Archive for September 2010

No Pants Sighting of the Day

September 27, 2010

Location: Harvard Square

Offense: I don’t even know where to begin. Since my thoughts are coming to me in rapid-fire succession, you’re going to receive them in similar random fashion:

  1. Why did you break into a middle school cheerleader’s locker and steal her gym shorts?
  2. The funny thing about the phrase “junk in the trunk” is that we don’t normally SEE the contents of said trunk.
  3. If it’s warm enough to wear your train wreck of an outfit, why do you need socks with your flip flops?
  4. What the hell is that guy thinking right now?
  5. If your purse, the item you carry on your SHOULDER, hits below the length of your shorts, then you’re a hop skip and a jump away from being naked.
  6. Victoria doesn’t even have a secret anymore…cat is OUT of the bag on that one. And it’s not even wearing kitten mittens…so it’s loud as hell.
  7. Does that shopping bag contain pants? Because I’m begging you, for the love of sweet 8 pound, 6 ounce baby Jesus, put them on.
  8. You’re in Harvard Square. The center of the education universe. Most likely, every third person you see will be a professor or student. Grab one of them and have him/her teach you what wearing pants feels like. They have credentials.
  9. I will never look at cottage cheese the same way again.
  10. How do you not have severe chafing issues right now?!?!

Verdict: I’m still practically in shock from this epic no pants incident, but I will pull myself together, and will go home and give my pants a hug tonight. Because they never abandoned me like that.

Photo courtesy of Rachel O., my newest no pants spy. This is so genius I was literally speechless for approximately 3 minutes and 27 seconds. Then I resumed speech, but it came out more as gasps.


Today’s Forecast: 65 and Chance of Slutty

September 27, 2010

Attaching the prefix “mini” to words often makes them cuter. For example: mini-golf (aww a windmill that’s 3 feet tall!), mini-bar (tiny bottles of alcohol are ADORABLE), and mini-series (a long movie cut into bite-size pieces, perfect for my waning attention span). But there are some things that shouldn’t be miniaturized. Some things are not made cuter when they are made mini. Case in point: skirts and dresses.

Here’s the question I’ve been pondering all week: “When is a mini too mini?” What are the criteria for measuring when mini exits its cute status and enters contentious affair standing? At what point does mini translate to slutty instead of adorable? Well, in an attempt to both educate and clarify, here is my proposed list of measurement techniques:

1. Calculate the distance (in inches) between the end of your ass (we’ll label this “x”) and where your skirt or dress ends (“y”). If y-x<6, your outfit = too mini, and you = slutty.

2. Sit down somewhere. If the amount of fabric between your ass and the object on which you are sitting is reduced to zero, then way too mini. And holy uncomfortable Batman.

3. Measure the amount of skin on your legs that is exposed (“x”), and compare it to the amount of skin that your skirt or dress is covering (“y”). If x>y by more than 3/4 of the total length of your legs, too mini. And let’s hope you shaved your legs in preparation for all that exposure.

4. Grab a friend. One you trust. This exercise is best executed when that friend is a girl. Drop something, and allow your friend to observe what happens when you bend down to pick the aforementioned object up. If your friend is exposed to anything hiding under that skirt or dress more than 1% of the time, then too mini. Go promptly buy your friend a drink because that’s a true friend right there.

5. Buy a pair of tights with control top. If you’re a girl, you know what a control top is. Put said control top tights on your legs. Then put on your skirt or dress. If any portion of the control top is visible beneath your skirt or dress, then your outfit is too mini. That’s the equivalent of your bra strap or thong T-bar showing…just tacky.

If you’re thinking, “Wow, these criteria are too complicated for me to remember and there’s so much math involved”, don’t fret. I will sum this all up in quick, easy fashion for you: If you feel naked when you are in fact wearing clothes, the clothes you are wearing are too mini. It really is that simple. Clothes are meant to cover you and prevent you from over-exposing yourself. Don’t confuse people by wearing half-clothes. Trust me, a few extra inches of skirt = a crapload more class.

Allow me to exhibit some young ladies who clearly need to be following my rules…

There's always an element of danger when you wear white. She chose a black bra (fail) and sat in something red (double fail). The biggest fail of all? It was after Labor Day.

Photo courtesy of Becca and Mom Kerr! What puts it over the edge for me is the boots. It's summer on the top and winter on the bottom. Make up your freaking mind.

Her boyfriend totally caught me taking this picture. Whatever dude, I totally caught your girlfriend not wearing pants. So we're even.

Gaga’s Meat Dress: It’s What’s for Dinner

September 14, 2010

In elementary school science class, we learned about renewable vs. nonrenewable resources. Oil vs. solar power vs. coal vs. wind…you remember this, right? Well there was one nonrenewable resource that no one ever taught me about in science…fabric.

For centuries, clothing has been constructed from fabric. If you’ve ever watched Project Runway and seen the hopeful contestants shop at Mood, you’d understand how exciting and captivating fabric is to designers. Cotton, silk, satin, denim–decades have been defined by certain types of fabric and despite good and bad trends in fashion, the fabric choices have remained the same. But apparently, without my realizing, there is a shortage on fabric resources. Fabric is an endangered species and rationing is essential to keeping fabric around.

