Update: Shorts, and Why You Should Buy this Pair Right Here

These are awesome shorts. If you are a faithful reader, you know that I freaking hate shorts, and have coddled this hate for a long time. These shorts are enough to bring me out of it. I bought these on Friday while on a trip to Old Navy with the fam. I didn't bother trying them on, which breaks all matter of fashion rules, but I figured I could take them back if I needed to. Or I could just punish myself for looking horrible in them by cutting myself and listening to Fall Out Boy until I lost feeling in my hateful, deformed legs. Either/or. It's a good thing I didn't have to do that because a) I hate Fall Out Boy and b) Cutting doesn't sound that fun either. I'm telling you: these shorts are GREAT. I wore them on Saturday even though it was teeth chatteringly cold because I happened to try them on and my husband looked at me with this look he once gave me when we went to the prom and we were both 15 (he skipped a grade in school) and I had picked out a dress that was cut almost down to my navel (looking back at the pictures, I look like an extra from an old episode of Law and Order: SVU about child porn, but I thought I looked sogrownup! OMG!!!). His eyes got freaking huge. And he goes, "Your outfit looks really good today." Now, for my husband to comment on my outfit, either hell has frozen over or I look damn good. Usually the only comments he makes are about how much something I am wearing costs, and he had already given me looks of derision when I bought the shorts the night before. So I was so tickled, I just kept them on all day. They are so comfortable, and did I mention that I am hot in them?

I also love that they are camo and just a little butch. I felt all GI Jane in them. I paired them with a fitted American Apparel t-shirt and J.Crew wedge flip flops to sweeten up the package. God, I can't believe I said "sweeten the package."

Well, anyway, I'm happy, and I have new shorts, and I love them so much that I did laundry on Saturday night just so I could see them in my closet again within a day. If something can inspire me to do laundry, it's worth its weight in gold.

Go get your own pair at Old Navy. They're $26.50 which is a small price to pay for utopia.

I went and saw Vivienne Westwood's exhibit and all I got was an overheating car.

So. This past Saturday I grabbed the family, filled them up with naan and curry and we went to the big bad city to catch the Vivienne Westwood exhibit at San Francisco's DeYoung Museum. It is a limited time offering, and I was dying to go. The family looked a little bedraggled, but we went anyway (I don't think they understood that you should look fashionable to see a fashion exhibit. Sometimes I wonder how we became family in the first place). I was hoping to be able to show my daughter the beauty of fashion, and to get her to lay off the light washed jeans for a while. Not sure if that worked, but I know she had a good time.

The bad news is that I wasn't able to take pictures inside the exhibit. I wanted to take pictures to post on here, preferably ones with me in them because I want to redeem myself from the deformed face/Long John's hat pic a few posts back. But they wouldn't let me, so you'll just have to rely on my own personal takeaways from the exhibit. Overall, it was a lot of fun, very informative, and the clothes were breathtaking. I actually got more from it than an overheating car, but that was definitely part of my day. More about that later.

Here are my takeaways from the exhibit. Although Westwood's designs are unattainable by most of us, the ideas that guide these designs are viable and can enhance anyone's wardrobe.

1. Fashion should be fun.
Many of Westwood's early collections contained cheeky items meant to draw attention to not only the wearer, but also societal ironies at large. While I wouldn't recommend donning your own nude breeches with a fig leaf sewn over the crotch to work (this was an item included in the exhibit, and also something Westwood herself wore to run errands and such), I would recommend having fun with your look. One thing that I own that always makes me feel a bit cheeky and ironic is a pair of red and pink high heels. These heels are designed to look like men's wingtips, but the colors and heel make them decidedly feminine. I like pairing them with a suit or with cropped trousers and a sweater vest for a look that bends gender in a cheeky kind of way. Another thing to try is to play with a certain look that you're curious about by mixing them with some of your everyday pieces. For example, I love retro slutty looking clothes--tight pencil skirts, fishnet hose, corsets, all of those kind of things. While I wouldn't go full on slut for work, a denim pencil skirt and knee high boots approaches this look without going overboard.

2. Mix trends with tradition for a look that is always of the moment.
This is one thing Westwood is known for, but I had no idea how historical her pieces were until I went to the exhibit. Even the afforementioned nude breeches were drawn from an 18th century trend in men's wear (seriously...). If you want to do one of the metallics that are so hot right now, do it on a classic ballet flat or a chic clutch with a standard black dress.

3. You. Must. Wear. Heels.
Shut up about your feet hurting. Seriously. Sack up ladies. Westwood loves heels (and we're talking MEGA HEELS) because it puts a woman "on a pedestal." Doesn't that make you want to strap on a pair? If it doesn't, I don't care, put them on anyway. Nothing makes you look slimmer, more put together, and happier than a dyno-mite pair of heels. And if they fit you right, you shouldn't feel any pain.

4. You don't have to have a standard "personal style" for eva and eva.
Although one could argue that Westwood's overarching theme is a combination of tradition and trend, the way she interpreted this theme has evolved a lot since she began designing. Just because you like mod now doesn't mean that you will be wearing a black and white mini dress when you're 60. Go with what you like, and if it evolves over time, then that's fine. Even if you consider yourself to be a classic style, allow yourself to experiment outside of your comfort zone.

