Nifty Thrifty

Well, I didn't find any $5 DVF dresses like I was hoping (stupid optimism always leaving me with failure and sadness!), but I would call the trip a solid success.

I'm trying out a new life motto called, "Don't buy shit you won't wear," so my haul is about half the size of the truckloads I used to direct out of the thrift store and into my closet (where they remain). But here it is:


--Ann Taylor Loft denim skirt
--Stretch black mini from The Limited
--Two vintage scarves
--Bronze heels by Michael Kors

My grand total? About $20. Didn't I tell you that thrift stores are worth the work and questionable smells?

The shoes, which I had been eyeing for many moons at their real life price of $120, were brand new with tags and only $4.50! I'm stoked to wear them now with layered slips and later with tights and sweater dresses and dramatic coats. Perhaps another forest photoshoot is in order?

Today, We Thrift.

Today my mom and I are making a pilgrimage to a thrift store with more square footage than my hometown. I will be back shortly, hopefully lugging a large mass of discounted treasure, and I'll be sure to tell you (read: brag incessantly) all about it.

Love and Kisses,
Winona

p.s. My friend Lydia just started a blog yesterday that is already gorgeous and cultured and interesting (just like her, and she also has really good hair). Keep an eye on it, because if it's good as a cute lil' rookie blog, it's gonna rock pretty damn hard as it matures.
p.p.s.s. Ambika, I think you'll really enjoy her taste.

My See-Through Life

To be honest, I wasn't that thrilled when my great aunt presented me with three see-through handbags that had been sitting in her closet for around thirty years. Don't get me wrong; I normally love kooky retro accessories, but I'd always felt that clear purses, like sanitary napkin belts, were an idea best left in history.

But one fateful day about a week ago, there was an unfortunate granola bar explosion in my usual purse. Its understudy, a bright green flower-printed BCBG bag, clashed horribly with my outfit and I was already twenty minutes late. In a panic, I dumped the contents of the soiled purse into one of the clear bags on the floor and headed out the door.

Little did I know that this decision would change my life in a number of ways. I shall describe them in a melodramatic fashion here:

I now lead a life of color and versatility. My love for wild accessories had sort of forced me into dressing around my purses. It's tough to add a giant patent yellow handbag to an already colorful outfit and not look like Mimi Bobeck. Therefore, I found myself wearing a lot of black.

But my clear purse goes with everything. Like Predator, it takes on the look of its surroundings, making that fire engine red tanktop or crazy Pucci-print mini dress totally wearable.

I now lead an honest life. No more do I cram my squalor and disorganization behind a creamy leather facade and walk around as if I were a tidy, functional adult. Nope. Now the contents of my purse, and therefore my personality, are right out there, unedited, unashamed. In the words of Cosmo Kramer, "I'm out there, Jerry, and I'm lovin' every minute of it!"

This is me.

I now lead a life that encourages collaboration. The other day after I got my hair cut, I made my way to the front desk and started digging for the salon gift certificate my boyfriend had given me for Christmas. I had my giant purse on the counter and was about to launch into my little tee-hee-how-did-that-receipt-from-1998-get-in-here? shtick that I do in order to fool cashiers into thinking I'm more charming than annoying (it rarely, if ever, works), when the woman at the desk pointed to the left corner of my clear bag.

"Are you looking for this?" she said.

I turned the purse around to see what she was talking about, and sure enough, there was my gift certificate, pressed up against the clear plastic. "Yes! Oh my gosh, thank you!"

We both smiled. A messy purse can make for a lonely existence, but a clear purse can turn a potential enemy into an eager teammate.

If you're one of the three other people in the world who don't hate see-through bags with a fiery passion and are interested in making the clear choice (heh. heh.), here are some options for you:

An excellent starter model. Very vintage and cute.
See Thru Coin Purse, $4.99, here.

I think this one is just adorable:

Clear Tote, $26.80, forever21.com

Adi Designs Ebisu Collection Clear Satchel, $39.99, overstock.com

No matter how much you despise this trend, a see-through cosmetics pouch is one incarnation that actually makes a lot of sense, since locating a certain eyeshadow can often prove as difficult as finding the meaning of life:

$4.99, here.

