Oh come all ye faithful, back to the blogosphere and my nonsensical rants and raves about political happenings, economic going-ons and philosophical ideologies. (Just kidding, I would never subject you to something so cruel and reasonable.) Oh haven't you missed me??! Well have I got a goodie for you today. As we lament the passing of Christmas and the gaining of a third love handle, we can all join together in the celebration of the coming New Years Eve and the festive hoopla that it will bring. We can also turn our drooling mouths away from the dead bird now nestled comfortably in countless Ziploc containers in the fridge towards the N.Y.E.-appropriate work of Chloe Sevigny for Opening Ceremony. Yes, leather is less tasty to the taste buds than a juicy bird fresh out of the oven, but can a turkey be all frilly and eyelet-cut and pair perfectly with any party plans you may have like these masterpieces? Can you wear a turkey?? No you cannot. So choose wisely my friends, and feast on these!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
But how do you arm yourself against the offendingly bright L.E.D. lights and the disturbing troops of carolers dressed up as robotic pilgrims plastered with creepy smiles and singing songs that are so annoyingly well-harmonized you want to stuff a fruitcake down their esophaguses?
Dress somewhat along the lines of this:
Component 1: A massive, lama-inspired sweater that also doubles as a coat, a.k.a. perfect for outdoor to in-store transitioning and for hiding one's face from recognition.
And that's all folks! However, if hysteric holiday shoppers scare the bejeebies out of you, stay home like me, eat chocolate and clementines,wash it down with wine and whiskey until you make yourself sick, then repeat.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
I don't know how many kitties were harmed in the making of this Fall/Winter 2011 collection, neither can I justifiably pretend to care (I do wear a shit ton of fur, people), but I think it's safe to say that Riccardo Tisci of Givenchy is a cat person. I, on the other hand, have been quite open in the past about my aversion to cats, however the annoying charm and mild obesity of my roommate's cat has turned me soft while simultaneously and conveniently eliminating my allergy to the species. PROOF! And this may or may not be at all the reason why I break out into a sonnet of purring whenever I see the feline-infused collection from this season. Mreowwwww!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Now before I continue to cruelly mislead you into expecting the following post to feature explicit photos of the male genitalia, I will clarify. Alexander Wang came to visit me last night, in a cardboard box all the way from France. Not some greasy Japanese gigolo, oh no no, who do you think I am?? Shame on you for giving into the persuasiveness of catchy titles and questioning my moral and sexual stability! And yes I had to pay for him, but he's going to service me for years to come and he will never leave me in the morning without saying goodbye! Plus I found him on eBay, not the street corner, although I will definitely wear these on the street corner, because they are so downtown meets uptown oooohh-la-la chic yet masculine-influenced enough to ensure that no sexually-starved middle-aged men mistake me for a prosti-tot (because, let's be serious, I look like a toddler who just had an unexpected growth spurt).
I also picked up this mohair cardigan from the vintage section of Urban Outfitters, just to really ensure that I will never be asked how much I charge, and instead will actually actively neutralize any possible male attraction targeted at me. Because, you know, every man wants to get with the human version of a mountain goat.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The following is a visual recount of a fashion show/exhibition that I organized as a member of the wardrobe team for one of my fashion marketing classes this semester. (Note: these photos were taken at the rehearsal, not the real show.) Three interminably long and relentlessly tiring months for 18.5 minutes of 24 skinny girls walking down a runway in fabulous clothing that I could never fathom wearing since the aforementioned course and the school to which it belongs gorge on my laughable savings and weekly wages and that I could neither steal nor plunder since my parents instilled in me the handicapping burden of morality as an impressionable youth.
But regardless of my moral and financial dilemmas, Grotto, The Moving Fashion Event was a resounding success thanks to to caffeine benders and the heroism of brands like Aldo, Artikol, Mackage, Ovate, Michael Kors, Norwegian Wood, Andrew Floyd, etcetera, etcetera. And if that doesn't get you all hot, heavy and seriously bothered, we had a revolving stage (hence the "moving fashion event" part. Get it??? GET IT???).
On a less boastful note, if you are currently exam-ing it up, like me, there will be more posts in the coming days strategically designed to distract you from the excruciating pain and unjustifiable suffering that comes along with it. Think of it as my culturally-non-exclusionary pre-holiday gift to you. Happy ChrismaKwanzaaKkah.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
I'm already feeling boredom overcoming the half-shaved hair-style currently inhabiting the top of my head. But then I came across this pic with its fantasmic/orgasmic duality and utterly raw sensibility. Jaw.....on the floor.
Should I show it to my adorable new french hairstylist? Oui? Non? Comme çi, comme ça. Oh la la. Pamplemousse. Regardez l'ananas.
I think yes.