I Hate Jennie Garth

It’s 11:36 on Sunday night. I got in bed at 9:00. Not only am I unable to fall asleep, but also I am unable to find anything watchable on television, which means I’m watching Jennie Garth. I just decided that I HATE Jennie Garth. Not only has Jennie Garth always been pretty, but she’s gotten to wear like, a zillion wedding gowns without having to ACTUALLY get married (on both 90210, in an ill-fated wedding to Brandon, and on What I Like About You, in an ill-fated wedding to some other guy, I never watched this show so I don’t know his name). Wearing wedding gowns and not ACTUALLY getting married is MY dream. It will never happen, unless I convince my friend Heather to let me borrow her engagement ring so I can try on gowns. But that would be pathetic, wouldn’t it? No, it wouldn’t. Because, you see, I wouldn’t be pretending I was getting married because of the whole marriage thing, but rather, because I like wearing fancy clothes. What is fancier than a wedding gown? Nothing. It’s no secret among my friends that I’m not sure I actually want to get married, and I think the main reason most women do get married is because we can’t refuse a good party and an awesome outfit. If I got engaged, and was given a gorgeous gown instead of a diamond ring, the actual wedding would likely never occur. I would have already gotten what I came for. This is one of two pictures I could find of Kelly and Brandon’s didn’t-happen wedding, and I couldn’t even find ONE of the WILAY wedding, which proves the insignificance of both shows.
There’s not much to envy about the Kelly dress. My arms would look ginormous in those cap sleeves. But, she’s playing with a Marilyn Monroe look here, and I think that would be sort of fun.

The WILAY wedding dress was huge and poofy, traditional, and ultimately, ridiculous.


Like: I would never wear something like this if I actually got married, but I’d love to just wear it, around my apartment while I did the dishes or something. Or preferably, while someone else did the dishes and I twirled around my living room singing old Shirley Horn tunes. Pointless Shirley plug, listen here:http://www.amazon.com/Heres-Life-Shirley-Horn/dp/B0000046KM (I'm basically a happy and grateful person, despite how I sound right now. I love "Here's to Life.")

If I DID get married, I'd wear something like this:


Kidding! (That's me in my Halloween costume, in case you're wondering. My friends and I were "Britney Spears Through the Years." Side note: Is it charming or pathetic that I'm acting like anyone who doesn't actually know me is reading this blog? Second side note: This is not only a fantastic Halloween costume, but a fantastic idea for a post, which I lay claim to, now.) ANYWAY,whatever I did wear would have a jetpack or something on it, to aid a quick getaway.
According to lovetoknow.com, “During Medieval times, the wedding was more than just a union between two people, in many occasions it was a union between two families, two businesses and even two countries.” This will undoubtedly be the case when my friend Lauren marries the English bloke she’s been shacking up with.

Anyway, what they wore symbolized their class, and was expected to represent both families in the most flattering light. Apparently, there was no alcohol around at these medieval weddings to shatter that image.
I also have an aversion to the veil. Over the face is especially offensive, but I’m beginning to lump the veil in with the assholes who wear tiaras and wings on their wedding days. Yes, I know it’s YOUR DAY, but you’re still not a princess, and you’re certainly not a fucking butterfly.
Shall we examine the origin of the veil? Jennie Garth is still on, so I say, we shall. I get into arguments with my mother over this, which is odd since, currently, the most poignant relationship in my life is between me and my Excedrin Migraine. Let no man put THAT asunder. My mother will be heartbroken when I don’t wear a veil on my wedding day, if such a day ever occurs. She often uses the word “tradition” in her argument. According to Wikipedia (research is boring), “The lifting of the veil was often a part of ancient wedding ritual, symbolizing the groom taking possession of the wife, either as lover or as property, or the revelation of the bride by her parents to the groom for his approval.” This is a wonderful tradition, isn’t it? Not only is it NOT, it’s against everything she ever taught me about feeling obligation to someone else---that I shouldn’t. Unless, of course, that person happens to be her.
This is going to end badly. What’s going to happen? I’m going to have the most untraditional wedding ever, which I’ll still end up running away from, because I equate getting married with my life stopping, even though I have friends who are living, breathing proof that this is not necessarily true. I’m going to play the theme from Super Mario as I walk down the aisle. When I arrive at the alter, I’ll promptly drop down one of those green tubes and move on with my life. Hopefully I won’t have to go through that scary castle, and hopefully, something better than Jennie Garth will be on TV later that night.
Now, for your enjoyment, some of the most ridiculous wedding gowns I could find:

