures of the family at the game, pictures of us all rockin' out on Opening Day. I look less like a fan and more like a granny smith apple. With legs. HIDEOUS like you would not believe! I am totally embarassed that I was seen like that, especially with 35,077 people, and my beloved Mark Ellis in attendance. I decided that from now on, unless it is the end of the world, and the only people who could possibly see me are the cockroaches and Cher, I will NEVER wear fleece again. If it is freezing, I will either wear my wool coat, or I will die. That is all.

So Saturday rolls around and it's time for another game. My husband reminds me that it will be cold, and that he is wearing long underwear to prepare (note to all the marrieds out there: is the fact that I have seen my husband in long underwear, and still wish to live with him a sign that we have a good marriage?). I neither own nor wish to acquire long underwear, and the pictures of Opening Night were fresh in my mind, so I instead opted for this ensemble: Gap jeans (that are too long), raspberry Ann Taylor v-neck merino sweater, black tank top, long H&M trench coat, and black heeled city boots (had to because of the longness of the pants). I definitely looked better, and these pictures (except for the ones where I was stuffing my face with a burrito) look a lot nicer. But the thing is, I didn't feel very fan-like. Yeah, I yelled my head off, and chanted "Yankee's Suck!" until I was told to stop, but I just didn't feel like the diehard fan that I am.

My conundrum is this: look like a fan, and be hideous, or look like myself and not be fun. Therefore, I am looking for some nicer "ball game clothes." That's where you come in. Any ideas for game appropriate clothes? Remember, our colors are green and gold. And also remember that it is windy in Oakland, at least until August or so.

Either leave your ideas in the comments, or send me an email. The best idea will be awarded with my unending love and dedication.

The Horrors of Friday the 13th

Since today is just a scary day, I think it is only appropriate to call out a repeat fashion offender, something that frightens even the strongest fashionistas to their very core. This is the kind of thing that forces even those of us with the strongest constitutions running in the other direction, holding our bags to our supple, heaving bosoms.

Of course, I speak of the matte jersey gaucho pant. Gaze upon it in its hideousness:

Folks, this is a professional picture, taken by someone who wants to sell you these pants (I would normally tell you who, but in this case...no). Do you see the problem here? Do you see why this is a problem (other than the fact that these are roughly the same color as the stuff that was passing through my son's colon when he was roughly four months old)?

Just in case you weren't looking in the right place, here's the issue: When you wear these pants, we. can. see. your. vulva. When you wear these pants, I KNOW where babies come from--in fact, I could demonstrate it to a group of curious 8 year olds. You see, these pants are made from matte jersey, and matte jersey can best be described as the high school best friend of the fabric world. It just hangs right on you, and lives to give up your secrets and make you look fat. Plus, with the fit of these things, you just cater right to its sick desires. The matte jersey is even laughing at you when you wear these things. Now just watch while it makes out with your boyfriend in the back of the band bus.

I know some people love these kind of pants because you can dress them up or down or whatever, and while that's true (for the segment of the population that is over 5'5" and under 160 lb--all the rest of you [myself included] should steer clear, at least in public), there are much better options. For starters, how's about choosing a pant with a waistband that will not expand when you decide to eat a whole chicken and a 5 lb. bag of taters? If that's not an option, or you just want something for those lazy VH1 marathon days, find a pair of comfy pants made out of a soft, yet substantial knit. I have a great pair from Ann Taylor Loft that is made of a comfy substantial knit that doesn't sneak into my crevices when I turn my back on it, and I would link it here, but I bought them a while ago and don't see them there any more. Shy away from anything thin or silky, as in addition the camel-toe effect, these also tend to look cheap after just a few washings. And nothing's worse than a cheap woman exposing her lady-parts. They force you into rehab for that kind of thing. Just ask Britney.

It Puts the Lotion on Its Skin Or Else It Gets the Hose Again

There are two times in my life when I unabashedly look HORRIBLE. These are 1) when I'm pregnant (and that's another post for another time), and 2) when my seasonal allergies strike, rendering me into a sack of mucus, tears, and complaints. Let's just say that this is allergy time, and I look appropriately gross.