If you're reeeaaaalllllyyy into the clear bag thing, you could go with Chanel:

But you probably shouldn't. Sure I love transparent bags, but two grand for some plastic, chain, and a logo is a bit steep (and by "a bit steep," I mean, "fuckin' crazy.").

Martin's Inanimate Dream Dates

Tall, thin, furry, shiny...

I believe it was Shakespeare who said, "O! My heart swells with lust! If only these boots were raccoons!"

XOXO,
Martin

UGG Metallic Classic Tall, $160, shopbop.com

Five Men's Fashion First Impressions: Adorable Profanity-Laden Edition

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the $358 Marc by Marc Jacobs mouse shoes:

My mom and I were cooing over a picture of these (c'mon, how could you not love those little ears??) when we turned to each other and said, in unison, "I wonder what a guy would think of these." Lucky for us (and you), we didn't ask a guy, we asked five:

Brother, Age 11: Ratlike. Whiskers are kind of cute. I've never seen whiskers on shoes. Looks like a cat toy.

Brother, Age 17: I'm missing Bourne Supremacy right now. They're fucking mice. Why do I even care?
Editor's note: Jesus, what crawled up his ass?

Brother, Age 20: I actually really like them. They're great. I would wear them.

Father: (Sighs) I knew it had to happen sooner or later.

Boyfriend: Looks like what a third grader would do to her mom's nice new shoes. I mean, they would be nice without the mouse parts. (Tries to conceal a grin)
Me: I'm calling you out. I think you think they're adorable!
Boyfriend: No, no I don't!
Me: Yes you do.
Boyfriend: (Pause and more grinning) So they're kind of adorable...OK, they're pretty fuckin' cute.


So, which profanity-anchored sentiment do you believe best describes these babies--"Pretty fuckin' cute" or "They're fucking mice."? I'm fuckin' excited to hear what you think!

p.s. Sorry if this was the day that you were like, "Grandma, come sit by me and we'll read this wholesome lil' website together!"

Blogback Mountain

Remember Grandpa Joe from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory? Now he's a fashion icon.

Ambika makes the excellent point that armpits and beverages should be mutually exclusive.

Tom Ford keeps it classy.

I just bought a load of kneesocks that I thought were the cutest things EVER. But I think that these might be cuter. Damnit.

"I'm in my 30's and is this skirt too short for a woman such an age?" Heelllllll no!

On the Fringe

Sorry if I've been a sub-par blogger lately. I've been distracted by social engagements, another writing project, and these:

Yep, I went a little crazy on Wednesday and got bangs (or "fringe," as I believe you adorable Brits call it), and I've been staring at the mirror for approximately 23 hours a day ever since, trying to get used to the new look and/or resorting to drastic measures to make them stay the hell down.

Because you see, as cute as they may look in the above picture (not to brag), that was the professional version, with lots of drying and straightening and spraying and gelling. I was so happy with that version, I nearly cried. But then I returned to the real world, went to sleep, and woke up to find that my hair naturally falls more like this:

No Ben Stiller bodily fluids necessary. And now I'm nearly crying for a different reason.

But anyway, I'm working to make peace with my hair and planning to get back in the blogging groove and churn out some of the Greatest Posts Ever Written (way to set yourself up for failure, Winona). I've also been getting the Five Men revved up (they're divas and need some prep time), so look for a new FMFFI soon, and email me if you found something you'd like them to review!

Right now, I'm off to buy rubber cement (I lied about the whole "making peace with my hair" thing--I'm just stepping up the artillery).

I know I was.

Were you totally disappointed when you found out that 18-hour bras don't, in fact, self-destruct?

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...a podcast!

Do you yearn to look great on a college student's budget? Do you sit at home wondering what my voice sounds like? Do you think Safety Dance is the single greatest song ever recorded?