5. Never underestimate the beauty of a well-tailored, perfect suit.
I think this was the thing that surprised me the most--I always thought of Westwood as a kind of punk goddess, so I never imagined that so many of her designs would be suits. However, the exhibit showcased a bunch of her suits, all together. They were gorgeous, and each unique in their own way. If I could have taken it all home, I would have gladly forsaken the gorgeous ballgowns just for one suit. Those things were a work of art all by themselves.

So on the way home from seeing this, our car overheated. That was not fun. Thus, now, whenever I think of Vivienne Westwood, I'm going to think of my husband, dancing in the steam at the front of the car, and playing mechanic. So it's probably a good thing that I can't afford Vivienne Westwood. At least that's what I'm going to remind myself of whenever I think of those suits.

Let's Talk About Shorts, Baby

Ever since I was a small child, I have had a hatred for shorts. This was, of course, in direct opposition to my mother who LOVES shorts, and probably wants to be buried in the things. She would always beg me to wear them, would buy them for me when I caved, and then would lecture me endlessly when I refused to wear them. Why didn't I like them, she would ask. "You have such "shapely" legs," she would say.

Sorry Mom, but I believe the word you are looking for to replace shapely would be "ginormous." Partly because of hereditary (thanks, family) and partly because I took dance classes for more than a decade, I have some hefty legs. That's not to say that my legs are not strong--I don't know if I could break boards with them, but I'm sure I'm pretty damn close. Even to this day with my office job and other signs of an at-times sedentary lifestyle, my calves still have a nice, defined muscle. That tickles me in some ways. However, it does not make my desire for shorts any stronger. I still hate them.

However, this summer has made me start looking at them and saying "Well, maybe. But only maybe." I have been looking at a pair of cargo bermuda shorts and seeing them as a ballgame alternative. And thus, strangely, I have become quite enamored with them. However, it lays in the back of my mind that I will probably buy them and then decide I hate both them and my calves and then decide to spend the rest of the summer in bed, wearing only a white dressing gown and eating only chicken broth that I sip out of a gravy boat.

So in that spirit, I have decided to talk about shorts, because really, it's the only thing I'm thinking about I WANT TO BUY THEM THAT BAD. Here's what you need to know:

1. If you are thin and under the age of 25, please, by all means, wear shorts. Wear short shorts, wear long shorts, wear bikini bottoms, wear nothing. You have a great body so you can get away with it. But by all means, try to remember that you are over the age of 13. Sometimes short shorts paired with a t-shirt or another simple style shirt can make you look a bit young. So unless you're the decoy for To Catch a Predator, it's probably not the look you are going for. Pair your shorts with a nice blazer, or at least a shirt in a refined knit. I'm always really jealous of those folks in the J.Crew catalog with the short white shorts and the jewel-toned v-neck sweaters. Rock that look, not the Bobby-and-I-kissed-under-the-bleachers-and-he-tastes-like-dirt look.

2. Never wear high heels with really short shorts. That's a look of a different kind altogether. However, cute wedges worn with bermudas looks really fresh right now.

3. If you have a bit more meat on your bones, be willing to try on a few pairs. You may love the look of bermudas, but if they hit you at the widest part of your leg, you may be out of luck. However, another pair might hit you in a more flattering way. Try them all out, and if they don't work, well, they just don't work. Be prepared to sweat, baby.

4. Finally, remember this important rule with denim shorts:

You may think you look like this:

But you really look like this:

Step away from the denim shorts, folks. Step away.

What I Would Wear To Jerry Falwell's Funeral

If I could go to Jerry Falwell's funeral and I was graced overnight with perfect legs, I would wear this dress. Mostly because it is purple, and thus the color of pride and pure tote carrying evil. Because I believe that we find in First Corinthians in Paul's letter to the sluts "Let you go unto others and show a little leg for Jesus. And it will be good."

RIP Jerry. I hope your heaven is full of unwed teenage mothers and drag queens named Lola.

Summer Essentials #1

Let it be known that summer is not my favorite season, although I do like it much more in CA than I did in VA. Yes, I know that the weather is nice, and all of that, but if there is a more unstylish time of the year, I don't know of it. In summer, it is hot and sticky, and folks seem to use that to justify wearing denim shorts and short sleeve dress shirts, which I'm sure is what the devil wears to all the cook-outs that Hitler hosts in Hell. Summer is the seasonal equivalent to your cousin who has a mullett and drinks beer out of a can--its tacky, unrefined, and flouts the laws of civilization in our faces. Goddamn summer.

So as a public service, I bring to you items of clothing that are comfortable, and manage to help you distance yourself from Cousin Earl and his Yosemite Sam mudflaps. This will be a recurring segment, and it will recur as many times as I see fit. Because it's my blog. Yeah.

So without further adieu, I give you numero uno: The T-shirt Dress:

The t-shirt dress may just be the most perfect summer outfit, because it is just that: an outfit. And it is so freaking versatile. You can wear it to work with a necklace and heels (just as I did today), you can wear it over your swimsuit to the pool, you can wear it on errands with flats and a more irreverant necklace. And when you're done, you toss it in the washer, and go on with your life. It's just that simple. Nothing is cooler, nothing looks cuter in more situations, nothing can flow more seamlessly through the many facets of your life. Plus, they can be pretty damn cheap: the one above is $29 from Land's End.

The key with all of this is to find one that fits. You don't want anything too tight, because, well, that's hideous. You don't want to look like you're wearing a tent either. I will advise that if you buy the dress above from Land's End, you go with a size down. The sizes seem to be made a bit big. So you get an ego boost, and a great fitting dress. What's not to love?