Measurements? I don't give a damn.

While many of you may browse online blogs for more intellectual fare, I NEED Perez Hilton to escape reality for a little while. Just like I need mint Milanos. Like I need Starbucks. Like the deserts miss the rain. What I don't need to know, however, are my "measurements." Come on. Look at poor Scarlett over there. Does SHE look like she wants to be measured in the three areas of the body that like, 99 percent of women obsess over? No. Actually, she kinda looks like she wants to kick somebody in the nuts.

Enter ModCloth, a fashion website specializing in "Mod, retro and indie clothing." (Cue combination sigh/eye-roll from Laura.) But wait! This is not, say a poor-woman's Urban Outfitters. This is like, actually cute-looking stuff; some of it might actually be called GORGEOUS. I mean, yes, alright, some pieces are heinous. But, as Laura pointed out in her most recent post, even Neiman-freakin'-Marcus has its fair share of fashion heinousness.

Also, ModCloth has really awesome names for its stuff, like
its "Tulle There was You," and "Pleats and Thank You" dresses,
or its "Crazy Little Thing Called Glove" (you guessed it) gloves. OK, I'm a dork who clearly just wants to look like Zooey Deschanel if she just happened to guest star on "Mad Men." So sue me.

However, most of the items that I'm drooling over on ModCloth are dresses, but I have no idea what size to order. I don't normally buy clothes online. (When I want something, I can't wait 3-5 business days! I want it NOWWWWWW, DADDY! [And Veruca falls down into the furnace with her golden goose egg!] However, sometimes busy schedules restrict us Fasholes from doing as much "real" shopping as we'd like, so concessions do have to be made.

So, yeah. I have no idea what size dress I am here. They have S/M/L, which just confuses things further, and the only help they offer is a 1-800 number and a chart that you can click on that correlates S/M/L to your measurements. I'm sorry, measurements? What is this, 1865 Savannah? What's next, the triumphant return of the girdle?

OK, I'm done.

On a side note:
Hurrah, Friday is the most psychotic shopping day of the year! Personally, I'd love to find a black peacoat and knee-high black boots on sale. Fasholes, which stores or specific fashion items are you targeting on I-Saw-Them-First-Give-Me-That-Last-Pair-of-70%-Off-Earmuffs-Or-I-Will-Fucking-Kill-You Friday?

Safe shopping to all.


(Above Left: Promise Keeper Dress, $74.99, ModCloth.com; Above Right: Scarlett O'Hara is fucking pissed; Lower Left: Not even worth captioning.)

Blouse Hunters

What fashole hasn't, at some point in her life, dreamed of being trapped in a mall? Such fantasy usually occurs in the young adult years, when you first realize that clothes are so much more than material on a hanger.

Neiman Marcus hosts an event called "Girls Night Out," and it might be the closest you can come to making this dream a reality. There's music, free food, and champagne, and they give you $50 to spend on almost anything you want (cosmetics, fragrances, and children's excluded). For someone who frequents Neiman's, and shops with a sales associate all the time, $50 isn't a lot. But for a fashole like me, who is only invited because she knows someone who's dating someone who's related to someone...well, it's freaking amazing.

