First, Let’s Kill All The Playsuits

first let's kill all the playsuitsShakespeare never saw this playsuit, so he aimed his wrath at lawyers. His loss.

Today’s poets could find inspiration in this denim playsuit by Faith Connexion. What a force of nature, or maybe cynicism, is this contraption! The long plaid thing is attached, not merely an afterthought. Nothing could be more chic.

first let's kill the playsuitsSee how it drags behind you like the train of a wedding gown! Or is it a peacock tail? Notice the versatility: You can tie the sleeves around your wait or just let them hang helplessly at your side.

And when you make your exit, all eyes will be glued to the plaid thing, regal yet casual, like the grunge queen you are.

first let's kill the playsuitsDon’t just take my word for it, here’s the editor:

This blue denim playsuit from Faith Connexion is elevated from youthful staple into edgy statement with a floor-skimming black and white plaid shirt attached to the waist. The long sleeves anchor the impact while a small pointed collar keeps it sharp.

At just $1,755 plus shipping, it is selling out fast.

If you don’t love this, I want to know why. Leave your complaints in the form of a sonnet.

Posted in Fashion, Words | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

The Dumbass Jr. Doesn’t Fall Far From The Dumbass Tree

Dumbass Trump Jr.

How exciting is it that Don Jr.’s wife Vanessa has filed for divorce??

I love it.

First, we learned that he treated Vanessa “like a second-class citizen,” keeping her on a restrictive budget. Now we learn that Junior had an affair with a contestant from The Celebrity Apprentice!

While Vanessa was pregnant with their third child, Don Jr. broke the news that he was leaving her for Aubrey O’Day, some bimbo that I don’t want to have to Google because that’s how excited I am.

I love how these Trump men can’t tell TV from reality, and I super-love how they run amok when their wives get pregnant.

According to Page Six (which has proven to be on the money where celebrity dirt is concerned) Donald Sr.  learned about Jr.’s romance and told him to knock it off. Like the brainless pipsqueak he is, Jr. obeyed. And on election night 2016, Aubrey tweeted ruefully that the story she never told was “now worth millions.”

Who should we feel sorry for? Vanessa? But why would she marry a Trump? Back in the day, she is reported to have been a real slut, I mean “gangsta.” She must have thought the name Trump was a step up. Maybe her modeling career was stalled. I don’t want to feel sorry for her, do you? She’ll get a great book deal, if she can break her prenup.

Let’s not feel sorry for this Aubrey person. Not with that hair.

Don Jr. was famously slapped around by his dad, even as a college student, so maybe he deserves some compassion. But wait, he killed all those beautiful tigers, so no. Fuck him.

Why can’t the Trump men sleep with their pregnant wives? Is that too personal a question? I guess they find pregnant women disgusting. That is truly the pot calling the kettle disgusting, isn’t it?

Don Jr. is a real piece of work. His idiotic tweets sound like fun, especially when he flirts with models by talking about bacon.

He meant “Chanel.”

Remember when people thought Don Jr. was a great spokesperson for his dad, during the campaign? Was everyone hypnotized? He is the second dumbest person in the world.

How soon can Ivanka’s marriage blow up? Hurry it up, Ivanka! I am locked and loaded.

Posted in Celebrities, News | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Tummy Control

Christian Krohg, 1831

Yesterday I bought a pair of Levi’s with tummy control. It was a milestone. And a defeat.

You know all those commercials about “belly fat?” And maybe you say to yourself, Ew, what a slob, I wouldn’t let that happen to me!

But after a certain age, your tummy appears out of nowhere. You used to worry about your thighs or something, but you never gave a thought to your tummy. When you look down and realize you’re on your way to becoming a sumo wrestler, it’s too late.

So now I still wear the same size but it isn’t the same. I hate it. I can’t wear a fitted t shirt or everyone will know. At home, I can sit on the couch and mourn the rolls of flab, resigned to the fact that they aren’t going anywhere. I perk up at the new ads about Cool Sculpting, a procedure that promises to freeze and evaporate your tummy fat.  If only! I think it would be worth a few thousand to have a  flat stomach again.