Then you definitely need to check out Daddy Likey's first podcast! Click on the link below to listen. I put some work into this, and while I can't guarantee it will change your life (although it likely will), I can guarantee you will be entertained.

Hope you enjoy!

How to Look Good in College Without Draining Your Entire Financial Aid Account and Ruining Your Future

Here are links to the sites I mention in the podcast:

Ebay
We Love Colors
Sock Dreams
Delias
Alloy
LuLu's Fashion Lounge
Etsy
J. Crew

And Ira Glass, every time the phone rings, I'll be hoping it's you.

High Fashion Haiku

I'm not sure I could
wear a pair of shoes that have
better hair than me.

Well-coifed booties, $998.95 (plus the cost of haircuts), zappos.com

"I love gooooollllllddd!"*

A short while ago, when I posted pictures of my therapeutic new dress (along with purple tights and gold high heels), the lovely Tiff posed a couple questions:

Why are you in the forest??
Also? I need gold shoes! Can you just post those??

Well, I pretty much bought the dress just to wear in the forest.

Now, let's get to the shoes.

I'm glad you've come to realize you need gold shoes, Tiff, because everyone needs gold shoes. I have a few different pairs that I wear the hell out of. They're versatile and flattering and add a little pizazz to even the most basic outfits.

The pair I was wearing in my somewhat baffling forest photo shoot were these Seychelles heels, which I stare at more than I actually wear, but I feel they qualify as art so it's OK:

I originally took a picture of my feet in the shoes, but the wall behind me was really dirty and my feet were all scarred up from a recent hiking trip and when I loaded the pictures onto my computer my boyfriend said they looked like they were taken in a crack den. So I decided against that.

Anyway, here are some options for anyone who has yet to make the life-changing leap into the realm of gold footwear:

So. damn. cute.
MIA "Venice," $75, zappos.com

These look like they would be about as comfortable as a medieval torture device, right?

Wrong! I actually have this exact pair, and they are some of the comfiest shoes I own. Give 'em a couple wearings to stretch out and you can do some substantial walking in these babies. One of my favorite outfits is these, teal tights, a denim mini-skirt, and a baggy black V-neck men's t-shirt.
MIA "Drew," $64, zappos.com

These would look equally good with jeans, a dress, skirt, potato sack, etc:

Nine West "Gaffer" Metallic Pump, $79, nordstrom.com

I've been looking for a pair of gold ballet flats (at the risk of sounding like a spoiled shoe hoarder, I have red, pink, and black patent leather so far and I wear them to death). This type with the flexible back are super-comfy:

"Fairytales are True" Ballerina, $38, urbn.com

When I first saw these shoes, I thought they were kinda dorky:

But then I stared at them for like twenty minutes (I toootttaaallllyyy had better things to do, I just chose not to), and now I think they're adorable. And if that's not a half-assed endorsement, I don't know what is. Sorry Calvin.
Calvin Klein "Cece" Flat, $70, nordstrom.com

To be as eloquent as possible here: Mmmmmm....

I'd wear these with a flouncy purple dress and black tights and oh my god how cute would that be?
Tribeca "Grand Central" Sandal, $55, nordstrom.com

*LOL! Will Goldmember jokes ever get old?? What's that? They were already old like five years ago? Oh. Damn.

Blogback Mountain

I'm pretty sure Lyndsey wrote this post about me.

I read Ellen Barkin's 10 Rules for Life After 50 in O Magazine and got pissed. Gala read it and got pissed too. And then she wrote a list that's a hell of a lot better.

Ambika over at The Fray has totally hit her blogging stride recently (meanwhile, I'm writing as a beaver...). So go read this post. And this one. And this one.

It would be way too easy to spend way too much money this week, what with the temptation of the LuLu's Fashion Lounge discount offered to Daddy Likey readers, and Shop Diary has a sweet deal as well with 20% off everything at StandardStyle.com.

Do you consider yourself an expert at estimating how many fashion magazines fit in a backpack? I know I do. Then get your ass to La Petite Fashionista for a chance to win a gorgeous new Jansport bag!