Last night, I attended my second Girls Night Out event(at the first, I purchased this amazing Diane Von Furstenberg coat for...count them...$130). This time, the choice was harder: a gorgeous, effortlessly stylish champagne-colored DVF blouse with intricate sleeve detail, or a more practical, wearable gray Splendid wrap that I can dress up or dress down.



VS.




So which one did I choose?




I know! It's fabulous, but I kind of regret it. I really, really still want that DVF blouse. It was more ME. But, this fashole is dangerously close to being penniless, so she went with something more practical, and something that happened to be about $30 cheaper when all was said and done. This is the kind of purchase that reminded me of Jess's recently-blogged about shoes; you will look for something like it, and you'll think it will be an easy find, but it never quite lays right and the metallic will look cheap rather than luxe. I am SO keeping an eye on the blouse though. Sorry I didn't take a picture that shows off the garment more, but I ate a giant sandwich for dinner and I don't feel much like modeling. Also, sorry I didn't get a chance to clean up my apartment before you popped by.

Ok, onto the regular business. Even a store as beautiful and sophisticated as Neiman Marcus has some major WTF moments. I scoured the website looking for this hideous, multi-colored, hangy-weird-circles-dress that I balked at in the store last night. As my friend said, "Even if money were no object, I'd still shop smart." In other words, all the money in the world can't buy you a sense of style. There are certain items that make me think the buyers just want to see what they can get away with. It's comforting to think that someone who has such a cool job also has this slightly nasty sense of humor.

I could not find the dress, but I did find some other questionable items while on the hunt. (Because L-Sass ate a giant sandwich for dinner, she is feeling especially lethargic and has therefore decided to target just one of the offenders this evening.)

The winner:



Mortals, take cover! Dracula's little sister (let's call her Darla) has both a cocktail party and a boxing match scheduled come nightfall. Seriously? Who would pay $425 for this Halloween costume? This looks like Boxing Babe and Devil Girl had a baby (Dracula's sperm, of course).





It even has a drawstring! I think if you could pull out your gloves and your fangs to wear for the same outfit, you need to just put it down. I can't even see this working editorially, unless we're talking about Party City's flyer.

Black is a staple of course, and red happens to be my favorite color, but black and red together is very dangerous, as demonstrated here. When it works, it's bold and sharp and fabulous, but when it doesn't, well, it looks like Darla.

TARGETS: 11/18/09

Sit back, relax and pass the bitchy pills, because I've got a trio of celebrity outfits that I've no choice but to ransack ...


Target 1: Beth Ditto, singer, The Gossip

Honestly, this is so heinous, I don't even know if I want it on the blog, but I just can't resist. The hair color + the dress = fire station. Sound the alarm, because this ensemble needs to be extinguished immediately. Or, if you've had enough of the metaphors, just freakin' burn the thing.

And the hair. So you're a singer for a successful, moderately well-known rock band. I get the whole rebellious "I want to make a statement, I'm tired of being kept down by The Man, ya'll don' know me" thing. Many teenagers do, too. Let me guess: You had to fight with some of them over the last bottle of Manic Panic?

I'm not sure what the belt adds to the outfit; the intricate buckle adds even more to an already over-the-top house of horrors.

Beth, honey, have you ever heard the saying, "I feel as big as a house?" Um, that's not a look you want to actually strive for.


Target 2: Whitney Port, star of ... actr... no, that's not it ... um, what exactly does Whitney do again?

OK, sooo .... the, er, lovely look that Whitney's sporting in this candid pic from CocoPerez is apparently in vogue at the moment: oversized long sweater/potato sack + hideously tight leggings that leave precious little to the imagination. Ladies, please - leave it. No, leave more.

First of all, who proclaimed that leggings will now and forever adequately take the place of pants? I mean, sure, under a dress or skirt and with boots, fine. For extra warmth during those long winter nights in the Alaskan wilderness, of course. But as pants? Consider this: Would you wear tights out in public sans bottoms? (Let's not even talk about patterned leggings, let alone jungle print patterned leggings. Wait, let's.)