And yet, how could you do that, knowing there are starving refugees living in tents without anything? Your flat stomach would be a sin against humanity. So instead of sinning against humanity, I went to try on the new Levi’s.

Sure enough, they hold your tummy in, with an extra layer of something. They look just like regular skinny jeans. Whereas those Not Your Daughter’s jeans are cut for elephants and are super unflattering. I bought the new Levi’s, even though I was horrified that they cost $98. Ninety-eight dollars may be a transgression verging on sin, especially given the stacks of jeans in my closet.

Later at home, I tried on my new jeans. I noticed that they smelled funny. Not funny, but awful. An awful chemical smell that I couldn’t quite identify. So I took off the tags and hand-washed them in cold water. Then I rinsed them with Downy. Then I put them in a warm dryer. When I took them out, they still smelled awful.

I asked my husband to smell them, even though he hates being ordered to smell things. He thought he smelled cleaning fluid.

I’m going to exchange the jeans, unless all the tummy-control Levi’s smell like cleaning fluid, as a punishment for my vanity. Maybe I am double cursed with a tummy roll AND a heightened sensitivity to smell. (see hyperosmia.) But what’s a person supposed to do? Just go around like that and embrace the aging process?

I reject the aging process. I would rather cut off my head than have grey hair. I don’t want to get flappy arms. I don’t want to deal with it at all.

Have you seen Elon Musk’s mother in her new ads for Cover Girl? She’s got the white crew-cut and the dark lipstick, and she smugly declares in her murderous South African accent:

They say at a certain age, you just stop caring. I wonder what age that is.

Complaining about Maye Musk to my sister, who hadn’t seen the ads, I showed her some pictures on my phone and noted that she’s 69 years old. My sister exclaimed, “Is that all? She looks much older!”

I felt a bit better about my tummy fat. I guess as long as I have Elon’s mother, I can carry on. But I still want the jeans.

Posted in Fashion, Horrible Stuff | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Not Just Awful But Stupid Too

Let’s say you’re going out and you put on a long coat. You know how you always wish that somehow people could see through it? Even if it was just a window to show your waist and hips? This denim coat by Bless is the answer!!! A vinyl section all around the middle will make you glad you skipped breakfast and lunch. $1,050 and available only in size small.

For warmer weather, how about some shorts?

Why wear regular denim cut-offs when for just a bit more money, you can get a pair of shorts that have been chewed by teething babies in Sri Lanka? All your friends will think you’ve had these for years and years, and they will fucking love you for it.  $365 by R13.

Boots are really In now, especially high ones.

Don’t laugh.

These Balmain boots cost $2,950 even if they look like something you would turn down for $20 at Prostitutes ‘R Us. They have all the bells and whistles, including the sexy and practical open-toe. Pleeeeeeeeease get them, somebody.

How great would it be to wear the boots with this skirt???

Why choose between denim and leather when you can have both? Alexander Wang is so desperate, I mean inventive, that he’s created a hybrid for just $995. Size large and X-large are sold out,  because who could rock this better than a full figured gal?

I know you’d rather have an Oscars Exegesis but I don’t want to think about it tonight. I will get to it, and the key word will be *intersectional*.

There is no joy like the joy of awful denim, so let me joy in peace, alright?

 

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

Juggling Netflix

How many Netflix series can you watch concurrently without losing your mind? Right now, I’m watching a bunch of them, and it’s impossible to keep the story-lines straight.

It doesn’t help when an actor from one series pops up in another. It’s like the shows are leaking into each other, and not in a good way.

I’m trying to follow Imposters, Seven Seconds, and Shut Eye, as well as Homeland and The Chi, on Showtime. I’m not intentionally looking for violence, but I spend a certain amount of time every night whining, “I’M COVERING MY EYES! TELL ME WHEN IT’S OVER!” People are always getting stabbed, shot, bludgeoned, or poisoned. If they overdose on drugs, the camera lingers on their vomit. I’ve seen several fingers chopped off.

