Friday, May 29, 2009

Sick Ass of the Week: "The O.C" by Nicole

As in: Oh, SEE how ugly this dress is?

This reminds me of my mom's old Chadwick's Catalogs. There was always that one dress: Long sleeves, four panel skirt, twelve colors, twenty sizes, zero style.

I wonder is Misch opted for the 5 day freight or overnight shipping...

Thursday, May 28, 2009

"A Sequins of Events" by Nicole

While perusing my closet this morning, in an attempt to find something sensible to wear on this rainy workday, I started to think about how our clothes reflect our lives.

Take my closet for instance - if a casual, non-objective observer were to look through my wardrobe, I am certain the picture they formed in their head of the wearer wouldn't look at all like me. In fact, it would probably resemble someone like this:

Sadly, I am not Lady Gaga. My life doesn't resemble hers at all. I have a full time desk job, and my nights are spent either at the gym, watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians reuruns, or thrift shopping (most recent score - a $5 vintage Dior jacket...thanks, you guys!).

So why, you ask, do I own a sequin bolero? I don't know.

The leather pants? Can't help ya.

Lace gloves? Patent leggings? Fur capelet? ...Who the hell knows.

It may be that, in my head, I yearn for Gaga's beautiful-dirty-rich lifestyle - or at least I want to dress like I do.

All I know is that, when it comes to my closet, Gaga would loves it and PETA would hates it....and maybe that's enough for now.

...Oh, give me a break, it's vintage. The animal would be dead by now, anyway.*

*Disclaimer: when it comes to animal cruelty...we hates it. No furry little bitches were harmed in the writing of this blog.

Quoth the Blogger, "Hatesitmore!"

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I slept half-naked and weary,
Over many a carbo-loaded dinner I ate just until,
While I laid there, probably snoring, since TV that night was hella boring,
And then I heard this awful screeching, screening out my window sill,
"Tis some cats," I thought, "Humping outside my window sill,
They bang all day, yet want more still.

The the noise grew more distinct and telling,
By the break of dawn, I believed it more,
For I had heard it yesterday at a different hour,
It was a crow, perched high above once more,
A bird of black, irritating as before,
Quoth the blogger, "Hatesitmore!"

While I could not sleep with this awful yapping,
But his screeching continued, forevermore,
I devised a plan to engage his silence,
So that my ears could be relieved of sore,
To my balcony I retreated swiftly,
Grabbed some ice, I grabbed it tightly,
I tossed it at the bird, "Hatesitmore!"

And the crow, quickly puzzled, quickly fleeing, quickly fleeing,
From the lines outside my window sill, like the Raven of Poe's lore,
I crept back to sleep, eyes are heavy,
Wanting sleep more than ever before,
Thankful my ice worked on that bird from the lore,
Quoth the blogger, "Hatesitmore!"

Friday, May 22, 2009

This Line is Trash: "(House of) Dereon" by Nicole

**Sigh** As if the clearance racks at Marshall's weren't crowded enough...Beyonce and her Beyond-Sane mother, Tina Knowles, just keep churning out their sick-ass designs like there's no tomorrow.

The tagline they've chosen for HOD (Hates of Dereon) is "From the Catwalk to the Sidewalk". I guess "From the Catwalk to the Ross Dress for Less to The Back of Your Closet to Goodwill to the Ass of a Homeless Crack Whore" was too long.

And, just in case you were worried your daughter would make it to Junior High with her virginity intact: There's a girls line!

...If Bennifer were back together I'd swear the Apocalypse was upon us.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Loves it: A Chanel Brag

Texts From Last Night TOTALLY used our text!

(323): Do you think an esthetician would be willing to wax the Chanel Cs into my crotch? That way, whenever a guy gets ready to pound on it I can go "Careful, it's Chanel."

Here's the original context:

nicole: Do you think an esthetician would be willing/able wax the Chanel Cs into my crotch?
tregg: oh em gee. that would be so hot ass
nicole: right?
tregg: i'll try to do it tonight on myself and get back to you
nicole: So, everytime a guy gets ready to pound on it i can say "Careful, it's Chanel."
tregg: bahahahaha ok, i'll do the Louis logo then
nicole: hahahaha
tregg3: so we're distinguishable from each other

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

"Is that an Olympic Gold Medalist in your pocket...?" or "Why I loves that Shawn Johnson won DWTS" by Nicole

Carrie Ann Humminahummina was right - we all underestimated this petite powerhouse.

Earlier in the season, I definitely didn't expect Shawn to end up in the finals. The odds were certainly stacked against her. She's compact - probably about as tall as a My Size Barbie - with thick, muscular limbs that hardly compare to the lithe graceful stems of Melissa Rycroft in the carbless world of Ballroom Dancing. Yet, with each routine, she continued to improve, finally giving a proverbial "talk to the hand" with her electric Cha-Cha-Cha to Michael Jackson's "PYT".

The competition was stiff...but Shawn made us stiffer. (Hey-O!)