I have a huge girl crush on Queen Michelle. Check out these rad outfits and you will too.

When Beavers Blog

Hi.
Woodrow here. Remember me?

I thought you might enjoy a list of my top shoe picks. I've found a whole bunch of different styles to suit any taste. My favorite taste is wood. I've also included my expert commentary for all you fashion novices out there:

These look really good.

Very filling.

The leather is kind of ruining these for me.

Mmmmmmm...

Cordially,
Woodrow

All shoes from netaporter.com. From top: Bottega Veneta, Kors by Michael Kors, Derek Lam, Kors by Michael Kors

p.s. If you're, say, an editor at the New York Times, and you've decided to stop by the site on today of all days, and you're totally judging me right now, I implore you to read a couple more posts before you exit in a huff, declaring, "This is preposterous! Beavers don't read Vogue!"

p.p.s.s. I just realized the next post down has the word "Chocha" in the title. So nevermind. I'm doomed.

Don't Show-cha Your Chocha: Volume III

That's right, it's the moment you've all been waiting for: The third installment of Don't Show-cha Your Chocha!

First up, DSYC VIP (how ya doin' on acronyms so far?) Amber, who scouted out numerous celebrities engaging in high-risk, high-hemline behaviors. I have compiled her findings into the lovely Don't Show-cha Your Chocha collage below, which you're welcome to print out, frame, and hang above your mantle:

Kate Moss (the two photos on the left) is especially impressive. I mean, think of where you normally wear your belt. Now think of chopping off all fabric below said belt, and going about your daily life naked from the waist down. I salute her courage.

Says eagle-eyed reader Laura: I was browsing Active Endeavors, lookin' for a new summer dress to take on vacation, and there is chocha APLENTY, let me tell you. The worst offender:

God she looks uncomfortable. But I guess I would too if I was forced to employ some serious arm strength to hold the hem of my dress below my chocha while my photo was being taken for display on a hugely popular shopping website.

From Nordstrom:

Says Claire: Ah yes, the artfully placed hand technique. Quite a popular one, or so I've heard.

I've often employed this technique when sitting down in a mini skirt, but when you have to use it in the standing position, you've got a problem.

Maya found these photos, in which the model is totally owning both high-risk ensembles, don't you think?

I think she deserves a standing ovation (standing, of course, to respect the fact that she can't sit down).

One of the old standbys for DSYC, American Apparel presents us with this...it hurts to say it...."dress:"

Says Tamara, who claims she's not good at being funny but is totally lying: This is probably one of the best examples I've seen. She's got the crossing-the-legs tactic, the casually-covering-the-crotch-region technique, and the "don't fuck with me, I'm concentrating" look all at once. All I have to say is props, mad props (for not.. y'know, showing it).

Couldn't have said it better myself.

And finally, I got an email from reader Bernie with the title, "Showcha!!! EXTREME!" and, well, homegirl wasn't lying:

Yeah, I don't think a comment from me is really needed here.
Picture via Go Fug Yourself.


If you don't see your DSYC submission yet, don't worry, your hard work has not been forsaken. I'm posting them in the order I receive them, and if the wait seems excruciating, it's only because I'm following the first rule of blogging and dating: Always leave them wanting more.

Speaking of which, I'm always wanting more Don't Show-cha Your Chocha submissions! Stay vigilant, and email your finds to daddylikeyblog@gmail.com

An Open Letter to Tyra Banks

Dear Tyra,

Today I ate a banana, a candy bar, a piece of banana bread and an iced tea from Starbucks over the course of about an hour. Contrary to popular belief, eating twenty tons of sugar like this is a really bad idea, and I wound up on the couch with a major case of Ooginess (the medical term).

But that's not why I'm writing this letter (that would be a really sad reason to write a letter). You see, I find your show wildly entertaining, but I'm usually too busy to watch TV at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Today, however, the mutiny in my stomach incapacitated me at the perfect time to settle in and get my Tyra fix. Life was good. (Well, except for my burbling insides...)