According to recent reports, Whitney, you've actually garnered a decent amount of media attention (mostly from such notable websites as www.PerezHilton.com and www.StarsWithoutMakeup.com. After careful calculations, I've decided that unless you're really bad with finances, you have money enough to buy things that are, say, not hideous. GO TO BLOOMINGDALE'S, GIRL! Why, why, WHY would you even take a second LOOK at those hideous things? If the leggings were simply plain black, I'd still have a gripe about the tightness factor, but the, um, orange (?) jungle/floral pattern belongs on a bedspread in an apartment in an adult community in Boca.


Target 3: Leighton Meester, actress, "Gossip Girl"

Ok, so I need to know WTF happened at the American Eagle Outfitters Times Square Grand Opening event. Ashlee Simpson, who donned pale skin, jet-black hair and an outfit to match, looked like she should start chanting, "Boil, boil, toil and trouble." And now this?

First of all, let's face it: neither of these actresses wear clothes from American Eagle. The brand is preppy, blah, and geared toward teenagers with no sense of personal style. It's sort of like the poor man's A&F. I'll keep what I suspect are catty comments re: Ashlee's fashion choices to myself, since at least she's consistent; however, Leighton CAN look fabulous, so I'm dumbfounded by this dominatrix-gone-wrong monstrosity.

And the shoes. Shoes are great in general, but I doubt that the most beautiful pair in the world could've saved this getup. However, somehow, Leighton has defied the laws of nature by making the situation even WORSE by slipping on a pair of ... mules? I mean, do you really want to wear something called a "mule?" Is this a word that YOU want to be associated with? (Then again, do you want to associated with the word "pumps" either?)

That leaves us with the plunging neckline (and the matching black band-aid stretching across it); if you stare at it long enough, it sort of becomes an optical illusion and just looks like a giant "V," which makes me think about the movie "V for Vendetta." All she needs is the "V-mask" - ah, perfect. Now at least she can claim it wasn't her.

I'm not even going to mention the makeup, 'cuz that would just be straight-up bitchy. I mean, you can change your clothes, but man, that's her face.

To look on the bright side, L's hair looks nice wavy and tousled!


KEEP SCROLLING DOWN FOR AN A+ CELEBRITY LOOK. 'Cause it's all about balance, people, balance.


Michelle Trachtenberg, FLAWLESS! Who cares what event she was attending, really. Love the jacket, love the bright burst of aqua and the texture of the top. The necklace, the eye makeup - this look is absolutely made of fashion win. She's even got that perfect ponytail that I will NEVER be able to acheive without the help of a personal stylist and several additional lackeys. Just perfect! Ahhh. I feel so much better now, don't you?

peas out-
your faithful Fashole,
Jess

sweet find: superfab black high heels!

Finding the right pair of black heels is a lot like shopping for black pants. At first glance, it seems like a relatively simple task (it's not like you're looking for a metallic aquamarine bodysuit - but if you actually are, I recommend American Apparel - and that you leave this site immediately), but in reality it can be as difficult and time-consuming as - dare I say it - finding a new pair of jeans, which might as well be scaling Kilimanjaro.

I've been on the market for a pair of black heels since my Nine West pair started eroding and I had to trash them. Now, you may ask, how could a Fashole not own a single pair of black heels!? Well, calm down, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. You see, I really love flats. I own numerous pairs in a variety of colors and enjoy wearing them whenever possible. (Laura prefers heels - the higher, the better!) What can I say? Flats are comfortable, I don't have to constantly worry about falling, and, well, they remind me of the ballet class I was in when I was five.

On the other hand, there's something about a pair of heels that just makes me feel grown-up, sophisticated and sexy, as though I'm quickly making my way down a quiet side-street in Paris on a rainy day, twirling an umbrella or something - except, you know, my hair wouldn't frizz despite the rain. Except then, I trip. SPLAT. And there goes my Parisian fantasy.

