*even though the formatting is still horrible horrible horrible
Every day, life teaches us lessons. Sometimes the lessons are about love; sometimes they are about friendship; sometimes they are about why we should not cut our own hair.
Yesterday I noticed that my hair had grown out into a nice fringe, just above my eyebrows. I really liked it. It would have been perfect, except that it was a bit uneven.
Now - surprise! - it is really freakin' short and I look like a Lego man again and the worst thing is that it is still a bit uneven but I was afraid to cut any more off. Guess I'll be sporting/rocking the fauxhawk for a little longer.
Am watching NZ's Next Tup Muddle sorry Top Model and it is awful. Colin Mathura-Jeffree (I am not even making up his name) is awful. I have no idea how he got to be on the judges' panel - can we really not do any better than that? Mind you, I also hate hate hate the flamboyantly gay male judge I mean 'style guru' on America's Next Top Model, 'Miss Jay.' Episode after episode, he and Colin M-J manage to look ridiculous. Not ridiculous as in 'I am a model, it is ok for me to wear this crazy high-fashion outfit,' but ridiculous as in 'I am a past-his-prime male model wearing something that would look silly on Heidi Klum.' Cringe-makingly, awfully, I-feel-for-you ridiculous.
Also, all of the contestants (and judges) sound like they are trying to talk with a duck in their mouth. (If you're not from NZ feel free to pronounce that "...like they are trying to talk with a dick in their mouth," something that Colin M-J was apparently fired from many photoshoots for doing.)
Speaking of, I had a dream last night that I was a pornstar! I briefly flirted with the idea that my subconscious was showing me my true calling, but then I remembered that a) I do not really want to be a pornstar and b) I don't have the right, uh, build.
Guess what is happening this weekend? That's right, onesie photo! My mother is taking off for Laos for six weeks on Tuesday, and she promised to take a photo of me in my onesie before she went. Prepare to be wowed. By my Lego hair.*
In a shocking twist, someone unfollowed my blog today! Yesterday, before I posted, I had 8 followers. Today, I have 7.
I think it may have been 'Muncle.'
Now you must all tell me how much you love me, or else I shall have a crisis of confidence and never blog again.
*was reading back over this prior to posting and misread that as 'Leg hair' but I promise not to wow you with any of that
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I was Sick! But now am Better.
Someone made an interesting comment about this blog yesterday - they said they much preferred reading my 'serious' short stories, which are invariably tragic and poignant (and, if we're being honest, crap) because they were more genuine, and my blog was...they paused. "Irritatingly naive?" I suggested. "Um, youthfully whimsical."
So now I am going to start a socio-political blog in which I write serious pieces about things I have studied long and hard - it is time to put away the whimsical trappings of youth in favour of insights into the nature of Life, Love, and the Inevitability of Change.
Just kidding! Here's a story about my mother and Batman. I didn't spell him 'Bathman' once.
My mother, who is notorious for falling asleep in movies, rented The Dark Knight to watch this evening.
Kate: "You won't like it."
Mum: "But I watched Batman Begins especially!"
Me: "Did you like that?"
Mum: "Don't remember. What was it about?"
Me: "Batman. And how he begins."
Kate: "With the Batcave? And Morgan Freeman?"
Mum looks blank.
Me: "He's a billionaire, but he's secretly Batman, and Michael Caine helps him."
Kate: "You like Michael Caine."
Mum looks blank.
Kate: "They flash the bat symbol on the sky to tell the people the Batman rides tonight."
Me: "The batcave is under his house. He has a girlfriend, but they can't bat be together."
Long pause.
Mum, with excitement: "Oh! Does he save a city? And have a Batmobile?"
Oh, you mean that Batman.
More interestingly, did you know you can get blacklight tattoos? They do it with a special ink that only shows up under a blacklight. They look like awesome I mean this:
There is no way you can tell me that's not pretty awesome.
The second one is kind of lame, but demonstrates how the tattoo doesn't show up under normal light. I mean, okay, so it's probably not so good for your skin, but oh well.