When I was in college, my allergies were even worse, because I believe the College of William and Mary is set soundly in the Pollen Capitol of the World. There was pollen everywhere: you would come out to your car, and find it swallowed in a fine yellow powder. It was like trying to study T. S. Eliot in the middle of World War I (which sounds rather romantic, if you're a Hemingway lover, but it was totally not--romance is not bred when one looks like red-nosed death). Anyway, I spent my college career trying merely to stay alive, not to look beautiful. However, I remember during my freshman year coming into the bathroom of Barrett (my freshman hall), feeling as if I would surely slough off this mortal coil within hours, hoping merely to shower the snot off of myself, and seeing a girl from my hall standing there, calmly putting lotion on her face. Probably noticing that I was wretched, she said something to the effect of "My allergies are KILLER this year. This lotion sure does help!" I stood there thinking that only a revolver would help me at this point, and then calmly went into the shower, sneezed 18 times and resolved to hate her for the rest of my natural life.

But the thing is, you don't have to hate people who still manage to look human despite debilitating allergies. You too can prevail. Especially if you don't live in Williamsburg, VA. Then you haven't a prayer, I hate to tell you. But anyway, one way of dealing with the Snotty Death is to, yes, layer on the moisture cream. Allergies bring with them a red nose, and the only way to combat this is with something rich and smooth. I like Benefit's Dear John. It is thick, and does contain oil, so a just a dab will do you. I usually do a dot on my forehead, a dot on my chin, and during allergy season, a dot on the flaming nose.

A big problem during allergy season as well is watery eyes (this is also a problem if you, like me, get teary eyed when Tyra Banks discusses her weight on ANTM). I would never recommend wearing waterproof mascara, because I have heard that it breaks your lashes over time. And I have short ass lashes, so lord knows I don't need them breaking on me. If you are having an especially bad allergy day, don't wear any at all. This seems like sacrilege, especially given the relationship I have with my DiorShow, but it's better that than risk looking like Tammy Faye at an all day, dinner on the grounds Camp Meeting (all due respect to Tammy Faye). You can wear eye shadow, however. Bourjois makes a great cream waterproof shadow--Bourjois Intensely Luminous Waterproof Cream Eyeshadow. You can find it at Sephora. It has a lot of pigment, and thus is a good deal for the $13.50. I am getting ready to order the "trendy khaki" in just a few minutes.

So all in all, you can look human during allergy season. So I can quit hating my hallmate. She really had some good advice all those years ago--moisturizing is the key to looking human. And, of course, keeping your woman suit in pliable condition.

What I Could Spend My Rent Money On

I live in the SF Bay Area, which is notoriously a very expensive place to live. Which also makes it a very dumb place to live. Every month, I shell out $1800 for my house, which is not really that breathtaking a place, and has as one of its only attributes a proximity to the BART station. Grumble. But anyway, as a monthly addition to the blog, right around the 10th of the month, I will post what I would much rather be spending my rent money on, if I were, for instance, given a home by a rich dead relative.

So here's the monthly installment. All items are from net-a-porter.com, if say, you want to buy them and forego paying the man for a month, unlawful detainers be damned.

First item: Diane Von Furstenberg Jessica Wrap Dress--$365

Second item: Christian Laboutin Moon bow pumps (I'm drooling, here)--$650

Third item: Michael Kors Skorpios Leather Bag--$795

And I went $10 over. There goes two toll bridge trips and a Starbucks run!

Ipex or Ihype?

Ok, so I'm about 6 months late discussing the Ipex bra from Victoria's Secret. Sorry. I seemed to remember that I promised in the last post that I would never post anything that new. I guess I am just living up to my low expectations...he he.