I found myself smiling like an idiot through each of her routines. Every twirl, every flip, every false eyelash made me feel full of joy and pride - as if I were watching a shorter, richer, more motivated, thick-thighed version of my younger self up there. Eh - who am I kidding? I had pretty thick-ass thighs when I was 17.

I'm proud of you, Shawn. You looked those tall, skinny, graceful giraffes in the ribcage and you gave them a big, glittery F.U. Now, it's gonna be YOU on the cover of US Weekly! YOU on Regis and Kelly! YOU using that Mirrorball trophy as a dress form!

Here are some shots of Shawn in action. ...Suck it, Rycroft.. There's a new twirl in town.

Loves it.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

"Is This Blog Vapid?" or "My thoughts on Gossip Girl and Censorship" by Tregg

I have to say, I was a little less than pleased with last night's television programming.  While I could spend a whole blog dedicated to my first point, I will try to be as succinct as possible.  My Monday nights are highlighted-- if not bolded, italicized, and underlined by Gossip Girl.  It's a wonderful display of all the things I pretend I have in life-- wealth, style, social class, high cheek bones-- but don't and secretly, or not so secretly want.  It has had a pretty good run this season, from the Hamptons to the slammer, and as this season comes to a close, I have some beef with the producers.  I know you want to promote this new spin-off show, but did I really have to sit through the bulk of my Monday night guilty pleasure watching Brittany Snow try on reject Madonna music video costumes?


Granted, after a a full episode of this new abomination, I'm sure I will slide head-first into LOVES IT, but trivializing Serena and Dan's reunion at prom and Blair's realization that Nate and she are donezo seems a bit unjust.  Wait, those things are trivial?  Shit.

After Brittany Snow's mugshot graced our screen, we promptly channel surfed on over to ABC Family, the station you can bring home to your mother.  They were, probably reluctantly, playing Mean Girls, which is most assuredly a violation of their stringent "Only play shows and movies that aren't funny" policy.

This movie is appropriately rated PG-13 because all of the characters keep their clothes on and no F Bombs are dropped.  However, AB-Sorry you can't say "bitch" Family, diluted it down to a blasphemous PG rating.  Here is a small smattering of words you can and cannot say on ABC Family, as heard in Mean Girls.

-Fat Virgin
-Too gay to function

-Fat Whore

Ok, I made that last one up, but you get the idea.

Bottom line, don't waste your time with Mean Girls on television.  Unless its on Showtime, and then you can hope to see a nip slip from someone.  Just hopefully not Damien.

Here's to a much more tantalizing Tuesday evening of television.  What's on again?  90210?  


Loves it - "When ELLE freezes over", by Nicole

Hi. I'm Nicole. And I'm a fashion magazine addict.

"Hi, Nicole."

It started, innocently enough, back in the 90s, with a subscription my Nana purchased for me as a way of helping me with my "sell a bunch of magazines and get a 5 pound Hershey Bar" school fundraiser.

The now defunct Sassy Magazine turned out to be my gateweay drug into a world of glossy materialism. Others followed. Seventeen. YM. Teen. Teen Prom. Your Prom. Your Teen Prom. ...I was hooked.

My addiction has been a significant presence in my life for 15 years. Some loathe it, some enable it, few understand it. I loves it.

But, lately, with the economy floundering along with impulse shopping and careless spending, I've really been trying to turn over a new leaf.

"One a month. One magazine a month is all I **gulp** need."

After all, at $3.99 a whack (even more for the spring and fall issues!), that gloss don't come cheap.

So, with a wallet free of funds and a heart full of determination, I wandered into Barnes & Noble to begin a new tradition: I would pick up every new fashion mag in the joint, grab a comfy chair, and thumb through each until I had found my one monthly purchase.

Then it happened. Usually one of the most annoying occurances known to (wo)man, and certainly THE most annoying when you're trying to read a magazine on the elliptical machine; one of those god-damned cardboard subscription thingies fell onto the floor.


I picked it up and, while I moved to annoyedly shove it back into it's appropriate spot, I read:


This couldn't be real. This had to be one of those hallucinations that people have when they're crossing the desert on a mule or something. I investigated further.



The universe was clearly sending me a message. I had spent the last 15 years shelling out...let's average of three mags a month times roughly $4 each times twelve months equals...A SHITLOAD OF MONEY! ($144 - gross.)

I am happy to say that I will never again purchase a magazine at the newsstand price...well, not counting those People Style Watch special editions...those things are hot ass. Instead, I am making a huge step for myself, and maybe one for womankind. I am now the proud owner/recipient of four subscriptions totaling only $35. That's about equal to the cost of 8.5 checkout-line issues!

Instead of hates-ing on my past glossy financial blunders, I decided to move forward, think positively, and continue to act like a responsible, almost mid-twenties recessionista and put the rest of the money that I would have spent this year into my savings account.

How hot ass is that?

Monday, May 11, 2009

Hates it: "Buying Clothes for Work" by Nicole

"You're wearing that same shirt AGAIN?"

I probably would've come back with some bitchy remark like "...You're a bitch!", but she's my niece. And she's eight.