In related news, I saw a picture of a connect-the-dots tattoo:
It's a giraffe. Obviously.
That idea by itself is kind of cool in a hipsterish way, but listen to this.
What I really want is a connect-the-dots tattoo in normal ink, with the dots joined up in blacklight ink. I MEAN SERIOUSLY HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE.*
I know, I know, you're right: it would be difficult to choose something awesome enough. I mean the lady with the giraffe probably could've thought of something better. What would one get? Bok choi?
Also you'd have to carry a little blacklight around all the time. But it would still probably be worth it.
On the topic of Maybe Awesome, how do you feel about fibre-optic hair extensions?
They're so deliciously tacky. I really want some.
Also, I'm still waiting on your questions!
*not on a global scale of cool, just compared to how cool I normally am.
So now I am going to start a socio-political blog in which I write serious pieces about things I have studied long and hard - it is time to put away the whimsical trappings of youth in favour of insights into the nature of Life, Love, and the Inevitability of Change.
Just kidding! Here's a story about my mother and Batman. I didn't spell him 'Bathman' once.
My mother, who is notorious for falling asleep in movies, rented The Dark Knight to watch this evening.
Kate: "You won't like it."
Mum: "But I watched Batman Begins especially!"
Me: "Did you like that?"
Mum: "Don't remember. What was it about?"
Me: "Batman. And how he begins."
Kate: "With the Batcave? And Morgan Freeman?"
Mum looks blank.
Me: "He's a billionaire, but he's secretly Batman, and Michael Caine helps him."
Kate: "You like Michael Caine."
Mum looks blank.
Kate: "They flash the bat symbol on the sky to tell the people the Batman rides tonight."
Me: "The batcave is under his house. He has a girlfriend, but they can't bat be together."
Long pause.
Mum, with excitement: "Oh! Does he save a city? And have a Batmobile?"
Oh, you mean that Batman.
More interestingly, did you know you can get blacklight tattoos? They do it with a special ink that only shows up under a blacklight. They look like awesome I mean this:
There is no way you can tell me that's not pretty awesome. 
The second one is kind of lame, but demonstrates how the tattoo doesn't show up under normal light. I mean, okay, so it's probably not so good for your skin, but oh well.In related news, I saw a picture of a connect-the-dots tattoo:
It's a giraffe. Obviously.That idea by itself is kind of cool in a hipsterish way, but listen to this.
What I really want is a connect-the-dots tattoo in normal ink, with the dots joined up in blacklight ink. I MEAN SERIOUSLY HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE.*
I know, I know, you're right: it would be difficult to choose something awesome enough. I mean the lady with the giraffe probably could've thought of something better. What would one get? Bok choi?
Also you'd have to carry a little blacklight around all the time. But it would still probably be worth it.
On the topic of Maybe Awesome, how do you feel about fibre-optic hair extensions?
They're so deliciously tacky. I really want some.
Also, I'm still waiting on your questions!
*not on a global scale of cool, just compared to how cool I normally am.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Kate Rocks
"Watch as this brave avocado orchardist..." Obviously, I am watching Top Town. It is a show where provincial NZ towns compete in bizarre competitions of strength and/or skill to be crowned...Top Town! It seems to involve a lot of bad puns & people from Timaru falling over.
Farmers ad has just come on...'Farmers...your store.' Whatever! If it was really my store, I would own it, and then I would not have to go to work tomorrow. Work is so awful and etc.
Yesterday was a good day! Started with clothes swap party - as well as several stunning pairs of shoes and items of clothing I managed to snag myself a simply fantastic handbag, apparently designed by an over-excited 6-year-old. The material is leopard print. Glittery, gold leopard print. The clasp is a tasteful gold imitation snakeskin - several different types of snakeskin, in fact - and the front of the bag is covered in chains. Elton John would probably look at it and go, "ooh, don't you think that's a little...too?" but I think it's simply tacktastic.
