Oh Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy!

I went to the mailroom today to be greeted by a lovely pink slip. No, I'm not fired from college, I received a package!

"Lovely!" I exclaimed, jumping up and down, "I bet this is my Vogue."

So I went to the desk, still trembling with excitement, and presented my pink Golden Ticket to joy. However, what I received was not, in fact, my Vogue, which I've been dying to tear to pieces (that sexy, sexy rag) and plaster all over my wall. It was a small bubbly package from an unknown sender.

"This is not goddam Vogue! My good golly gosh, whatever can this be?" My first inkling was anthrax, but I decided to risk it.

Once I got back to a place with a pair of scissors (aka The Fashion Batcave), I opened it up.

Lo and behold! A book!

"Why are you bothering to tell me this?" you ask.

Because it's How to be a Budget Fashionista by THE Budget Fashionista (Kathryn Finney). A while back, she posted an offer on her site to send fellow bloggers a copy of her book in exchange for a review.

AND SHE AUTOGRAPHED IT! LIKE, WROTE MY NAME AND HERS! HERSELF! OH MY GOD!

I feel so honored that a famous blogger wrote my name, that of an obscure, upstart blogger. If my insane excitement isn't dorky, I don't know what is.

I already started reading it, and the first few pages are as witty as I had dreamed. Expect a fantastic review sometime in the nearish future.

Letters to Olga Sherer

bcbg max azria summer 2008

Dear Olga,
I wasn't aware of your recent death. My condolences to you, your friends, your family, your agency, and your agent. There is now "an icebox where my heart used to be" on your account, to quote Gym Class Heroes, who I really wish would just go away. I commend you, however, on still showing up and showing out at the BCBG Max Azria Summer 2008 show (love the dress you're wearing, might I add). Seriously, death becomes you, doll. The protruding sternum and ribs, the general malaze apparent in your expression, the limp hair. And I never knew embalming fluids are so good for the skin! You've opened up my eyes, Olga, darling. No more life-sustaining sandwiches for me, no, ma'am. And I shall get my humongous size 6 ass to the gym right away.

Love,
Vanessa xoxoxoxo

Workin' the Streets Chic

I use the word "chic" too often, but I digress.

via spiga (piperlime.com): $350

I feel like I should think these boots are whore-iffic (haha!). I generally get that impression at first from a lot of black, high-heeled boots. But I love the patent accents and buttons. I want these boots, but unfortunately girls who aren't catwalk skinny have a hard time finding awesome boots that will actually go up their calves. Whoever is in charge of enforcing the universal standard of skinny calves in the footwear world needs to meet an untimely end.

Oh, glamorous Via Spiga Classy Ho Boots, it's not your fault. I love you. Even if I can never have you. Maybe in another time, another place, we could have been. For now, I will simply admire you from afar until society will accept us as a couple.

Banana Republic and My Model Crush

I have nothing against Banana Republic, but I've never done much shopping there. Sometimes I actually remember I'm living in the real world of the average college student, which means I try to be relatively cheap when it comes to new clothes. Today, however, my boyfriend and I got back from lunch and decided we ought to try and find him new dress shirts and such. My philosophy being that it's a good idea to look at everything rather than just apparel in your price range, we turned to bananarepublic.com.

That's when I discovered one of the new loves of my life.

I have no idea who this model is, but I hope he knows in his heart that I love him more than many other things in this world.

You should look at the large version of this picture, because I couldn't copy that one, which is so much better. Is it kind've bad if I think they maybe dressed this dude a little like a lawn jockey?

I want him to have a music video. I think this is the part where the song gets all inspirational and he's an angel of some sort. Just add wings and we're good to go.

Seriously, how many guys can rock a Grandpa sweater?

Someday, when I'm a professional fashion addic-- I mean, columnist, I'm going to interview this man so he can share with the world the secrets to being the only fun, non-douchebag-looking male model for Banana Republic.

He's also the only black model on the entire site. Big surprise.

PSA

I think that everyone should be allowed to dress in a way that gives one personal satisfaction... within reason. I have a vendetta against Crocs. No one could look decent in Crocs. Johnny Depp would become only mildly attractive in Crocs. I'm angry at how Crocs have decided that they have the right to invade the realm of high heels and actual apparel, but that's not what I want to talk about.

I work at the restaurant of a yacht club. Classy, I know. I fetch your rolls with a fetching smile and the perfect amount of perk. "Thaaaanks!" I say, with way too many "a"s and cheer in response to a compliment. "Ya welcome," I reply to your grateful words (God help me, I'm such a Bostonian sometimes, but it's endearing). I'm probably the most adorable waitress there, or at least the one most enthusiastic about her job. I've only been waitressing for about 6 months, so I still harbor idealistic hopes for my future, unlike the haggard older waitresses who have realized that this is it. We actually have one woman who works there who is a talented singer, but her career never got off the ground.