Tonight, I took a brief stroll along the Church St. area of Montclair, which is a really relaxing street to shop on, thanks to its eclectic mix of stores. Plus, no cars are allowed on the street, so it's nice and quiet. And, as if that weren't enough, there's finally a Pinkberry clone (Red Mango, maybe?) opening up in this trendy shopping area. I already spend a good amount of time browsing in these shops, especially since Anthropologie (www.anthropologie.com) is on the corner of Church and Bloomfield Ave., and it happens to be one of my fave stores. I'm there on a semi-regular basis, since I happen to know that they reduce regularly priced items and move them into the sale area every Wednesday evening. (Psssssssh, like I could buy clothes at Anthro at full price!) Having this knowledge is totally normal for a Fashole, by the way.

My first stop was tory janes. (The label that they stick on each shopping bag claims to contain "Shoes that make you happy." I have no arguments against this.) Since many of the shops in the Montclair area tend to be small, pricey boutiques, I was uncertain as to whether or not I would find anything reasonably affordable. (By "reasonably affordable," I mean I'll be able to both pay my rent AND eat this month.)

So, I lucked out and found a great pair of black patent-leather pumps (the first pair I tried on) with a heel very much unlike the rest of the footwear collection in my closet. (Go ahead and scoff, Laura, but you should be proud!) At $98, we're not exactly talking bargain basement here, but as for a go-to pair of black heels, well, I'm very excited to wear them with a pair of black Betsey Johnson tights and maybe a black skirt ...

Oh, damn. Next item of business to shop for: plain black skirt.

So even though I've already seen the shoes, I'm still super-excited to take the box out of the bag, and then the shoes out of the box ...

Getting excited!?! You should be!
Check out my Amazon-like shadow, ominously hovering over the box.







These stylish black pumps are available in both patent-leather and suade ($98, tory janes).

www.toryjanes.com
Address: 2 Church St., Montclair, NJ
973-744-6655

Fazes of a Fashole

First, forgive me for the improper use of the letter "F." Creativity is generally shunned upon during my day job, so this is my pathetic way of rebelling.

If you're into fashion, you have probably been watching this lackluster season of Project Runway on Lifetime. Television for Women! Um, excuse me, but Project Runway always has been and always should be television for women, gays, and drama queens.We knew this season would be worse for the wear when Lifetime began airing those ridiculous promos showing contestants stressing over their materials in black and white, and surmising how everything they've pushed for in life has led to this. very. moment. Luckily those god-awful sentimental commercials stopped airing as soon as the show started. But then of course, more trouble began, and it's rather fitting that the best villain that TELEVISION FOR WOMEN! can give us is Irina, who um, gives dirty looks to her competitors (girls are SUCH bitches!) Gone were the zany antics of Santino "What happened to Andre?" Rice and the awesome Kara Saun telling off Wendy Pepper for selling her soul.

Anyway, back on topic: I keep running into this picture of the final 3 that came as a surprise to nobody: Althea Harper, Carol Hannah Whitfield, and Irina Shaba-I'm too lazy to look up her last name right now.

WHY are the final 3 dressed this way?! Did they not realize this was a publicity photo? They remind me of different phases myself as a young fashole, trying to find my way.

Irina appears to be wearing Dora the Explorer's dress-up dress. It's dark brown with pastel flowers on it, is has ruffles (Nikolas, cover your eyes!), and underneath, a green-gray t-shirt from G+G. I guess her traditional father would have been none to pleased if she didn't cover the boobies. This just doesn't make sense to me; Irina has been consistent all season, and is GORGEOUS, I don't mind saying. Frequently, fashion designers dress over the top and weird, and make you go, "Who the F would wear that?!" But this? This is just BAD. She should have ditched the t-shirt, donned a denim jacket and cowboy boots and just gone for it. Her amazing hair would have offset any unkind remarks about looking too costumey.