Apart from that no news - am tired, grouchy, have work tomorrow & haven't plucked eyebrows.
Kate just came into the living room and delivered the following monologue: "I've got my shizzle on my nizzle! Wait, I've got my shit on my...? Ooh." Pauses, then begins to sing. "I've got my shizzle on my nizzle and I'm going to town...I got my sizzle on my bizzle and I"m going to the circus...found a bizzle on the sidewalk and I'm going to town...got my wizzle on my tizzle and I'm going to the circus. Woah, oh, shizzle nizzle circus. Woah, oh, bizzle bizzle town. We're going to town. To see some lions." Pauses, stops singing. "Wait. Are you writing that out? To put on your blog? For all the world to see? Never mind, the world can have it. It's just that good."
I have the most awesome sister EVER.
Farmers ad has just come on...'Farmers...your store.' Whatever! If it was really my store, I would own it, and then I would not have to go to work tomorrow. Work is so awful and etc.
Yesterday was a good day! Started with clothes swap party - as well as several stunning pairs of shoes and items of clothing I managed to snag myself a simply fantastic handbag, apparently designed by an over-excited 6-year-old. The material is leopard print. Glittery, gold leopard print. The clasp is a tasteful gold imitation snakeskin - several different types of snakeskin, in fact - and the front of the bag is covered in chains. Elton John would probably look at it and go, "ooh, don't you think that's a little...too?" but I think it's simply tacktastic.
Apart from that no news - am tired, grouchy, have work tomorrow & haven't plucked eyebrows.
Kate just came into the living room and delivered the following monologue: "I've got my shizzle on my nizzle! Wait, I've got my shit on my...? Ooh." Pauses, then begins to sing. "I've got my shizzle on my nizzle and I'm going to town...I got my sizzle on my bizzle and I"m going to the circus...found a bizzle on the sidewalk and I'm going to town...got my wizzle on my tizzle and I'm going to the circus. Woah, oh, shizzle nizzle circus. Woah, oh, bizzle bizzle town. We're going to town. To see some lions." Pauses, stops singing. "Wait. Are you writing that out? To put on your blog? For all the world to see? Never mind, the world can have it. It's just that good."
I have the most awesome sister EVER.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Leggings. They aren't trousers.*
*or, A Brief & Judgmental Foray Into Fashion Blogging.
Are you listening, Christchurch? Leggings are not trousers. I understand leggings under a skirt. I understand leggings under a tunic thing. I even understand leggings without feet in (sort of). What I don't understand is leggings all by themselves. Unless you are a cyclist, there is no reason to ever wear leggings, all on their lonesome, as trousers. For God's sake, people! I can see your bum. (Is that the point?)
Christchurch is weird like that. In Wellington when people wear ridiculously OTT outfits they're blatantly hoping to appear incredibly quirky/professional/artistic/trendy, and thus stand out from the seething mass of Cuba-clogging humanity. I can't pretend to have any idea what the majority of Christchurchians are trying to achieve when they get dressed in the morning because none of them end up looking any good. God, Christchurch, you're such a try-hard.
Two Irritating Non-Fashion-Related Things About Christchurch
- My mother's cellphone ringtone. Her incoming txt alert is about the same length as the Tony's Tire Service jingle, and slightly more irritating. She's also one of those people who, when her phone starts playing its obnoxious little tune, goes "Oh! That's my phone!" and yet makes no effort to turn it off. I am eventually going to snap and throw it in the toilet.
- The health regime I have unwittingly allowed home to impose on me. No smoking (family unaware of this nasty habit, and those who know about it think I've quit, which I suppose I have now, actually). Hardly any drinking (hard to go out drinking when you know 4 people and none of them like, well, going out drinking). Eating healthily (family cupboard full of vegetabley things).
Whinge whinge whinge. I think I am just bored. I had a pretty strong feeling Christchurch was going to be insanely boring, but I was hoping to be proved wrong.
Last night - Saturday night - I went to the movies with my mother and my aunt - GOD DAMN IT WELLINGTON I MISS YOU.