Sometimes, I wish the writers would pay more attention to details. Or at least they could make more of an effort at rudimentary logic. I have trouble keeping quiet about these lapses, and it’s taking a toll on my husband, who exclaims, “It doesn’t matter, it’s TV!”

I also find that I have to google the actresses to see how old they are. I need to know if they’re incredibly well-preserved or aging horribly. This also annoys my husband, who thinks I should be able to put this off until the end of the episode.

I have come to l realize that a trope you can’t avoid is the death of a son. Never daughters. The writers must know it’s the worst thing that can happen, so they dish it out with total, almost malicious abandon, focusing on the lifeless bodies and the facial expression of the horrified parents. If you can’t take triggers, don’t watch TV, is my advice. Toughen up.

Lately, there are too many troubled professional women, paired up with an insufferable man who will eventually become a love interest. There are too many alcoholics, too. Just like in real life.

The actress Mel Harris, who was once famous, is in everything, and I’m happy to report that she’s younger than me but looks much older. Inbar Lavi is in everything, too.

In between the death and violence, I’m watching a show called Crashing about a dorky stand-up comic who isn’t funny, starring a dorky stand-up comic who isn’t funny.  In the show, we watch him watching other comics, who aren’t funny either. I almost want someone to stab or bludgeon him. But no finger chopping.

I’m still not watching Game of Thrones or The Crown, and no one can make me.

What shows are you watching, and how do you keep them straight??

Posted in Art, Rants | Tagged , , | 23 Comments

Time Out For Jimmy Choo

time out with jimmy choo

Everything is horrible and more horrible by the minute. We’re not going to be ready for the next outrage unless we stop and take a breath. Some may want to stop and smell the roses, but I prefer a bracing poke in the eye … like these pumps from Jimmy Choo.

Remember when the brand was the epitome of glamor and wealth? Ew!

How much stupider could a shoe be? From this angle, it looks like you’re walking in a box.

Here, it just looks l;like you stepped in black toilet paper. If anyone complains, you can just scream, “THESE ARE FUCKING BOWS, OK, AND THEY COST $745, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Jimmy Choo is not just a one-trick pony. Check out these new boots:

time out with jimmy chooThis is a collaboration with Off-White, a brand that thinks you’ll spend anything for a sweatshirt. I love the look of your stockings falling down around your boots! So clever.

They remind me of the time I was a flower girl at a wedding, wearing my very first pair of stockings, and no one told me that you needed a garter belt to hold them up. Every step down the aisle was excruciating. Like these boots. It was humiliating, but at least I wasn’t out $1,795.

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Nikolas Cruz, Victim

I know you’re supposed to be horrified by school shootings, and I am, but from the first description of Nikolas Cruz, my heart went out to him.

No one is justified in shooting up a school. The actions aren’t justified, but they seem tragically predictable. Given his circumstances, I believe he is a victim of Florida’s gun laws, and the NRA. Without easy access to assault rifles, he would just be a lonely outcast, failed by his parents, his school district, and the local police department.

Here’s an interview with a neighbor:

“He had emotional problems and I believe he was diagnosed with autism,” Mr. Gold said of Nikolas Cruz. “He had trouble controlling his temper. He broke things. He would do that sometimes at our house when he lost his temper. But he was always very apologetic afterwards.”

“He would sometimes be hitting his head and covering his ears. One time, I sent him home because he was misbehaving at our house and he took a golf club and smashed one of my trailers.”

He said that Mr. Cruz at one point had gone to a school for students with special needs. “Kids were really picking on him and would gang up on him and beat him up a little,” Mr. Gold said. “They ostracized him. He didn’t have many friends.”

Nikolas was adopted at 2 years old. His father died when he was six.  As a child, “Nikolas was moody, prone to an explosive temper and at times seemed to delight in antagonizing others.” People began to avoid him. In school, kids started calling him crazy. He played with his fingers and talked to himself. As he grew older, his mother often called the cops to reprimand him for his outbursts.