Stay tuned for future posts in which I will tackle the important summer topics of shorts and why I never want to see your thighs again (it's not me, it's them), and the cheeky graphic tee, or rather, why I don't care if your boyfriend is out of town, and why I don't want to read this on your boobs.

A Tale of Two Scrubs

It's a sucky life when work gets in the way of your blogging. Well, that's my excuse. For the last few days, I've been really busy with actual work, and it hasn't been stuff that I could ignore because I was on a "conference call" with "Poopy McAnal Play, younger brother of Jewington McAnal Play." (That, my loyal readers, is what happens when one steps away from their computer, and leaves their normally politically correct and erudite blog in the clutches of their witty, unemployed husband. Ahem.) Anyway, I'll endeavor not to let it happen again, because, bitches, I've got lots to say. This is evidenced by tonight's marathon of posting. Let's just see how much I can pump out there before I retire to my pj's and Margaret Atwood.

So, yeah, folks, that's me, in my bathroom. Yes, I look slightly deranged, and no, my nose is not normally that oddly proportioned. Oh, and yes, I'm wearing a Long John Silver's hat. You will notice that I am holding two scrubs (if you can get past my choice of headwear that is). The smaller tub holds C.O. Bigelow's Lemon Sugar Body Scrub, and the larger tub holds my previously reviewed Boots Mediterranean Orange Chamomile and Honey Body Scrub.

So here's the thing: I went to Target and bought the Boots stuff, totally forgetting that I had earlier in the week used a Bath and Body Works gift card to order the Lemon Sugar Body scrub. Whooops! So now I've got two scrubs. And because I value the journalistic integrity of this blog, I have to compare them. For you to see. Anything less would just be yellow journalism at best.

Here's the details on the Boots scrub, if you remember from last time: somewhat creamy, awesome scent, fat little tub with a strangely hard to remove screw-off lid. About an 8.5 on the scale from 1 to 10. Since reviewing, I have used it many times, and have enjoyed it.

First let me tell you about the ordering situation of the Bath and Body Works scrub. If you've never ordered anything from Bath and Body Works, let me tell you that it is not for the faint of heart. The internet site is fine and dandy I guess, and they give you lots of good deals if you sign up for their updates on the website (I've gotten two free tubes of C.O Bigelow Mentha Lip Shine, which I love, along with some great discounts. In fact, when I ordered this stuff, I got $10 off my order, plus free shipping. Shabang.). The bad thing is, the stuff takes forever to get to you, and arrives in a hot mess. Oh, and unless you get free shipping (which is admittedly not hard to do) the shipping is pretty steep. This time was no different. In fact, when I opened my box, I found that lid for my body scrub was already cracked, and when I opened the stuff, it just fell apart. Nice. I kinda wonder who packs the stuff at B&BW HQ--homeless men with Tourette's? It's a possibility. But whatever. They consistently get my money, so I shouldn't complain too much.

So moving on to the scrub. I was really jazzed about it because a) I love the smell of lemons, and b) I have read good things about this scrub. I got in the tub and opened it up, which was much easier to do than with the Boots scrub, but this could have been because the lid was in two distinct pieces. The first thing I thought of was: lemon Pledge. Now, I've got no problem with lemon Pledge. But I was expecting something a little...fresher. A little less artificial, and perhaps a bit less sacharine. Especially since it says it is a 100% natural fragrance. Flipping it over, I saw that there is a whole bunch of stuff on the label that I can't pronounce. Hmmm...natural. Yeah. Not to be deterred, I slathered it on. I have to say--this is a good scrub. It's a sugar scrub, but it's not packed in that slimey oil. In fact, it's just...scrub particles suspended in some kind of gelly/glue like substance. And truthfully, it works really well. My legs were soft, moisturized, and had no redness, even after using it after shaving. I really like it. But there is that smell...

And the price. C.O. Bigelow scrub is $19.50, which is a little steep, given that my big ole tub of Boots was $9.99. And I have to say, for sheer creativity and naturalness of scent, I like the Boots better. That's not to say that I won't finish off my C.O. Bigelow scrub, and perhaps even yearn for more of the items in the collection--maybe just in a different scent. But, I believe that in a battle to the death, the Boots scrub would probably jackhammer the C.O. Bigelow scrub, and then hold its writhing body to the floor while it screams in vain for mercy.

So rock on Boots. I look forward to new products that I will most surely buy when I tell my husband that I'm going to Target to buy trash bags.

Stayin' Sexy in the City

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm a country girl. I grew up in a small town with a population of 1,007, I have a southern accent (Aye thank that it sounds goo-ud!), and I have sung many renditions of "I'll Fly Away" from the top of a hay bale. I'm country and proud.

However, I now live near a major city, and I love it. I love riding the BART (although last time I did this, I hurt my ankle) and emerging on the other side of the bay, amongst the big buildings and the bustle. Every time I'm there, I wonder why I don't move and stay there forever. I hope that I never lose that country girl inside myself who finds it all so terribly interesting. Recently, however, I was talking with a friend about going over to the city, and she mentioned that she feels intimidated by it, and always wonders if the SF residents look down on her style. I hadn't really thought of this recently, but as soon as she said it, I remembered the first time I went to New York when I was a junior in high school. I was scared out of my mind, not about the typical big city worries that a smalltown girl might have ("Will I get mugged? Will I see someone unlike those people I normally see everyday?), but rather about what I was going to wear. I bought so many things for the trip, and then the whole time I was there, I was self-conscious about what I was wearing. Did I look like a bumpkin? Could they tell where I was from? Even after the trip, on the plane ride home, I was conscious of it--I remember making a list of what I would wear next time I visited the city, deciding that I would then opt for more black pants and a pair of black city boots (which is a staple of mine to this day).