Anyway, waitressing requires practical footwear. Not heels. You will slip and die. I wear an old pair of shoes I got for marching band, because they're good for not falling, which is an important aspect of my job. Some of the younger servers have decided that it is somehow okay to wear Crocs at work. They say they're "comfortable" and "practical" (Clinton and Stacy are dying a little inside as I type such words). They say that they're "non-slip." I'm not saying band shoes are attractive. Far from it. But they're practical without making me look brain-damaged. Our managers told us several months ago that Crocs are not allowed, as they're made of rubber, which is not impervious to sharp objects. They also have holes, which are not impervious to scalding liquids. They also have ugliness, which is not professional.

It's Thanksgiving, which means ever waiter and waitress in the place is running around frantically. Was table 54's dewars on the rocks or straight up? Did I give 67 their rolls? Good God, I have a reservation for table 48 in 5 minutes and the busboy hasn't set it yet!

The least of one's concerns should be how to stop their foot from bleeding profusely.

In a quiet moment, I am minding my own business in back when one of the Croc-roaches hops her way back there with me and sits down, followed by another waitress and our tiny manager, who tells her she'll go get the first aid kit. The girl's foot is bleeding. Apparently there was broken glass on the floor-- as there tends to be on very busy nights when people are dropping things and hurriedly cleaning them-- and it went right through her precious Croc and pierced her foot.

Am I a bad person for wanting to go up to her and say "Serves you right for wearing those hideous things that you've been told not to wear! Whore!" The "whore" would just be to drive the point home. You know, add insult to injury.

Am I a bad person if I sort've think of this as a Thanksgiving miracle?

The Moral of the Story: if you wear Crocs, you get what you deserve in the form of jagged, dirty glass creating a very uncomfortable puncture wound in the bottom of your foot.

Just in Time for Thanksgiving

Are you a Pilgrim impersonator? Want to add authenticity to your act? Boy, does Kenneth Cole have the shoe for you.


Have a dorktastic Turkey Day!

I'm Molting!

This reminds me of Saturday morning cartoon antics. You know, like when the The Road Runner or someone unzips themself only to reveal that they were not, in fact, wearing a costume.

Rock Your Fruiting Body

She's not really that dorky. We've hardly heard her say anything truly dorky and I am very disappointed in the direction this blog has taken.

Doubt thou Vanessa doth be a dork?

Let me just paint you a mental picture:

It's 8 PM on a Saturday. I am the only person left in the entire Biology building, sitting at an old, turqouise iMac doing parsimony analyses to produce phylogenetic trees for a project about fungal DNA.

"Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson comes on my mp3 player and I hop up for my stool and begin rocking out in what was-- in my head-- the best Michael Jackson impersonation ever. I am literally dancing around a Bio lab to 80s hits.

That's how I party hardcore, ya dig, son?

How to Put Some Giddy-Up in Your Step

chloe (net-a-porter.com) $750

Everytime I ever asked for a horse for Christmas, my mother always said "no." I can't imagine why, because riding to kindergarten on a stallion would've been pretty badass. I bet I would have had a lot of friends to use me for pony rides. Hell, as long as they would be willing to pay to rent my steed for birthday parties, it would be all good. But no. "A horse is too expensive," my mother would rationalize.

These shoes are a mere $750 dollars and are made with actual horseshoes. They may look like regular platforms at first, but in reality they are the pinnacle of equestrian chic. What could be more equestrian than pretty much being a human horse? Hyperbole? I think not.

Horses cost more than $750. They need to be fed. Shoes don't eat hay-- or anything else, for that mattter. Horses need stables. Shoes come with their own little home, no extra charge. Horses need to be cleaned up after. And, well, since shoes don't even eat-- well, you get the picture.

These shoes are for any other little girl who was denied her pony as a child. Now you can be a pony. Now you can live some twisted facsimile of your dream.

No thanks necessary.

Abercrombie & Fitch: Singlehandedly Destroying the Moral Fabric of America (as Well as My Hopes and Dreams)

abercrombie&fitch: $24.50

If only I agreed, Abercrombie Boy, we'd have a chance. If only I weren't holding out for my night in shining argyle.

How to Sneak a Gun into a Public Place and Not Get Caught*

bcbg max azria "tabatha" pants: $150

*This post courtesy of the legendary Covino.

Lock the Doors, Pull Down the Shades

I miss never having any time to myself, so when my roommate leaves for class or to... I don't know, do something other than pretend she doesn't have homework in our room, the first thing I do is go online. Oh, God, I'm so ashamed.... But I can't help it! It's an addiction!

You're perfect just the way you are, baby. I could oggle you for hours.

People want to judge you for being from Old Navy, but I want to rock you anyway.

Oh yeah. Look at you. Keep no secrets from me, darling. Turn around.

Gorgeous.

I would pay almost a thousand dollars to feel you on me.

Oh, my, you're see-through in just the right places.

I love the way you blush. It suits you. Oh yeah.

Is it a sin? If it is, I never want to do right.