Let me stop here and say, HELLO, SCHOOL ADMINISTRATORS? HOW ABOUT SOME INTERVENTION? HOW ABOUT SOME BEHAVIORISTS? HOW ABOUT SOME SOCIAL SKILLS CLASSES? HOW ABOUT A CHILD PSYCHIATRIST AND SOME MEDICATION FOR ANXIETY OR MOOD SWINGS?

Instead, Nikolas went to a nice, wonderful, gigantic high school where he could be shunned and act out with weird talk about knives and weapons. The nice wonderful school expelled him because he just wasn’t right in the head. Here’s what a student at the nice school said about Nikolas:

“He was definitely not accepted at our school socially. People saw him as someone who was different than the normal people at our school,” Parodie added.

Douglas High has a place students call “the Emo Gazebo,” he said. “That’s where all the kids that are considered weird or not accepted sat. Kids at the Emo Gazebo didn’t even accept him there. He was just an outcast… He didn’t have any friends.”

“Most kids ignored him at school. They pushed him off to the side as if he was garbage. He screamed in class one time. He was upset and just started yelling at the teacher. The teacher was trying to help him and he just took it the wrong way,” Parodie continued.

Meanwhile, his Instagram is full of guns and weapons. Right in the open for all to see. He is obsessed with them. He comments on someone’s video that he wants to be a “professional school shooter.” He uses his real name!

In November, his mom suddenly died of pneumonia, leaving him alone with no support system. A sympathetic family takes him in. But he is devastated by the loss of his mom, and very depressed.

You know what happened next. Now he’s on suicide watch. His lawyer says he is remorseful and distraught.

I have known families with troubled kids, kids who have conduct disorders along with autism, kids who flip out and can’t manage their impulses. Often, thee kids are sent to residential schools for intensive therapy. And often, they can move back home, more in control and aware of boundaries and consequences.

A few years ago, I had a new neighbor, who had just divorced a very famous movie director. She confided that their son was at a residential school due to his violent outbursts. She loved her boy but was afraid of him. His diagnosis was autism, but he may have been bi-polar as well. Time passed and I saw the kid at the Oscars with his famous dad, looking nicely groomed and very happy.

Poor Nikolas didn’t have a famous rich dad. That’s his crime.

The rest is on the fucking NRA and their flunkies in congress. Thoughts and prayers to those bastards.

Posted in Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged , , | 20 Comments

Who’s Ready to Slut-Shame Hope Hicks?

time to slut-shame hope hicks

Slut Hope Hicks and some Nazis.

If Hope Hicks were a man, in her same position at the White House, we could openly accuse him of being a scumbag who can’t keep his dick in his pants. We’d go, “Wow, he’s already fucked two of Trump’s aides?!”

But since Hope is female, we must tread lightly. It’s all #MeToo. Don’t pick on her, she’s a woman. Women are oppressed victims. Time’s Up. We’re tired of being harassed for sex.

Me, I’m tired of Hope Hicks. What’s wrong with her? By all accounts, she is Trump’s closest confidante and handmaiden. She carries a steamer so she can steam his wrinkled suits on Air Force One. She is basically his work wife, and also a substitute for her mentor, Ivanka. She is rumored to be having an affair with Donald, even though she’s not blonde.

But why has she had affairs with Corey Lewandowski and Rob Porter, both thugs that Trump drooled over before throwing overboard? Lewandowski is not only married, but has been accused of sexual assault in a separate event from the battery charge during the campaign.

Porter, who is 6’5”, likes to punch and choke his wives and girlfriends. Fair enough if you work in Trump’s orbit. Locker room stuff.

But Hope? Keep your legs together, girl! Isn’t is degrading enough to be Donald’s go-to assistant and fluffer?

I want to break the silence around Hope. Let’s drag her into this if the men’s behavior can be scrutinized so publicly. If women are truly equal to men, they need to share the blame for stupid indiscretions.