Althea is me as a high school junior, totally convinced that wearing a leopard-print bra underneath a wifebeater is omgsohot. The fact that the phrase "leopard-print" and "wifebeater" are in the same sentence describing a designer-hopeful is more than troublesome. Althea looks like she lives between the Connors and the Bundys; picture a sash over her shoulder reading Miss Grand White Trash Supreme. Also, it appears that she stole Logan's pants.

Least offensive is my personal favorite for the season, Carol Hannah, who looks kind of like I do when I care but I just don't have enough time. Distressed jeans with a hole WAY up there (nothing like flashing a bit of skinny, pale thigh!) a navy tank, and a thick gold belt. Those belts are pretty much done, aren't they? Although I have to admit, I will still rock that look when I'm feeling especially skinny, because who knows when that opportunity will come again. Also, this season was shot like 5 bajillion years ago. Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that Carol Hannah's belt is not a belt, but a piece of leftover fabric from Mood that she threw on immediately after the loved-'round-the-word Tim Gunn came in and said, "Designers! It's time to shoot the publicity photo for the final 3! Gather 'round!"

Since I'm here, I guess I'll make a prediction for this week's season finale: Irina for the win, Carol Hannah in second, Althea in third. A lot of people don't want Irina to win because she's mean, but let's face it, she has a right to be snotty in this so-called competition. I still hope Carol Hannah wins though, because she really never made anything I didn't like, and she just does the work and stays out of the catfights. Gotta love that.

Welcome to FASHOLES!

FASHOLES! If you've already read the description of our site, then you know why you're here. Clearly, just like us, you're navigating this often-treacherous, occasionally hilarious road called fashion - and you're here to either avoid a wrong turn, or to laugh at those intrepid individuals who've already crashed and burned.

A quick introduction before we begin...

That's us, your trusted co-editors of FASHOLES, on a recent trip to Boston this summer. On your left, you have Miz Laura - absolutely fearless in conquering fashion AND hair, able to track down the best bargains from miles around. At a friends and family discount event at Neiman Marcus, Laura recently purchased a Diane von Furstenberg dress for a price you would not believe! From casual to uber-glam, Laura has quite the collection of fashion items in her possession. Currently, she is cleaning out her closet to make room for more!

Your other co-editor, Jess, has recently abandoned the above look for Zooey Deschanel bangs, but some of her wardrobe selections are as wild as her unruly wavy hair. Okay, so she's no Lady Gaga, but she has been known to pair unexpected pieces, as you'll soon learn. Her tastes range from the preppie to the hipster to the glamour queen; sometimes, her outfits include a bit of all three. A teacher by day, Jess has long refused to don the stereotypical "educator" uniform of stuffy button-down shirts and drab pants; occasionally - especially on casual Fridays - she'll conceal what you'd undoubtedly label a "weekend" or "artsy" shirt or tank underneath a more professional blazer or cardigan. And in the evening, she's ready to .... ummm, rip off that blazer, go home, put her feet up and watch "What Not to Wear."

Laura and Jess both share the same hilariously dry sense of humor about nearly everything, but one of our favorite topics includes fashion - the good, bad and the ugly - hence, FASHOLES was born. Stay tunes, as more bloggers - some from around the world - may join us!

If you're a stuffy, self-proclaimed fashionista perusing our website solely for news on the best D&G sample sales in Manhattan, you're likely in the wrong place. However, if you're interested in fashion and have a killer sense of humor, stay with us. Send us pictures of people wearing denim cutoffs, mom jeans and Crocs. And get ready to laugh ... and also, of course, to be fabulous.

If you stumble upon a funny fashion DON'T, or something Miz J on Project Runway would dub "FABULOUS"; or, if you're interested in posting for us, don't hesitate to contact us at mydadsoldshirt@gmail.com.

Check back for updates soon!

mwah,
Laura & Jess