The subject of today's show was body image, and the negative body image of very young girls, specifically. You spoke with a group of girls, ages 5-11, who hate their bodies. "My thighs are so fat," one ten-year-old growled, pinching the skin of a teeny tiny leg. "Nobody likes me because I have freckles," whispered another. It's beautiful when your ribs show, they all agreed.

Just as the discussion hit its emotional climax--you're crying, the girls' mothers are crying, the audience is crying, etc.--the show cut to a commercial comprised of dramatic close-ups of models' bodies. Stylishly cut video clips of protruding ribs, razor-sharp cheekbones, and wrist-sized thighs parading down the runway were set to thumping techno music. The word "FASHION" flashed every few seconds.

This commercial was so unbelievably out there in terms of glamorizing super-skinny bodies, I figured it was part of the show: a learning moment, if you will. Instead, your heavily made-up face appeared within the ad. "America's Next Top Model," you said sultrily into the camera.

This is when I changed the channel. Divorce Court was good today.

See, Tyra, as much as I appreciate you listening to these girls and lecturing their mothers and chastising the big, bad media, well, you're the media. And no matter how inspiring you were on one of your shows today, you have another show, a more successful show, that is all about superficial perfection.

A lot of mothers watch your talk show, and a lot of them probably talked to their daughters about body image tonight, which is great. But a lot of young girls watch America's Next Top Model, and a lot of them probably pinch their thighs and curse their freckles and desperately wish for visible ribs as a direct result of what they see on that show, which sucks.

I'm not sure if you acknowledged this irony later in the show (by that time I was on to Judge Christina), but if you didn't, I ask that you think long and hard about the two juxtaposing messages you're putting out into the world, and find a way to reconcile them into a consistent and positive one.

Oh, and do it quick, cuz your show's way better than Divorce Court.

Love and Kisses,
Winona

p.s. Just in case you think I'm putting too much blame on you, don't worry, I gave Us Weekly some too.

Designer Fashion DIY

Want to score a pair of these sweet Evisu jeans (price: $550), but don't have the cash? Not to worry! Here are three easy steps to get the look for less!

1. Buy a pair of cheap jeans.
2. Find a bench with a "WET PAINT" sign.
3. Sit.

Shop, my children, in the name of Daddy Likey!

Sorry for the Daddy Likey-free Friday. I spent part of the day playing outside (it's so gorgeous in Oregon right now), and the rest of the day sneezing (it's also so pollen-y in Oregon right now), and wasn't able to get an allergy break long enough to write something worthwhile.

I do have a fun weekend surprise for you, though! Just because you're brilliant, beautiful, and fashionable enough to read Daddy Likey, LuLu's Fashion Lounge is offering you 15% off EVERYTHING on the site (even sale items)--shoes, dresses, coats, jewelry, whatever! Type in "daddylikey" at checkout through September 10th for some great deals.

Here are a few of my picks to get you started:

Amen to that.
Zad Hammered Peace Sign Earrings, $7 with Daddy Likey discount

I. am. so. buying. this:

Lush Heather Dress, size large, about $25 with Daddy Likey discount

Sweet mother of God these are adorable! Or, should I say, "Plaid is rad?"

Sugar Princess Grace Tartan Red Plaid Mary Jane, $48 with Daddy Likey discount

In real life, I hate the ferris wheel. On a cute tote bag, I love the ferris wheel:

Funtote Ferris Wheel Tote, $17 with Daddy Likey discount

And finally, I think Jesus would appreciate this:

Lucy Paris Super Short Mini Skirt, about $23 with Daddy Likey discount

So go forth, my lovelies, and shop!

Confessions of a P.E. Drama Queen

So, I don't know about you, but I didn't really enjoy junior high P.E.

My gym teacher was a documented (well, at least in my mind) sadist who would force us out to the track for long runs in the summer heat, set up a lawn chair and a glass of lemonade for himself, and say things like, "Sorry, I can't record your mile time because I only have a stopwatch, not a sun dial," as we limped by (and by "we," I mean, "I"). Looking back, maybe he was kind of clever, but still, I spent many hours of my adolescence organizing an anti-hustle movement (the very successful Ten-Minute Mile club) and searching for legal precedents for suing over forced physical activity (never did find anything).