Are you listening, Christchurch? Leggings are not trousers. I understand leggings under a skirt. I understand leggings under a tunic thing. I even understand leggings without feet in (sort of). What I don't understand is leggings all by themselves. Unless you are a cyclist, there is no reason to ever wear leggings, all on their lonesome, as trousers. For God's sake, people! I can see your bum. (Is that the point?)
Christchurch is weird like that. In Wellington when people wear ridiculously OTT outfits they're blatantly hoping to appear incredibly quirky/professional/artistic/trendy, and thus stand out from the seething mass of Cuba-clogging humanity. I can't pretend to have any idea what the majority of Christchurchians are trying to achieve when they get dressed in the morning because none of them end up looking any good. God, Christchurch, you're such a try-hard.
Two Irritating Non-Fashion-Related Things About Christchurch
- My mother's cellphone ringtone. Her incoming txt alert is about the same length as the Tony's Tire Service jingle, and slightly more irritating. She's also one of those people who, when her phone starts playing its obnoxious little tune, goes "Oh! That's my phone!" and yet makes no effort to turn it off. I am eventually going to snap and throw it in the toilet.
- The health regime I have unwittingly allowed home to impose on me. No smoking (family unaware of this nasty habit, and those who know about it think I've quit, which I suppose I have now, actually). Hardly any drinking (hard to go out drinking when you know 4 people and none of them like, well, going out drinking). Eating healthily (family cupboard full of vegetabley things).
Whinge whinge whinge. I think I am just bored. I had a pretty strong feeling Christchurch was going to be insanely boring, but I was hoping to be proved wrong.
Last night - Saturday night - I went to the movies with my mother and my aunt - GOD DAMN IT WELLINGTON I MISS YOU.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
400 Is A Lot Of Words
A colleague of mine has asked me to write a 400-word article on winter fashion, despite the fact that I am totally un-hip. I am now desperately trying to find what is fashionable.
You know what would be cool? A bar where all the cocktails were named after musicians.
I am developing this idea. I think it's my brain shying away from writing fashion thing. (chunky scarves are a perennial favourite, surely? perhaps will do fashion thing at home, but then will have to do it longhand as have no internet access or USB stick).
I know! I'll call my sister! She is actually fashionable, not just impostor. I am not even impostor. I feel like a British spy, on their first assignment in Moscow, who has just realised they really should've learnt Russian before they left Liverpool.
wow, apparently with Skype I can call the phone number in my email signature with the touch of a button (click of a mouse). Which would be fairly pointless because I'm not there, and also because I don't know how headphones and so on work and the computer would probably start ringing frantically and I would be powerless to stop it.
Look up some fashion, for the love of God.
Apparently Oriental, Gothic and Military are all going to be big this season. I shall write that down. Also bomber jackets. I thought they were big last season? Perhaps this page is out of date. Good God, it's stating that Ugg boots are making a comeback. I give up. I am going to go now and phone home.
You know what would be cool? A bar where all the cocktails were named after musicians.
I am developing this idea. I think it's my brain shying away from writing fashion thing. (chunky scarves are a perennial favourite, surely? perhaps will do fashion thing at home, but then will have to do it longhand as have no internet access or USB stick).
I know! I'll call my sister! She is actually fashionable, not just impostor. I am not even impostor. I feel like a British spy, on their first assignment in Moscow, who has just realised they really should've learnt Russian before they left Liverpool.
wow, apparently with Skype I can call the phone number in my email signature with the touch of a button (click of a mouse). Which would be fairly pointless because I'm not there, and also because I don't know how headphones and so on work and the computer would probably start ringing frantically and I would be powerless to stop it.
Look up some fashion, for the love of God.
Apparently Oriental, Gothic and Military are all going to be big this season. I shall write that down. Also bomber jackets. I thought they were big last season? Perhaps this page is out of date. Good God, it's stating that Ugg boots are making a comeback. I give up. I am going to go now and phone home.
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