Comments For Jane 7-21-2010

Posted on July 21, 2010 by Sister Wolf

OMG! This is major news! It’s official: Sea has confirmed FOR THE FIRST TIME that Ronny  is her boyfriend!

Where is the goddamn champagne?!

I don’t know why it’s taken so long, but I think we can all agree that we saw this coming. Maybe they fell in love at the cat cafe, or maybe it was already a done deal. I hope that being in love doesn’t interfere with the curating.

Sea has been trying to source a pair of hideous Margiela shoes and I am crossing my fingers that she’ll acquire them from Louisa Via Roma or whatever that place is called.

Meanwhile, Mom has been cooking up a storm, correctly deducing that Sea is now out of control and that she must forge a new Jane-less identity for herself.   Without Mom, though, Sea’s style has degenerated to tacky ill-fittting thriftshop dresses and sloppy unflattering hairdo’s.

Sea won’t publish your worthless opinions, but you can leave them here instead. I will go first:

Dear Sea, I am thrilled that you and Ronny  are a couple, but whoa, he is packing such a gigantic package, are you sure you’re up to this?? Mom must’ve had a stroke when she saw this photo. I am impressed by your courage in following your heart even if it means dating your ex-boyfriend’s pal and risking a female injury. Don’t forget to shop, okay? Love, SW

Posted in Fashion, News, revenge | Tagged , , , | 67 Comments

Achingly Cool

Posted on July 19, 2010 by Sister Wolf


Today, I came across the term “achingly cool” three times. The first time, it was applied to these striped shoes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before, but like “effortlessly chic” I think it’s a description that label’s the user an idiot.

Why “achingly?” It never hurts me when something is cool. Is it supposed to connote yearning? Do you yearn so much to own these shoes that it causes an ache?

What about “traumatizingly cool?” Or “gut-wrenchingly cool?” I don’t like these fucking adverbs! Make them go away! I was looking for a photo of the grotesquely stylish  Daphne Guinness wearing her spiked Gareth Pugh outfit when I found it at Grazia. Sure enough, she was described as achingly cool.

This photo makes me want to kill someone. It is everything I hate about hipster fashion and the cult of celebrity.   This woman could wrap herself in toilet paper and everyone would fall over screaming in envy. Ten years ago she was just a normal billionaire’s wife.   She is the Lady Gaga of socialites.

There must be someone else in the public eye who is more insanely rad than Daphne! Whose style do you admire, and what term would best describe it?

Posted in Celebrities, Fashion, Rants, Words | Tagged , , | 79 Comments

A No-Boobs Zone

Posted on July 18, 2010 by Sister Wolf

Have you noticed lately that there’s no escape from boobs? Every other fashion editorial sneaks in a model’s boob, if not complete nudity. Is this the Terry Richardsonization of fashion photography, or just the continuing of The End Of Innocence brought about by the internet?

I like to see beautiful nudes, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood. Sometimes, I just want to see the clothes, or the make-up, or the photography in a fashion layout. I want to have a choice about seeing boobs.

I was saddened by a photo at Susie’s blog, showing an older gray-haired model who still had to show her boob. I guess this was a win for feminism or agism. For me, it was a reminder that boobs have become de rigueur in fashion. Everyone must be willing to expose their boobs.

I’ve probably posted photos with boobs in them but from now on, this will be a boob-free zone, unless the subject is specifically boobs.

A beautiful way to not see boobs is the handmade silver pasties above, by Leah Ball, who just got funding for her Pasties Project. Yay for Leah!

Posted in Fashion, Rants | Tagged , , | 39 Comments

True Blood and Me

Posted on July 17, 2010 by Sister Wolf

Tonight, my sisters and I had dinner at a neighborhood Indian restaurant when suddenly, a gorgeous couple walked toward the door. My eyes bugged and out and I squealed excitedly, “Oh look, it’s Sookie and Bill!”

Anna Paquin and Stephen Moyer must be accustomed to stares and squeals. They never turned their heads. But that was okay, because I got to see how fucking stunning they are in real life. She wore shorts and high heels, and he wore a suit and an open collared shirt. They were holding hands and looked madly in love. I hope they’re both bisexual and not just Anna. I hope they’re home thinking about the gaping woman at the Indian restaurant and wondering how to get in touch with me for hot sex!

I must say that my thrill was somewhat dampened by having to explain to my sisters that Sookie and Bill are the stars of True Blood. Clearly, they won’t be invited to the hot sex.

Posted in Art, Celebrities | Tagged , | 35 Comments

Is Androgeny Always a Plus?

Posted on July 14, 2010 by Sister Wolf

No.

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , | 47 Comments

Let’s Discuss Body Image

Posted on July 13, 2010 by Sister Wolf

Of all the style bloggers who’ve been brought to my attention recently, this one disturbes me the most.

I don’t want to link to her or hurt her feelings. I just want her to eat!

How can one become so delusional that one’s starving body looks like a pin-up girl? This blogger likes to post several pictures of the same outfit, often posing saucily in front of various landmarks. She appears to be youngish, but her face is wrinkled from starvation and perhaps bulimia.

Just the other day, my sister and I were recalling our bouts of teenage anorexia. She can remember the exact moment that she decided to lose weight. We both remember how it was triggered by our dad, whose offhand comment about her weight was devastating to a sensitive 13 year old.