Even now, whenever I see someone running (fairly often, since I live in Oregon, and we, like, invented running), I take it as a personal affront. "OK!" I lament at the sight of a jogger at a crosswalk, "I get it! You're better than me! You can run more than fifty feet without needing a lung transplant and only the right parts of you are bouncing and I'M SO SLOW! I know you're laughing on the inside, you vile beast!"

Of course, the jogger never acknowledges the pain she is causing me, and simply continues on her ponytail-swinging path of self-esteem destruction. But that's just how joggers are.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm averse to all exercise--quite the contrary--it's just jogging that causes me to regress into an insecure, 13-year-old puddle. Yes, I should probably get some therapy for that, but in the meantime, cute workout gear is always helpful.

In fact, super-cute 70's style running shorts have been popping up everywhere lately, and they almost (almost) make me want to go for a little jog:

I actually bought a pair of these in a way cuter bright blue color (shown here--click on "Just Blue It"), planning to become a famous (and fashionable) marathon runner within a few weeks. I put some Timbaland on my Ipod, did a couple stretches, ran about fifty feet and decided to screw that idea. Now I wear them to class with black leggings underneath, a white ribbed tank, and sporty sandals, and pretend I just came from the gym. Look cool, no sweat (literally). Heh. Heh.
New Balance "Kaya" Women's Running Short, $28, newbalance.com for locations

Pretty simple, yes, but you gotta love the classic shape, and the splash of purple is adorable.
Women's "Response" Split Shorts, $28, adidas.com

I've seen these Nike ones in multiple stores and on multiple celebrities, and they never fail to induce a jealous growl. I just think they're beautifully designed, really flattering, and come in a great array of colors (the black on black is especially cool).
Nike "Tempo" Track Shorts, $28 (am I seeing a trend here?), nordstrom.com

If you're in need of some workout inspiration, I encourage you to head out and try some cute new shorts. But hustle it up--don't make me get my sun dial.

Wow.

For all those times you've stared at a gorgeous pair of Christian Louboutin heels and thought, "Something's missing here...hmm...what could it be? Oh yeah! TEETH!"

Green Python "Pesce" Pumps, on sale for $800 (Jesus H. Christ!), bluefly.com

The Long-Awaited, Overly Specific, and Probably Really Unhelpful Self-Tanning Guide

Pretty much everyday, I find myself reading a new self-tanning guide in some form of periodical (fashion magazine, newspaper, emergency landing informational pamphlet on an airplane, etc), and all of these self-tanning guides hail themselves as the new and unmatched self-tanning Gospel, but they always say the exact same thing as the guide I read the day before--Be sure to exfoliate for 40 days and 40 nights before getting near a bottle of tanner, ladies!--and not much else, and god I'm just so sick of them.

But just in case you haven't read one today, here's my lazy, unpretentious, unexfoliated, way-too-much-information, normal person self-tanning guide:

--I take showers at night, and only tan my legs after shaving, which I like to think is the same as exfoliating my legs without the actual add-on of another shower chore (I spend most of my time in the shower excitedly brainstorming essay ideas, so I don't have time for all that other stuff).

--After I get out of the shower, I moisturize my face, and rub a bit of moisturizer into my knees and ankles. This helps me avoid the dreaded Brown Joint Syndrome. --I put on some cute undies (too much info yet? don't worry, it gets worse) I don't mind lounging around in for awhile, then apply self-tanner to my legs (for my brand recommendations, click here). I'm actually not too careful around my knees, as I feel I have taken all necessary precautions with the pre-moisturizing. Well, that and I am lazy.