So, in an attempt to keep others from suffering this sad fate, and forcing legions of unhappy suburban/country girls to feel unwelcome within the big buildings and bright lights of the city, I give you The Cult's Guide to Bein' Hot in the City. If you are a city dweller, you can stop reading now. Go eat some street meat, city chick. This is a guide for those of us who grew up around more cows than people, but who still want to spend some days getting our culture on (did I really just type that?).

1. Invest in a good pair of boots. They call em "city boots" for a reason. These boots are comfortable and durable, yet they look nice poking out of the bottom of your jeans. The best thing about these? You can invest now, and in five years, these will still look damn good. I had a great pair of black J.Crew boots, which actually looked a lot like these my freshman year in college. I wore them until they literally started falling apart. Now, I have a pointy toed pair with a thinner heel. Whatever the style, black city boots are the perfect choice because they protect your feet from whatever is lurking on the city streets, whether it be rain, sleet, snow or bum urine.

2. Stick with structured, crisp fabrics. You may love linen, but leave it at your organic farm. Nothing looks worse than someone getting off the BART in something that has wrinkled itself on the way over. A perfect outfit would a structured pair of jeans (ones with a bit of stretch made of a nice, thick denim), a top made of a substantial knit, and a structured jacket. Make sure that you're wearing things that will wear well throughout the day, and better yet can transition from a museum during the day to a restaurant at night (it helps to keep a bit of sparkly jewelry in your bag for this very reason). Also, this is probably not the time to wear white. Cities are dirty, and you don't want the remains of your burrito and the splashes of a puddle on your pants.

3. Make sure your bag is a neutral color, is large enough to carry all your shit, and doesn't weigh you down. A woman steps off of the bus--she's wearing nice black trousers, a jewel toned v-neck knit shirt, and a denim blazer. She looks great. Until you notice that she's caring a stained canvas bag in last season's colors from the Target clearance rack. Seriously, if you're going to be schlepping your stuff around all day, find something decent to put it in. You're going to go into restaurants, museums, shops, and that bag is going to be there. Don't let it give away that you're not a bonafide stylish woman from wherever, be it the city, the country, the East Bay, whatever.

4. Be comfortable in your clothes. If you're going to be pulling on your shirt all day, you're going to look the opposite of stylish, no matter how much your stuff cost or what pricey city boutique you bought it in. Make sure everything fits, and nothing chafes or imprints your skin with the red mark of illfitting death. Further, if it gives you a muffin top, don't wear it to the country, don't wear it to the city, don't wear it. I don't care if you're paying city rent and can't afford anything else, IT DON'T MATTER--get thine self to a Target or an H&M immediately. Bitch, please.

5. Turn on your Ipod when you walk, and honey, stomp it out like you're walking through hell in gasoline soaked pajamas. If you walk like a confident city dweller, you could be wearing a trash bag on your body and condoms on your feet (is it sad that that's the first thing that came to my mind?). I have a stripper mix on my Ipod (hey, bitches, I do strippercise...what of it?), and that's the first thing I turn on when I go to SF. It makes me feel confident, hot, and just a little bitchy.

And the boots help too.

What I Could Spend My Rent Money On

It's that time of month again...I just paid my rent, which totally depresses me. So, to make myself feel better (and also because it's a monthly feature on this blog, and I'm kind of indebted to do it), I have culled together some cute items that I would much rather have spent my rent money on. This month, as a theme, I picked an upgrade of a couple of beloved items that are already in my wardrobe--an H&M trench coat, and a pair of wide legged navy Gap pants. I added a cute shirt that I would buy, if I didn't think it would look wretched on my short, large chested frame. Hey, a girl can dream, huh?

Chloe Wide Leg Pants--$720--net-a-porter.com

J. Crew Emmeline Blouse--$78--jcrew.com (I belive the green may be sold out, but it is still available in black and white.)

Burberry London Goodworth Double Breasted Jacket--$995--net-a-porter.com

Five Minute Faces

Alright, retail people, here's a quick resource guide on how to get my money. 1) Feature a TV show that I like and respect, 2) Give me a handy buying list of things that I absolutely must have to be fashionable/cute/well-groomed/successful, 3) Give me something for free. If you fulfill all these requirements, I will seriously be putty in your hands. I will buy anything--jail striped pajamas that somehow reference Prison Break, Tyra Banks brand sausage casings from ANTM, ANYTHING. Luckily for me, the company that did this most recently and got my money was Benefit cosmetics, a company that I already love and use regularly. And even more lucky for me, I ordered stuff, it came in, and I look super cute today.