Besides, it's never too cold for skirts in hell.

from top:

christian dior samurai bag: $3900 (at neiman marcus)

old navy outfit: example look from the site

victoria's secret crossback curvy jersey dress: $65

christian dior fall runway shoes: $990 (at eluxury.com)

bcggirls "cayla" shootie: $98 (at macys)

forever21 pleated bell sleeve coat: $49.80

Sir, No, Sir!

Okay, so here's the thing: camoflage is an excellent way for soldiers to hide from their enemies. It is also a great way for civilians to become my enemies.

I will admit that I have an actual Marine Corps hat that was given to me by a U.S. Marine. I will say I have worn it in public. But keep in mind that I have not worn it, say, with a dress. Camoflage is not formal wear. Have you ever noticed that, in the military, they have formal dress uniforms (camoflage is commonly relagated to the realm of the "battle dress uniform")? See? Those are sharp, don't you agree? Even if you don't, just take note of the fact that nothing in that picture is "woodland" or "desert" or generally splotches of protective coloring. Even the military ackowledges that there is a time to be functional and a time to be fashionable.


This is an actual boot you can find in the women's section of Macy's online. I mean, c'mon, really? Really, Tommy Hilfiger? I didn't want to shame the man who made this and I didn't want anyone to see this and go buy it, but let's just say this is made by Tommy Hilfiger and it just might be $98 more than it's worth.

This is a million horrible things in one, so much so that I'm having trouble thinking of anything to say. First of all, the long peasant skirt trend is sort've dead and is usually extremely unflattering. It ruins any chances you ever had of looking tall and lean. Then you have the shoes. She doesn't even redeem this outfit with cute shoes! Those are the ugliest, clunkiest, least imaginative flip-flops I have ever seen. And then there's the camo, which just makes

this skirt exponentially worse than it would've been if it were a solid color. Camo hides you in the jungle. It does not hide your body's flaws. Hard to believe, I know. But if you're carrying a spare tire and you decide to wrap it in camo, everyone will see. Camo draws attention to you. Because everyone likes to laugh.

I know what you're going to say: "But, Vanessa, this is obviously a Halloween costume! She's obviously dressed up as a Slutty Sargeant." Oh, reader, how I wish that were true. This is from an actual online catalog. The ad for the skirt, but that's almost the least of her problems. Though I always think a camo skirt is hilarious. They remind me of 8th grade girls who think they're going to look hardcore and jail-bait sexy at the same time. That's what I always figure they're going for. Anyway, let's talk about how she's gone for a camo top. Yes, it's a catalog that's trying to sell camo clothing and is trying to kill two birds with one stone, but let's pretend this is a real outfit. It might as well be. Camo on camo is overkill. If you're going to wear camo-- and I really wish you wouldn't-- oh my lord, please don't make it into a theme outfit. That alone makes it look very costumey, but the boots just take it to the next level of camp. I really don't know what to say about the boots. They're so wrong with this outfit. So. Wrong. I'm overwhelmed.

I was planning on having a really cute post full of cute things. But that's going to have to wait. You can't look at those cute pictures I found quite yet because you, or someone you know, or someone you went to middle school with wore camo as a fashion statement. And that garners you a Section Eight in my book.

Zebra Ho?

There once was a pop tart named Britney;

Her taste in Halloween get-ups was shitty.

Her hands were eaten by feathers,

Her skin resembled tanned leather--

At this rate, she'll never recover her kiddies!

Seriously, Britney. Part of me wishes you would pull yourself together. Sure, Pamela Anderson's kids will someday have to deal with the sex tape, but your children are going to have to come to terms with something far worse: constant public displays of tackiness. It's admittedly a bad idea to imply that Pam Anderson isn't publicly tacky, but work with me, Brit. At least, you know, it's normal for your boobs to be on display in a porn video with your husband. And, arguably, Tommy and Pammy didn't intend for anyone to see that. But this Halloween. This is you going out into public-- where you will be photographed-- knowing that you look like your boobs have seen 80 more years of life than you have. Sure, Halloween is a great excuse to be anything in the world you want to be but skankier. This is extreme. This is not okay. I'm not going to say anything about how your hair looks like you haven't showered in days and you need to touch up those roots a bit, or the fact that you're rockin' a double chin, because that's a bad photography issue. I mean, if I could be as gigantic as you are according to the media, I'd be pretty damn happy. But that's another story.

Britney, there is no such thing as a pink zebra. Is that what you're supposed to be? My God, woman, I don't even know what you're trying to be in this picture! Did the package this came out of say "Zebra Stripper Who Fell Into A Cotton Candy Machine, Got Pink Ducks Stuck to its Hooves, Had Parts of its Skin Eaten Off by Lions, and Used Mesh/Fishnets to Cover the Wounds"?

For the sake of the children, Britney. The only thing that could make this worse if you were wearing matching Crocs, but I can't prove that.

This is Your Shoe on Drugs

justsweet at macys.com, $69.99 (originally $115),

but please don't buy it.