I'm in serious need of some biz casj, but typically, when it comes to shopping for work clothes, I'd rather do community service with Naomi Campbell while she's on the rag and has a purse-full of Iphones.

Maybe I'll pull a Marge Simpson, and every night I'll go home and rip up my Faconnable button down and Banana Republic flat-fronts and turn then into a fabulous-yet-appropriate cocktail dress...and then a jumpsuit...and then a PONCHO!

::Sigh:: I suppose until I get a job for which the dress code is described as "quirky, fabulous, and sort of schizo", I'm doomed to purchase more button downs and flat fronts.

See you bitches at Kohl's.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Review: "The Fashion Show" by Nicole

OK, I'm not going to lie, I kind of wanted to hates this show. Tregg and I have been Proj Run groupies since Austin Scarlett's corn husk dress. I mean what's not to love? Between "What happened to Andre? and "It's a motherfuckin' walk-off", PR is a gold mine for quotes alone! I may never recover from the devastating loss that occured when Bravo (cooler than E!, gayer than LOGO) lost PR to sick ass Lifetime...with their Reba and their Dean Cain movies. Hates it.

That said, even though it won't be shown on my fave network, I felt it would be wrong to turn my back on the dynamic duo of Klum and Kors...not to mention that adorable I-want-you-to-come-live-with-me-and-be-my-gay-houseboy Tim Gunn.

Allegiance be damned, I tuned in to The Fashion Show last night at ten because - well, frankly, PR doesn't start till fall and I was up watching a Millionaire Matchmaker marathon anyway so, why not, right? I mean, come on, a girl can only go so long without watching a bunch of gays run around a fabric store with twelve dollars trying to find material to make brocade hot pants - am I right?

Verdict - LOVES'd IT!!!! This show was a hoot and a half. If for no other reason, you should tune in to admire gay-as-a-picnic-basket Merlin's extensive hat collection. I still don't quite get why Kelly Rowland is co-hosting, or why she is any kind of authority on fashion... I just keep hoping she'll start working lines from Destiny's Child songs into her comments on the designers' projects.

"OOh, child. If I wore that bolero, you can bet all the boys would Say My Name."
"That Bandage Skirt is too tight to be practical. How am I supposed to run to the bank to pay my Bills, Bills, Bills in that thing?"

Here's hoping. OH! The funniest thing of all - Bravo kept their sponsors! Oh, really Lifetime? You thought you were gonna get Tresemme? We think not!

I can hear Tim Gunn now. "Designers, I'm sending in your models. You are to send them to the Mane & Tail hair salon..."


Is It Just Us...?

Or does this picture look just a smidge familiar...

We wonder if they have Kiddie Spinning Classes at Promises?

Good luck, anyway, Lila.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

"MySpace: A Place for Hates it" by Nicole

OK, to be clear, I don't know this chick. I just Google Imaged "MySpace Whore" and her picture happened to be among the first 10 results. And, to boot, it's hilarious. Win-Win.

Ah, MySpace. Where do I begin? Now, be aware, this is not going to be the commonly seen "I'm a Facebook convert so now MySpace can suck it" blog. This has nothing to do with Facebook. It has to do with the fact that MySpace has gone from a social networking tool to a social network for tools. Somehow, the lines got blurred and it is now THE source for hooking up with virtual strangers.

MySpace: A Place for Pussy.

I've pulled out. No pun intended. I'm almost mid-twenties, I can't be associated with these cyber sluts and the men who love to catch the clap from them. I mean, co-authoring a controversial and all-around offensive public blog is one thing, but's too much.

So, alas, you won't find this face on the 'Space.

But, not to worry. I can still be reached for hookups via text.

Monday, May 4, 2009

HATES IT: Seasonal Merch in Retail Stores

Don't get us wrong, we love a good sale.  And with the sagging economy (what sagging economy? ugh, we're over it too) sales are more and more frequent.  Loves it.  However, and we're sure we're not alone here, we hate having such a small window to capitalize on these amazing deals.

For example, Tregg still loses sleep over a Calvin Klein leather moto cross jacket circa 2005 that was on sale for $60, originally priced $270 that was in his size but he did not buy.  After realizing this grave error, he returned to the store only to find said outerwear to be gone.  Of course.

For another example, Nicole... well the examples are plentiful, let's say.  Girl never met a sale she didn't loves.

But the other thing we hates is how seasons dictate what our favorite stores carry.  That cashmere sweater you saw in February but couldn't bring yourself to buy?  Well, it's March, and some other bitch is wearing it now.  Those brown Marc Jacob flip flops you didn't buy because you have some DKNY ones, but are now realizing that you foolishly bought those too one?  Just us?  Well, those MJ flips are now in white and black only and in bright accent colors like green and blue.

Dear Retailers,

We understand the capitalism drive to sale price your items and to only stock certain merch for a limited amount of time.  But we are still mourning the loss of jackets, shoes, purses, and sunglasses that someone else is wearing and probably not looking as good as us in.

Sincerely hates it,