Last night’s MTV VMAs proved that our fabric resources are on the decline. Not only does that graph have a negative slope, the situation is apparently DIRE. Instead of taffeta, we got slabs of beef. Instead of twill, we got fish netting. Instead of chiffon, we got a bedazzled Hefty bag. What we saw was an awards show thrown together by McGuyver.

So what was up with all that meat? Did that outfit happen after Lady Gaga was asked how she’d like her hamburger cooked? Raw, please. Well, according to Gaga, “Well, it’s certainly no disrespect to anyone that’s vegan or vegetarian….I, as you know, am the most judgment-free human being on Earth. However, it has many interpretations — but for me this evening it’s that if we don’t stand up for what we believe in, if we don’t fight for our rights, pretty soon we’re gonna have as much rights as the meat on our bones.” And in response to her recent cover of Japanese Hommes Vogue in a meat bikini, Gaga said, “I am NOT a piece of meat.” Really? Because that wasn’t exactly the vibe you were putting out there…

Cher wore vintage no-pants with a fishnet bikini get-up (If I could turn back time, I’d ask her not to wear that anymore), while Ke$ha proved she’s just as trashy as everyone says by wearing a trash bag dress and some nasty rope hair that she probably stole from Rapunzel. Granted, these pantsless fashion choices were not the only cringe-worthy moments of the VMAs; host Chelsea Handler completely bombed and even her attempts at shock-humor with jokes about black people and herpes weren’t enough to save that sinking ship. I did chuckle at one (I repeat, just one) comment of hers, after she announced she had watched all the nominated videos in preparation for the show:

“One thing I learned is that Lady Gaga and Beyonce don’t like wearing pants. Enough with the adult onesies ladies…you look leo-tarded.”

Thanks Chelsea! It didn’t redeem your comments about not getting body searched for weapons since you were white…but I appreciated the sentiment. (Congrats Chelsea, you just got your first good review!)

Look, I appreciate a flair for the creative and nothing that Gaga wears should really shock me anymore, but come on now folks, fabric is the foundation of all clothing. Fabric is the essence of pants. It is the heart and SOUL of pants and should be treasured. Handled with care, if you will. Hand-washed and dried flat. Otherwise before we know it, fabric will become extinct and we’ll be wearing household appliances for clothes. And do I really want measuring cups covering my boobs? Hmmm nope, I’ll stick with a T-shirt, thank you very much.

PETA was outraged. There are rumors that the dress was infested with maggots. Attractive. Really.

Inspired by Ke$ha, I'm going to attend my next party in a collection of Ziploc baggies trimmed in Reynold's Wrap and lined with paper towels.

WANTED for Egregious No Pants

September 10, 2010

Since starting this blog, I’ve seen copious instances of tights as pants, shirts as pants, inappropriate usage of leggings…the list goes on. A frequently-utilized comment was, “I can practically see your ass…wear pants.” Now see, the aforementioned comment is somewhat an expression of slight hyperbole, because I never actually saw anyone’s ass…

Until now.

Let me set the scene for you. I’m sitting at an outdoor table at Boston Beer Works with my Boston crew, on a lovely summer evening by the TD Garden. The big UFC fight was happening at the Garden that night (shocking that I wasn’t aware), and that certainly attracted a certain…crowd. The uniform was apparently a green T-shirt adorned with shamrocks and the phrase, “I love fighting like a fat kid loves cake” (throwback, way back, to early 50 Cent what what). We saw enough Ed Hardy gear to stock a medium-sized retail store, and enough hair product to keep Pauly D.’s coiffe stylin’ for at least a year. I wasn’t sure if there was more meat on our plates or walking around us.

All of a sudden, I heard the familiar chants all around the table of “no pants!” and my attention zeroed right in on a horrific site. Shock and awe spread throughout the table. Becca exclaimed, “I can see her ass! She has a bruise on her ass!” Meredith uttered, “Kelly where’s your camera?!” I pondered, “Was she wearing underwear?”

Now luckily we all had alcoholic beverages to consume, otherwise this experience would have been far more traumatizing and potentially emotionally scarring. But we all came out of it unscathed, and I just hoped that at some point, her friends were kind enough to notice her exposed ass and pull her dress down. What are the takeaways from this egregious display of no pants? First, if you are getting the feeling that breeze is hitting bare skin, your ass is likely hanging out. Second, your purse can be a convenient storage facility for your personal effects, but it can have a nasty side–keep an eye on the “ride up” factor that a purse can provoke. Last, if you only have an inch of breathing room between the end of your dress and your exposed ass, it might be (read: please do it now) time to throw that dress away.

I realize this is an “artist’s rendering” of the events of that evening, but it’s still shocking nevertheless. And I’m really not exaggerating…my dinner companions can vouch for that.

I know I said there's a $10,000 reward, but I don't have $10,000. What I CAN offer you is a handful of Sacajawea coins, a coupon for $1 off individually-wrapped pork chops, and a high five.

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