Maybe Hope needs to go to those meetings for Sex and Love Addicts. The first step is admitting that’s she’s powerless over her behavior. Then she can make a decision to turn her will and her life over to the care of God as she understands Him.

I don’t know if they have God over at the White House. I haven’t seen any suggestion of that. Does Hope have a mom? Can Mom remind her what they taught in prep school, where she played lacrosse? Or do they teach you to seek out rough trade in the workplace? Listen, I have no clue, okay? I skipped high school.

The other morning, a male person in my life was raising his voice to me and I said that I didn’t want to be talked to like that. When he seemed perplexed, I explained, “BECAUSE I’M NOT HOPE HICKS!”

I hope this retort can become part of our national lexicon. This would be a win all around.

Thoughts, critiques, or insults?

Posted in News, Rants | Tagged , , , | 15 Comments

Finally, the $1,000 Plastic Bag!

finally, the $1000 plastic bagSorry, I’m exaggerating, this “top” is actually only $980, but sales tax will round it up. It is the apex of cutting edge fashion, ugly and disruptive as the day is long.

Calvin Klein 205W39NYC evoked modern Americana in its SS18 collection which included this black sleeveless top. It’s made from high-shine nylon and finished with a ruffle-trimmed drawstring neck. Tuck it into the label’s corresponding skirt for a look with directional flair.

Thank you, Raf Simons, for bringing the trash bag to its natural conclusion, we salute your genius!  Here it is with a skirt:

the $1000 trash bag

The Vetements guys must be furious.

Any styling tips, fashionistas?

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

The Passion of the Wordist

Yesterday, I heard MSNBC commentator Ari Melber discussing the infamous memo, and he described it as parsimonious. Naturally, I was upset.

I love Ari Melber. He is so smart, so affable and charming, and I even like his infatuation with rap and hip hop. So the word-usage problem was especially hurtful. I decided to write to him. Here’s what I wrote:

Tonight I heard you use the word “parsimonious” in reference to the stupid memo released today. I was upset because my husband and I just played an imaginary game of Who Would We Rather Have Dinner With, you or Chris Hayes, and you won!!!!

Did you mean to use parsimonious or did you mean to use another word?

No pressure, but everything is hanging on this.

Best regards and thank you for being a light in the wilderness.

Joane xo

I think I was a little stoned, because I misspelled my own name. Funnily enough, Chris Hayes also worried me recently when he used the word disinterested as a synonym for uninterested, which of course it is not. (I now know this glitch to be a phantonym.)

These are little things, but I want the people I respect to be above such mistakes. That’s how much I am invested in words. It’s emotional and visceral and even moral: USE THE RIGHT WORDS, MOTHERFUCKER, to paraphrase Pulp Fiction.

My sister loves it when people say “supposably” but that’s different. That’s just adorable. I love when someone says “had went.” I also loved it when a policeman responded to a complaint about my son’s garage band, and as he lectured us, he said something about “conversating”. My son and I exchanged a look of delight that I’ll always cherish.

Talking to my shrink recently, he encouraged me to let go of something. And I explained that I’m against letting go. Of anything. I just don’t like the concept, because I don’t like the words Let Go. I always interpret them as abandonment. I prefer to hold on, and hold on tight.  I suggested that I refused to Let Go of something, but I was open to walking around it.

How can words not matter? Every word, every inflection, means something. That’s why we have them! As imprecise as they are, you can still come pretty close to expressing your ideas if you know enough words. You can be thrilled to your core by a few words strung together in just the right way. You can be dismayed or even heartbroken as well. If you’re like me, you can go around being exasperated by people who think nonplussed means nonchalant, even though the tide is against you.

Old people, did you know that the expression “Ugh!” now means something positive?

This year, I posted my annual list of words to ban over here. I know you will like it. But I’ve since come across a good list of awful new words I didn’t know about and here’s a few more for good measure:

stratcom
hive mind
wheelhouse
side hustle
highkey
clicktivist

Ew! Or as we used to say, Ugh.

Posted in Disorders, Rants, Words | Tagged , , | 6 Comments