I can’t remember what triggered my anorexa, but it started when I was living in a place for juvenile delinquents. I got down to 96 pounds but still worried about calories. When I ate eggs, I threw away the yolk.

When you have anorexia, the image you see in the mirror can never be thin enough. Even your bones look too fat. All you care about is being thin and staying thin. You lose all capacity for being rational about your body.

A couple of years ago, I met a girl with anorexia who was also a drug addict. She reminded me a little of my younger self, and she was like a wounded bird that I longed to protect. She confessed to me that she cried after eating an apple. I tried to explain that her thinking was distorted.   She   died from huffing, thin as a twig.

A new study suggests that the propensity for anorexia begins in utero, due to hormone fluctuations. There is also a genetic component.   Therefore, it’s not just a reaction to cultural pressure and stereotypes. Maybe it’s an issue of seeking control when you   feel powerless: If you can control what you put in your mouth, you are in charge. That is the fallacy.

I hope someone can help the poor blogger. I hope someone can reach out to her, although who knows how many people may have tried and failed.

The good thing is that once you start to eat, your brain can work again. You begin to end the struggle with your body, and the spell can be broken, just by gaining a few vital pounds.

If you’ve battled with this shit, or you have an opinion, let’s hear it!

Posted in Disorders, Fashion, Horrible Stuff | Tagged , , | 136 Comments

Gratuitous Cute Guy Post II

Posted on July 13, 2010 by Sister Wolf

He’s young but he’s 6′ 1″ with green eyes.

Is it wrong to love Miles McMillen? Maybe for you it is!

Posted in Art | Tagged , | 39 Comments

Discount Ring

Posted on July 13, 2010 by Sister Wolf

I loved this image when I saw it here, even before I realized that the rings were created by Cami and Nadia of Di$count. Check out their stunning photos here.   The design is limited to only 50 rings, and you can order one for $180.

Imagine the ring worn over a thin leather glove. Or with blood red nail polish. Or any other arrangement. Mmmm.

Posted in Art, Fashion | Tagged , , | 15 Comments

How Dare I Keep Going

Posted on July 12, 2010 by Sister Wolf

All my devoted trolls are demanding that I go away and mourn. But the problem is, there’s no way to implement this. Mourning isn’t a thing you do in a black dress. Maybe they want me to spend all day at a cemetery. But it doesn’t matter where I am, it’s all the same barren place, a place I’d rather not be.

I am going through the motions, because that’s all I know how to do. I could take to my bed and never get up again. I’m not ruling that out. It just seems unfair to my family. I don’t know how to have a nervous breakdown or I’d gladly have one.

I don’t want to “recover” because mothers who bounce back after the death of a child seem despicable. How could anyone “move forward” after this? What would be the point?

I don’t know what to do besides cry or distract myself.   I’m still waiting for him to come back. When he does, I’ll try not to scold him for putting us through this. Meanwhile, I have to pick out a grave marker and then try to pay for it.

I started blogging as a way to express myself. Now, it’s a way to escape myself.

If one more moron whines about my “negativity” or complains that I “hate on” people, I’m going to lose my fucking temper. You can’t hate “on” people. But I might have to learn how.

Posted in grief, revenge, Words | Tagged , , | 80 Comments

A Night Out

Posted on July 10, 2010 by Sister Wolf

On a rare night out with my husband, we drove to an independent bookshop where a guy we like was reading an excerpt from his new book. I felt tentatively hopeful. I almost never go out in the evening.  I was pleased to be doing something arty for a change.

We sat in the front row of chairs, since there weren’t many set up in the aisle at the back of the store. An affable guy read from his book about encounters on the bus. Then, the guy we came to see introduced himself and read a short chapter of a charming, offbeat memoir of his childhood in New York.

Another guy quickly replaced him and introduced himself. His name was Chris D. I should have been warned by that D.

He gazed at his shoes and began a rambling account of his various artistic endeavors:  He was involved in music for 20 years, he had written several unproduced screenplays, poems, and short stories. He noted that some of his stories were based on dreams. He introduced a story about a couple of  war veterans from Vietnam, describing their convoluted situation.

He began to read the worst piece of writing I have ever heard in my entire life. He read in a deep-voiced monotone. Some GI was shooting dope with a Vietnamese prostitute named “Lucky.” The dope-shooting was described in lurid, over-the-top detail.  Veins, blood, abscesses, verbs, more blood, adjectives, then sex. “They fell to the floor and fucked each others brains out.”

I stared at my hands and played with my hair. I wanted to kill that fucker. I imagined a question and answer period after the reading, where I would confront him with the question: “Are you a junkie or just a fucking idiot?”

He read for close to 30 minutes. No cliche escaped him: It was hackneyed melodrama, both dismal and pointless.

We left the second he stopped reading. Outside as we walked to the car, I exclaimed, “What a fucking motherfucker!” My husband agreed. He added that the guy had once been in a band called The Flesh Eaters.

Back home, I googled Chris D and saw how important he was to the L.A. punk scene.

Nothing is sacred, not even old punkers.

I am left with these two thoughts:

1. I am fucking Tolstoy compared to that bastard Chris D.
2. I can’t even enjoy a simple night out.

Posted in Art, Horrible Stuff, Rants, Words | Tagged , , | 39 Comments