Last week, I got an email from Benefit promoting a "Five Minute Face" done by Carmindy, the make-up artist from my Friday night mainstay, What Not to Wear. I guess Carmindy wrote a book, so as promotion, she is using Benefit cosmetics and issuing a guide to show you how to create your own look. I know about Carmindy's five minute face from watching the show, and I have to say that I've always wanted to figure out how to do it just the way she does. That's not to say that my current make-up routine lasts longer than five minutes. It doesn't. But Carmindy's look always looks so effortless, like you could wear it to work and feel good about yourself, and then vamp it up with just a few quick tricks, just like in a Gap ad or something. And lord knows I live my life in constant pursuit of Gap ad perfection. Anyway, so when I got the email saying that I was going to learn how to do it, I said, YIPPEEE! and completely ignored the growing pile of work on my desk in favor of some retail therapy. (Unfortunately, the thing is no longer up on Benefit's website, so you'll just have to take my word for all of this). Then, I dug a little deeper and discovered that if I bought two products from the line, I would get a FREE BOTTLE OF HIGH BEAM, Benefit's highlighting potion. I actually have been known to rock the Highbeam on occasion, and my tiny bottle from my Fake-It kit was looking depressed. So, I was completely and utterly sunk. I logged on and bought Carmindy's chosen eyeshadow (Towne Car) and lipstick (Sugar Rush) so fast that it made my head spin. And just that quickly, it arrived, fresh from UPS.

So I wore it this morning. I tried to go through Carmindy's routine: first I applied foundation (here I use MAC Mineral Something or Other), then powder (I use Chanel in Porcelain), and then dabbed the High Beam (the FREE High Beam) on my cheekbones. Cuteness already.

Then, I did my eyes. I used the new Towne Car shadow as a liner, just as Carmindy does. In fact, in the Benefit "Five Minute Face" this all you do on your eyes, save mascara. No shadows, no blending, no nothing. The interesting thing about Towne Car (and all the rest of the creaseless cream shadows that Benefit has now) is that they are...creamy. I wasn't really expecting that. Probably because I ordered it so damn fast that I didn't bother to read anything about it. My bad. But I really, really like it. The black is inky and deep, and has a LOT of pigment. I just barely dabbed my brush on it, and it was ready to go. That said, the Carmindy method (using this as a liner) was a little hard for me to grasp. Possibly because the stuff has so much pigment, it would be better to start with something lighter in color than Towne Car. I did get it figured out, and managed to somewhat smush it into the lash line, like Carmindy recommends on the show. I think it looks good, but I'm probably not going to look into any magnifying mirrors today. I'm little distressed as to what I might see if I look close enough. I'm sure I'll get better with it though, and I can't wait to try it as an eyeshadow base. I'm looking to make myself all sooty eyed and Bridget Bardot-esque. But back to today: since I was doing the Benefit thing, I put on double coats of Bad Gal lash. Bad Gal is a good mascara--I only have half a tube because my mom gave it to me after it didn't work on her (she has loads of eye irritations and after a while, she started tearing up after putting it on). It plumped up my lashes, and made me look just enough like a drag queen to make it worthwhile.

I topped this off with my Dallas blush (which I love, and deserves its own post, so I'll do that later), and the lipstick in Sugar Rush. Sugar Rush is a "Silky Finish lipstick" and I love it. It's not very heavy like a lot of lipsticks (I actually rarely wear a lipstick, preferring a light gloss or something similar),and does have a silky finish. When I first put it on, I thought that it looked a little darker than what I imagined it would be, but I think that was just the light or something. It's actually a pretty, light caramel color. I wouldn't say the color is dynamic or anything--it's a pretty standard medium neutral. But it does feel nice, and the color complements the Dallas blush well. So overall, it's a very good fit with the whole look.

Overall, ordering from Benefit was a very nice experience. I have never actually ordered from them directly--most of the time when I got their products before, I visited their store in Berkeley or went through Sephora. I got a heavy discount beforehand, so that was nice, and the order was shipped very quickly and arrived in four business days. Moreover, when I opened the box, it was wrapped in cute, Benefit themed tissue paper and sealed with a sticker. Of course, the packaging for all Benefit items is adorable. I will definitely use their website the next time I need something from them.

So try out the "Five Minute Face" with Benefit. It's Carmindy-licious.

A Stressful Rant and a Stress Free Product Review

Dear Students who are Near My Desk,

Ok ladies. It is only the second day of summer classes, and already you guys have forced me to write a blog entry addressing your crimes against my eyes. Yes, I know it is hot in the Bay Area, and it's not usually hot in the Bay Area and you're not quite sure how to handle it. I'm hot too, and last night I had to sleep with the windows open, and now my allergies are horrible. So I look doubly bad. But the difference between me and you is the fact that I HAVE ON CLOTHES. You, my lovely, lovely students, have somehow managed to mistake swimsuit cover ups for actual clothing. I know it's hard to tell the difference between the two. However, there are other things, besides shopping somewhere outside the beach/resort department, that you can do to help us all out there. Allow me to elucidate some handy dandy tips for making sure that you don't send me back into a migraine induced rage:

1. Horizontal stripes are not your friend. Especially not on a tube dress.

2. Do not wear those flouncy micro-mini things with the ruffles. Those are hideous, and were basically popular while I was in college. Which was a while ago. And by popular, I mean, to people under the age of 16. Clinton Kelly said it best when he said (and he actually said it in regards to one of these skirts), "Don't try to compete with the 16 year olds, because the 16 year olds always win." That's a valuable lesson. And if you are going to wear one, please don't grab your ass while running up the stairs and screaming "Don't look up my skirt! I'm wearing a thong!" Ah, nothing says future doctor like a visible thong under a ruffled mini-skirt.

3. If something is made of very thin cotton or linen, please wear a cami or tank underneath. Your bra may be pretty, but not all of us want to look at its intricacies all day, nor do we want to see the underside of your boob because you bought the wrong size in your afforementioned intricate bra.