--I then do a really unflattering crab-style walk (my thighs really enjoy each other's company and all, but like hell they're gonna mess up my tan) to the nearest sink and wash my hands immediately to avoid the stained palm look that Lindsay Lohan was constantly rockin' about a year ago. --Finally, I crab walk back to my bedroom, grab a mindless magazine, and plunk down onto the bed for about a half hour to chill and dry (sure, the good tanners dry in five minutes or less, but it's an excuse to hang out in cute undies and read tabloid trash). My extremely professional and alluring strategy to not smear my tan in this process is to plop down on the bed on my back--a substantial plop, straight to back from standing position, the kind that lifts your legs up in the air--and then slowly lower my legs down, knees bent slightly, so just the untanned bottoms of my feet are touching the bed (You might want to put away your $1200 Egyptian sheets if you are attempting the bed plop, just in case). It all looks extremely graceful (not) and sounds kind of dirty written out, but I swear that this method has left me with many a successful leg tan.

--After allowing my tan to dry and getting all caught up on the new ways Britney is ruining her children's lives, I go to bed like a schoolgirl on Christmas eve, super-excited to wake up in the morn with a golden glow!

So there you go. One of the most unhelpful self-tanning guides ever written, to be sure, but you can't say it wasn't original.

p.s. Does anyone else have a weird self-tanning ritual, or is it just me?

Well, me and this guy...

We're Gonna Need A Bigger Closet

From Lucky's September cover:

971 ABSOLUTE MUST-HAVES

p.s. Lucky, I'm only so hard on you because I know your potential. You're like the smart kid in math class who doesn't do her homework because she's too busy hyphenating things.

The Fashion Gods Do Exist!

And here's how I know:

My best friend since second grade, the one I married (well, I didn't, like, marry her...god I hate explaining this) just a month ago, moved to LA on Saturday to go to grad school. Predictably, I've been in the throes of depression ever since, self-medicating with Fruity Pebbles and muttering, "Why? Whyyyyy??" over and over again.

On Sunday, I decided a better cure for BFF withdrawal would be some good ol' fashioned consumerism, so I headed to the last day of the Nordstrom Half-Yearly Sale. I was looking for a comfortable, versatile silk minidress that I could wear year-round, and sweet mother of Jesus did I hit the jackpot: a fab silk French Connection dress I had been eyeing online for, oh, I don't know, ETERNITY, in stock, in my size, and on sale for 99 bucks.

A bit more than I'm used to spending, yes, but a small price to pay to bring a little happiness (and finger guns) back into my life:

Dress: French Connection Satin Shift Minidress
Necklace: Vintage belt (many antique stores sell amazing chain belts from the 70's for just a few bucks, and they make pretty badass necklaces)
Best Tights Ever: Nylon/Lycra Microfiber in Violet from We Love Colors (Buy a pair. now.)
Gold Heels: Seychelles (Best worn in the forest, for sure)

Blogback Mountain

Cuffington comes face to face with a walking, bluetoothing, latte-drinking California stereotype.

Speaking of lattes, ever heard of a Ghetto Latte? Hell, ever made a Ghetto Latte? Check out Lyndsey's blog to find out.

Please Don't Feed the Models, a blog I've just recently discovered and totally love (even though her blog title makes my blog title seem totally lame, damnit) tried Sally Hansen Airbrush Legs--it's sort of like industrial strength self-tanner--and loved it.

Queen Michelle over at the Kingdom insists that you do not need a horse to wear breeches.

Hello, Lover presents one of the most intriguing reasons to forgo Crocs that I've heard yet, and it involves fire ants.

Cutest. Picture. Ever.

High Fashion Haiku: Actually, I'd Look Way Worse

If I had to pose
in zip-up shortalls with wings
I'd look like this, too.

Development Short Overalls, on sale (can you believe it??) for $80, Shopbop.

p.s. Don't worry--the continuation of the tanning guide is coming soon. I always get a bit bored with long, continued blog topics, so I thought I'd break it up a bit. Plus, I don't want to lose my happily pale/naturally bronze readers, who were surely thinking, "Enough with the damn sun care!"