First off, before I discuss the bra, I'll tell you that I am a coupon maven. If you give me a coupon for anything, I'll probably use it. Free goat with a tank of gas? I'm there. Buy one pair of Zooba pants, get the next half off? Sure. I'm serious. It's very nearly debilitating. It has gotten to the point that when I am low on cash, I cannot check my email, as I know it will be laden with coupons for free shipping, 10% off--- all those little things that companies throw out to snare suckers like me. I'm even aware that I'm an idiot for doing it, but I do it anyway. I'm horrible.

So, it should come as no surprise that when I received a coupon card in the mail for Victoria's Secret, I immediately planned a day out to use it. In my defense, I also had a coupon card for Ann Taylor Loft, and a gift card to Bath and Body Works so it was a kind of all day coupon extravaganza. But whatever. I noticed that the coupon was for $10 off an Ipex bra and some free panties. To be quite frank, I didn't even really care what it was for--I just wanted to get my cheaper lingerie. And I'm not even a huge VS fan. I rarely go in there, mostly opting for Macy's or Frederick's for my lingerie purchases. I get one pair of pajamas a year from them for Christmas from my husband, but that's really about it.

Nevertheless, after receiving a pedicure and scoring a fabu trench coat at H&M, I marched down to Victoria's Secret. When I got there, I remembered just how dumb I had found the Ipex commercials to be back when the bra was invented or patented or sprung from it's father's head full grown. Technological bras? Patents? When I heard that, I immediately thought, "Does it beep?" And then there's the price--the sucker is $48. And yes, I know that in the whole scheme of bra-buying, it's not quite Wacoal level. But $48. From Victoria's Secret. For a bra. It just smelled of hype. I totally wasn't feeling it at all, and even made a few jokes about it. But this all faded as I stood there holding the thing. It didn't look too harmful. And it would be just $38 with my coupon. And my Frederick's embroidered creation was a bit itchy--I brought the sucker home.

And now, I can say, I LOVE THAT FREAKIN' BRA. For those of you who don't know me personally, you should know that I have some big ole knockers. And this bra is perfect for that. It is both demure in that it holds me in and sexy in that it gives me just the right perkiness and shape. I love it. I have worn it to the park with my kids and husband where we ran races and went down slides and particpated and all manner of ruckus, and the ta-ta's were kept securely and comfortably. I wore it to A's opening night last night where I jumped, and yelled, and acted like a redneck for hours. Comfortable and perfect. The girls were perky and happy upon our return home, despite a crushing opening loss to the White Sox.

So, if you have boobs and like to treat them well, buy an Ipex. It's a good bra, despite the price. And if you're really interested after reading this, let me know, and I will email you a coupon they sent me. Lord knows I shouldn't be using the damn things any more!

P.S. Don't you just kinda hate me for posting a picture of Gisele Bundchen up there? Probably not the best way to get erudite female readers, huh?

Why Join a Cult?

Because we have good Kool-Aid! (Har, har, har).

Anyway, welcome to my new blog. If you're reading this, it's either because you like me, and know me from someplace either virtual or real (or you're a frenemy, and only pretend to like me--it's ok, I probably don't like you either) or because you stumbled on it while bored out of your mind at work and thought, "Cult? Will this one be circling our kind planet on a comet anytime soon, because I could really use a breather!" Either way, welcome! I promise to make this as fun and informative as possible.

Why did I start this blog, you may ask. Well, of the many things I am addicted to (mascara, true crime television, and books about the French revolution all included), the most debilitating of my addicitons is one to fashion blogs. I currently read about 21 of them daily, and they range from high end fashion discussions to tips for the fashionable and destitute. So, of course, being the adventurous soul that I am, I decided to throw my hat into the ring. On this blog, I will discuss things that I find interesting in the fashion and beauty world. Probably most of it will deal with things under $100 because I am poor. Will it be anything new and earth shattering? Probably not. But it will be fun, and most importantly, give you something to do between the hours of 9 and 5? Totally.

Oh, and the name--why did I name this blog well, what I named it? Mostly because I love black sweaters. That's fashion, huh? Maybe you do too. If you are a fellow black sweater lover, let me know what your favorite kind is.

Well, anyway, have a good one. I hope you'll be willing to waste your company's time with me!