4. Flip flops are for the shower, the beach and for slipping on to take the trash out. When you wear flat shoes with no support, and you have just a teensy bit more weight on you than, say, Barbie, you're going to look fatter. It's a fact of nature. I believe Einstein proved it. Moreover, an intricate floral print haltar dress paired with flip flops does not make you look romantic or stylish or any of the things that made you buy that abomination of a dress in the first place. It makes you look like a fat person who needs to go shoe shopping. And it also makes my eyes bleed.

5. Please see my post about matte jersey gauchos.

If you follow these tips, I'll let you use my stapler. And you know how you're always wanting to use my stapler. If you don't, no stapler for you.

Thanks,

Me

P.S. Bras are not optional.

Ok--now that that is out of the way...a product review. On my trip to Target, I also bought Johnson's Softoil Melt Away Stress Massaging Moisturizer, mostly because I knew this was the first week of school, and my life was going to suck this week. I got it home, and while I was sneaking my new bevvy of products into the bathroom and away from the watchful eye of my frugal husband, he noticed the bottle. Fortunately for me, he thought it was "that" kind of massage oil. Then he got excited. Really excited. Enough not to realize that I had a bunch of scented goodies in my arms (besides the things I reviewed yesterday, I also got some nail polish in my favorite color, some shampoo and conditioner, and some hand cream, but those were all needed items, and thus, not worthy of review). But alas, it is not that kind of massage oil (although my husband doesn't know that yet). It is actually a massage oil that you can use solo, and is like a baby oil. It does smell WONDERFUL however. It has a lavender scent that is not too heavy. And yes, it does "melt away stress." Or at least, it worked on me. Keep in mind, however, that I am not that bright, and am quite taken by advertising campaigns, marketing tools, and the placebo effect. But whatever the reason, after taking a bath and slathering this on my self, I was totally zenned out, and ready to veg. Moreover, it is a great moisturizer. My skin looked all glistening and porn-y after using it. The especially good news about this is that it is not heavy, and easy to use if you are usually not a big fan of oils and things. I didn't feel sticky or wet, nor did I feel greasy. I just felt at peace. And sleepy. And kinda stoned, actually. So put down the pipe and go buy this. Enjoy.

Product Reviews: Honey Do!

I had planned on writing this post all weekend after a Saturday trip to Target but then this morning I witnessed so many crimes of fashion perpretrated by our summer student body that I thought I should write about that. I mean, we're talking no bras, pajama pants, pareos tied over the body with no swimsuit underneath--basically anything you can think of that might make one's eyes bleed. I even started a post about this very special topic, and then realized that it was making my head hurt to be so angsty. So instead, you get my product review post of all the goodies I bought this weekend. All items are from Target, as that's the only place I went (aside from Trader Joe's, and seriously, I could write a post about their new Organic Strawberry Lemonade because it is damn good, but this isn't that type of blog). You should know that right now it is bloody hot in the Bay Area, and it is not usually hot here, so that tells you something about why I bought the products I bought, and why I went to Target in the first place (they have air conditioners, and I don't).

The first item is Boots Body Scrub in Orange, Chamomile and Honey. Unfortunately, Target's website doesn't have a picture of this item, and I'm not at home to take a picture of my tub of it, so you get no illustrations. Sorry. Anyway, I wanted to wear a skirt and heeled flops today, so I knew I needed to get the ole gams in fighting shape. Also, I wanted to try out something from this line since I'd heard that it is big in the UK, and I (like most other Americans) am enthused with items that are big there (except the Beckhams. I'm really quite over that). So I went straight to the bath aisle at Target to stock up. Let me just say now: the bath aisle at Target is now the bomb diggity. They have everything now--lots of cool looking boutique brands, a large selection of Burt's Bees, a ton of Boots items, and (gasp, gasp) KIEHL'S. AT TARGET. I was so excited that I did a little dance in the aisle, much to the chagrin of my 8 year old who rolled her eyes and declared that she didn't know me or my 3 year old son who was, at the time, walking around with the bottom of his shirt in his mouth and yelling about being naked. Unfortunately, the Kiehl's is still the same price as what you would pay at a Kiehl's shop, but it's there. At Target. This excites me.

But anyway...the scrub. First off, I smelled it in the store, and it is great. The honey, despite being the last listed item, is especially prevalent. It's a sweet smell, but not too sweet. I like it because it's a little different, and there is a certain naturalness to the smell. I liked the smell even more when I tried it in the shower. The consistency is nice too. I'm not a big fan of sugar or salt scrubs, where the scrubbing particles are packed in an oil (my mom likes those, and slathers the oil all over herself so she resembles a porn star when she's done, so I guess it's just a matter of taste), and this is not like that. It's not overly creamy either. It basically just a thin substance with small sandy particles. Kind of reminds me of a mildly creamy body wash with stuff in it. If you're looking for something creamy, I would go with one of the scrubs from The Body Shop, because this ain't it. This is just a basic scrub.

The good news is that it is gentle enough for sensitive skin and regular use. I have had a problem with scrubs in the past that were too abrasive and left me red, especially after shaving. This was not like that at all. I shaved right before I used it on Saturday night, and there were no red bumps or itchiness post bath. Then, sheerly to meet the high standards of investigative reporting that this blog necessitates, I used it again last night. I have no blotchiness, no redness, and my legs are soft, smooth, and as nice as legs that are roughly the same shade as Powder's can possibly be. I've actually been rubbing them under my desk all day because they make me happy.