If This Post Was an Article in a Fashion Mag, It Would Be Titled, "Fakin' It," Which is Annoying

"So," you say, "if I use proper sun protection all the time, I won't be able to get a tan. Is there any way to get golden bronzed skin without actually tanning?"

Well, my friend, first I'd like to welcome you out of the cave you've been living in for the past five years. You missed some pretty good stuff. Let's see...Britney went crazy...umm...Tom Cruise went crazy too...umm...ooh! Nicole Richie is pregnant! Yeah, I think that's pretty much it. Oh wait! I almost forgot the most important thing: Fake tanning was invented!

Now, fake tanning is a lot like The Force. In good hands, it is a wonderful thing that makes your legs look smooth and skinny and doesn't give you skin cancer (sadly, the perks don't include being able to move things with your mind, but I'm sure L'Oreal is working on that). But in the wrong hands, oh my, it is a streaky, scary-orange mess that threatens to dominate the world. Christina Aguilera is on the Dark (orange) Side:


If you are strong of will and ready to begin self-tanning training, here are a few that are, in my experience, as wonderful as Obi Wan, and a few that suck as much as Darth Sidious (I've tried all of the following tanners on my legs--I advise leaving any whole body bronzing to the experts):

The Good

My fave? Neutrogena Instant Bronze Streak-Free Foam:

I'm in love with this tanner. It has bronzer built in that you can see right away before the real (well, fake real...umm, you know what I mean) tan develops. The color is fantastic--dark enough to hide cellulite (yes, really), light enough to avoid looking like Carrot Aguilera up there. It dries extremely quickly. This recommendation is a bit complicated, however, as this is probably not the best product for self-tanning novices. While the instant bronzer lets you see exactly where you've tanned, the quick-drying foam can be a bit difficult to master. I guess my recommending this is sort of like a car enthusiast recommending a Maserati: it's a good car to be sure, but you should probably learn to, like, drive a stick shift before you start thinking about getting one.
About $9, available here.

L'Oreal Sublime Bronze Self-Tanning Lotion:

Great color, great price, and so easy to use. Just smooth it on like a lotion and your tan will magically develop over the next couple hours. You don't get to see exactly where you've tanned like you can with the Neutrogena foam, but it's pretty hard to mess up with this one, so it's OK. $7, available here.

Jergens Natural Glow Daily Moisturizer:

This stuff received Tickle Me Elmo-caliber hype awhile back, and in my experience, it very nearly lives up to all that excitement. This is different from other self tanners in that you use it as a moisturizer everyday, and within about a week you have a nice, natural tan built up. It's basically impossible to end up streaky or orange. Personally, I find the slow-and-steady method a bit boring (I'm an all-or-nothing type of gal), but this is really great for the more rational and cautious self-tanners out there.
$6, available here.

The Bad

Neutrogena MicroMist Tanning Sunless Spray:

A spray tan at home is awesome in theory. In practice, not so much. Maybe I'm a clumsy dumbass (possible), but the "MicroMist" was more like the "Concentrated Blast of a Pressure Washer," leaving me with large, wet, spray-tanned spots that I had to rub in to avoid looking pronouncedly diseased (all this while the bottle brags, "no rub application"). Plus, have you ever tried to spray something on your own back, completely evenly? Yeah, there's a reason for that: It's impossible.

L'Oreal Sublime Bronze Tinted Self-Tanning Lotion:

There's only one word (tinted) that separates this stuff from the Sublime Bronze on the Good list, but somehow that one word is enough to make this one stay sticky for way too long. I will say that the color is very pretty--a slightly shimmery caramel--but it's still not worth the sticky factor for me.

Lancome Soleil Self-Tan for Legs Flash Bronzer:

This stuff actually works really well, and has great color; I'm just putting it on the "Boooo!" list because it is basically identical to the L'Oreal Sublime Bronze (hmm...I wonder why? It's not like they're owned by the same company or anything...), but costs four times as much for less product. And the bottle's not even cute. So there.

Coming Up: A self-tanning guide for lazy people who hate exfoliating (that's not just me, right?)