hannah, eric, and the children are at the ripley's museum in myrtle beach. really, we could just end the post right there.
but we won't. and, due to her absence and obvious dark fall into insanity, you've got me. who loves you, baby...
so, it's so odd, really, that the boyfriend and i just had the conversation about women's fashion and the male interpretation of it. this, spawned by my brand-spanking-new gladiator sandals.
i come home from work and he's craig-listing VINTAGE VESPAS. okay, yes: maybe in milan or siena these will do. but, my ex-football player/wrestler on a VINTAGE VESPA.
anyway, he says, "we could have matching ones. we could joust." then, without skipping a beat, he motions to my feet. "you've already got the shoes."
so, it has been brought to my attention that men do not like/don't understand:
*the capri pant (hey. i don't blame you on this one.)
*skinny jeans
*the loops in the shoulders of our dresses/blouses that keeps them on hangers. "no," i said to the boyfriend, "they're not supposed to CONNECT TO THE BRA."
anyway, long story even more long-winded, we meet at a swanky restaurant downtown for brunch this morning. i am wearing a black wrap dress and espadrilles. he, in all of his charm, is at the foot of the staircase in khaki shorts (the ones with SO MANY POCKETS), new balances, and a worn blue t-shirt that says "BUILT FORD TOUGH."
i shit you not. now, aside from initial mortification, this only makes me like him more. when i hissed, "jesus christ. this is a nice restaurant," he said, "not all the time."
not all the time? what the hell does that mean? keep in mind, he's the sous chef at an equally swanky restaurant. it's not like he doesn't know.
anyway, i've been fending off this sex and the city premiere stuff for three days. and i'm tired. and weak. so i'm going. it's going to be awful. I KNOW THIS. and what's worse, i'm going to be sober. no female-pack-of-trendy-wolves, even, could make me drink a cosmo.
oh yeah. a question for the boys: what else do you dislike in women's fashion? i'm just curious.
p.s. george bush spoke at the local college's commencement yesterday. thankfully, there were protests galore and many professors stood in protest. he said--GET THIS--he thinks america should work to build A CULTURE OF RESPONSIBILITY. george-i-level-entire-peoples-and-still-don't-understand-what-all-the-hoop-la's-about-bush. that's rich.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
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13 comments:
empire-waist tops or dresses!!! dudes hate those.
Ugly shoes, spandex, and jewelry that is obviously fake. That is all I can muster with the sleep I have had lately. Hope all is well in your neck of the woods.
this was actually in cosmo this month.
hahah
i think some of them were like, slouch boots, flannel pajamas, leggings...skinny jeans were on there, too.
oops, that was me.
1. han and erock ate at planet hollywood.
2. empire waist, gentlemen, is the babydoll look. hence baby. you don't want to look THAT committed.
jesus, tori. we commented at the same time.
also, if there's one thing i should teach you:
DO NOT READ COSMO.
1. the baby thing makes women look clownish. clowns are scary.
2. the baby thing makes women look like their waists are up to their arm pits. not attractive.
4. everyone should wear jeans and a t-shirt. shorts and a t-shirt when it's hot. multiple t-shirts, jeans and a jacket when it's cold. fashion problem solved. and/or whatever is comfortable on a bicycle. next?
3. eating at planet hollywood does not embarrass me. i will never go back and i found it amusing, but i'm not embarrassed. hannah, on the other hand...
4. that's sad mamie. stealing topics from cosmo. just sad.
eric, when i get to hell, all that will be there is you.
i've never read cosmo. seriously.
now. back to my new maxim...
That's so funny that you think boys don't like/understand skinny jeans since that is practically all the hipster boys seem to wear... But perhaps not in the south. :) Or, rather: definitely not in the south.
the babydoll look? does that mean it's the dresses that look like someone ripped down their shitty curtains, stitched a hem roughly shoulder-high, and then splashed some pastel cover-up? because, yeah, i don't like that one, either.
and super-jangly bracelets that sound like tinny versions of the jingle bell chorus, so that, anytime they make drastic gestures, i feel all decemberish, nauseated, and worn down.
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