The one beef I have with this product is that the tub it comes in is INSANELY hard to get open with wet hands. It's kinda fat, and you (at least, I) couldn't get a good grip on the turn off lid. It would be nice if Boots had considered that folks would be wet when trying to use it, so a wide screw off lid might not be the way to go . I struggled with it on Saturday night, finally getting it open after some wild thrashing about in the water. However, on Sunday, I just made my husband open it. He rolled his eyes, but he liked the end result, so he can't complain that much, now can he?

The second product (and actually, probably the last because this is getting so long) is Burt's Bees Honey Lip Balm. I have been using Burt's Bees lip balm since I was a freshman in college--in fact, during college, I rarely wore lipstick or lip gloss, and when I was feeling spry, would rely on this. Yes, college was a dark time for your friendly fashion blogger. But anyway, I have always been partial to the peppermint tingle given by the original lip balm. However, when I saw this at Target, having already been tempted by the honey scrub, I decided to give this a shot. And let me say--this is awesome. I love this stuff. In fact, today, I am just wearing this--no lip gloss or lipstick at all. The smell is a little more floral/perfumey than pure honey, but it is nice and not obtrusive at all. And even better--my lips look so good. This stuff is clear like other balms, but it makes my lips look so nice. I don't know why. And this feels a bit more silky than the original balm: I'm not sure if it actually is, but it feels that way. So anyway, I love it, and now I'm jonesing for more Burt's Bees stuff. The Honey body butter looks especially tempting...

Anyway, I have one more product to review, but I'm going to give it a bit more of a test tonight, and hopefully review it tomorrow. I will also get my husband's take on that product. So stay tuned--and remember, let my beauty product addiction work for you!

Californication

As many of you know, I am a relatively recent arrival to California. And although I was drawn to this place like a moth to the flame in many ways and decided I wanted to move here the very second I laid eyes on the area outside of the San Francisco airport (if you ever want to hear a good California story, allow me to tell you about the first time I came here, which is another story for another time), I still have my share of...disagreements with California. First off, there's no parking, and if you grew up in VA where one can park anywhere they damn well please, you too would find this oppressive. Second off, it's a tad granola-crunchy for my taste. In VA, I was probably the most liberal person that anyone had met, however, in California I find myself leaning more toward the moderate side of things (mostly on fiscal matters, and this has more to do with seeing how much money comes out of my check than anything). But whatever. I have a harder time working myself up into a liberal fury over things than most of my fellow Californians. Mostly it's because I'm a selfish bitch. I am the Addison Shepherd to California's collective Meredith Grey. I'll admit that, and I relish in it (seriously, who doesn't want, at least deep down to be Addison?). And it's also because I love several things more than I probably should, these of course being pork products, shoes with heels, throwing stuff away (this is probably my biggest vice--I actually get a thrill out of throwing away things) and clothing not made out of hemp.

But California is slowly worming its way into my heart despite my best efforts. Not enough of course to change my diet (seriously, have we ever discussed my love for all manner of pig products?) or switch to organic beauty products or change my gas consumption habits (mostly because I can't afford a new car). Perhaps that's why I find these reusable lunch containers so damn cute:

Isn't that the cutest thing? It's a lunch...clutch! I heart it. It's $16.95, which is a small price to pay when you consider how much money you'd save not buying lunch every day, which I do, and then regret. What better way to save the world and your money than by refusing to bring a dowdy lunch bag? Here's the link for it so you can buy one for yourself. And the best part? You carry it, and it doesn't say "I brought my lunch. Wanna share a lentil?" This bag says, "I brought my lunch, bitch. And it's better than yours. Now, get your malnourished hands off my husband. Learn to use a makeup brush, Squinty McGee." See? Instant Addison.

And no enviro friendly Californian is worth her compost without a great bag to take to the farmer's market on Saturday morning. That's why I'm totally dumping my Trader Joe's canvas for one of these beauties which comes from a company called "Envirosax." Never really thought I'd buy something from a company whose name sounds so crunchy-porn like, but well, here it is. Here's the link for that one too. You know what this bag says? It says, "I write a third rate fashion blog, and I'm cuter than you. Now give me my rhubarb." It's also made of hemp, which I worked hard not to use against it. Actually, I would even be fine toting this bag around with my kids to the park or the beach. It's cute enough for that. And the best part? It's only $6.50.

So see--it is possible to be fabulous while being a friend to the environment. As with everything, though, moderation is the key. Being "green" is really in right now, but you know what's always in? Having fun and not freaking out about crap you can't control. Live your life. You're hotter that way. And for God's sake, if you're going to eat a cookie, don't eat the vegan one. I mean that literally and metaphorically.

All About My Mother

It's a little early for a Mother's Day post, but I'm a-gonna do it anyway. Why? Because I'm a rule breaker. And also because my mom is a professor, and with the end of term, she's had lots of students tell her how she's influenced their lives, and helped them learn accounting (obviously, she teaches accounting, which totally doesn't jive if you know me and how sort of loopy that I am). So, because this is a fashion blog, I'm going to recount how she's influenced my life with fashion. It's all because she's awesome and rocks the house, but also because I keep hearing ads on the radio about sending your mom flowers for Mother's Day, and well, what's better than flowers? Being posted about in a third-rate blog that no one will ever read! Totally! It's the gift that keeps on giving!

So without further adieu, I give you:

My Mom Made Me Into A Fashionista, Despite Rocking the Acid Wash More than A Few Times

The first memory I have of my mother fashion-wise, is of the smell of perm-juice. Hey, it was the 80's--everyone had a perm, and my mom was no exception. Her hair was so big that it had its own force field. But she was a single mom, and a hot one at that. She had this black and white striped button front shirt that was all kind of blousy, and she would tuck it into a pair of pleated khaki pants and snap a red braided belt over the top. I loved that belt--if I think about it, I can still remember how totally awesome the 2 lbs of braided polyester felt in my hand, and how I wanted to wear it over my own jean/tunic ensemble that I imagined I would wear when I finally got to meet the cast of the Cosby Show. Mom was HOT, and with this very outfit probably spawned the love affair I have with black, white and red now. That and my obsession with bad 80's music and the song Disco Duck. Yeah. Blaming all that on her.

My mom rocked my own style because she let me do whatever I wanted fashion-wise. When I went through a phase of matching everything to my days of the week hair ribbons which she had expertly woven through my hair, she was there with outfits that matched down to the socks. When I decided to wear Mary Janes and a magenta hat with a purple flower EVERYDAY, thus making myself look like the love child of Baby Jane and The Golden Girl's Blanche DuBois, she was right there to say that I looked lovely.

This continued through mid calf length overalls that I thought were SUPER FLATTERING, through huge sweatshirts with varied color turtlenecks, and into the period when I fancied myself some sort of grunge goddess. That's when it ended. I remember her taking me aside one day, and saying exactly this: "You are currently wearing a red polyester shirt, a pair of khaki colored pants that are huge, orange socks, and your fingernails are painted green. You. Are. A....mess. You need to get it together." The look in her eye ate through my veneer of touch chick rebellion, and I endeavored to get it together. Well, sort of. If you call a profusion of black turtlenecks and JNCO jeans "together", and well, I do, because this blog is entitled "The Cult of the Black Sweater" so obviously I'm still all about the turtlenecks.

But the number one reason that my mom is awesome? She doesn't wear Mom jeans. I think she did for a short period during the early 90's, and also (regrettably) rocked the evil, mulletted brother of the mom jeans: the mom shorts, which I believe she got on sale at Goody's and wore with a sherbet colored striped polo. But besides that short, dark period in all our lives, Mom sports mid-rise normal pants. And it was so nice to be able to visit colleges, and not have the tour guide gaze sadly at my mom's gut before deciding that I would never be cool enough to attend that school.

So thanks Mom, for not wearing Mom jeans, and for being awesome. Thanks for giving me a great sense of style, and backing me up through the newsboy hats and the ball gown skirts and the bike shorts. And Mom, just know that anytime I do anything bad, I can still hear your angry voice, calling out from the bathroom where you were layering on your 47th layer of Opium lotion, saying:

"You'll deal with it, or we'll start getting all of your clothes from the J.C. Penney catalog!"

And I of course deal with it, because, to this day, I'm scared to my very core of that prospect.

Reasons to Hate Teenagers

Those of you who know me know that I spend a lot of my time with teenagers. I'm an SAT tutor, so I'm constantly inundated with teenage stress, teenage angst and teenage love. And to tell you the truth, I get along well with teenagers. They seem to like me, they laugh at my jokes, and I understand (perhaps more than their tyrannical parents) how hard it can be to have the whole of your life stretching in front of you, waiting on you to begin.


The one thing I have against teenagers, however, is the way they dress. In my opinion, a lot of teenagers don't understand just how blessed they are. As a teenager, you are at the time of your life where everything is exactly where it should be, and things are clean because your mother wills it so: you haven't yet eaten yourself through freshman year, you haven't yet been forced to forego washing your hair or clothes for a day or three in order to better understand the works of John Milton. As a teenager, it is your duty to dress in a way that celebrates your body, because, well, bitches, it ain't gonna be that way for long. Velour sweatsuits just don't cut it when you look lovely with little to no effort. And no, that doesn't mean I advocate forced mini-skirts for every girl (although, if I was instantly granted the body I had when I was about 14, I would wear nothing but a bathing suit for the rest of my life). There is a tasteful way to show things off.


And my young little nubile ladies, it's name is Abercrombie and Fitch:

See these guys? They want you to pony up the $40 for the Abercrombie logo-ed sweatshirt. And you should. Because when you get to be my age, you're going to want to go to Abercrombie so bad that it freaking hurts, but you won't be able to because you're old, chubby, and your ears smart at the loud music they play. You'll be scared of the manicured, bronzed employees with their artfully torn jeans and gelled hair. But when you're a teenager, you don't have to be scared. You're their bread and butter--you can step into the softcore porn covered walls and smile at the employees and they will help you and not give you the stink eye because you're a size 10, and thus, the fattest thing in the world.

My love of Abercrombie reaches back into my own teenagerdom when I forced my mother to drive me three hours to the West Town Mall in Knoxville, TN to do my back to school shopping because no other mall had my special store. There I would spend child support check after child support check, all on things that had the word "Abercrombie" tatooed over my chest. My mother hated the catalogs and the pornish pictures, but she would stand back and let me spend the money anyway, comforting herself with a Cinnabon and Origins face cream. I remember her buying me a pair of the jeans for Christmas, and how I wore them to various high school sporting events, and felt they were my "lucky jeans" for reasons that went beyond high school sports.

And that is probably why I want this little $60 shirt so freaking much.

And I can't buy it. Because I'm not 16 any more. I'm an old fattie. Sigh.

Damn teenagers. I hope you all get 400's on the SAT.