Dear Daddy Likey: Cold Bodies, Hot Shoes

Dear Daddy Likey,

I have an unusual work situation. I am a funeral director, which means my work wardrobe is pretty limited to mostly black and depressingly conservative. Unfortunately, I have a penchant for shoes. Colorful shoes, high heeled shoes, flats, boots, I just love fun shoes. My work shoes however, need to get me through a day that may include embalming, tromping through cemeteries, and removals of the deceased from hospitals (there is something a little empowering about seeing the security guard's eyes go wide as you lift a very heavy man onto a cot in heels without flinching).

ARE there shoes that can survive a mortuary life? Or will I be doomed to sensible shoes in stark black for the rest of my career? Help!

Sincerely yours,
Funeral Fashionista

Dearest Funeral Fashionista,

First of all, I have to say that this was one of my favorite Dear Daddy Likey inquiries I've ever received. I'd never really thought about the merits of looking sassy while lifting a dead man, but now that you mention it, I totally agree: fun shoes are a must!

I can't really explain why, but my first instinct was to direct you to Fluevog, because the styles are undeniably fun, they're good quality, and look super comfy. Beautiful blogger Sally often sings the praises of Fluevog and look how fabulous she looks:

Ready to tromp through a cemetary! (Sal, you should definitely take that as a compliment.)

Unfortunately, I have never actually worn this brand myself, so I decided to interrogate my friend Sarah, an avowed Fluevog Fan, and see if she could vouch for their comfiness. Our IM conversation is as follows:

Me: Sarah!
Sarah: winona!!
Sarah: it has been forever
Me: I know!
Sarah: i was just advertising your blog to all of my friends!
Me: Did I really interrupt you in the process of blog promotion?? GET BACK TO DOING THAT
Sarah: hahaha no im slightly exaggerating, i was shamelessly advertising yesterday
Me: ok, well good work! i have a question for you
Sarah: yes?
Me: you are a fan of john fluevog shoes, right?
Sarah: oh yes!
Me: how many pair do you have?
Sarah: oh jeez! i dont even know. i have...at least four. my favorites of course are the lime green boots
Me: oh yeah those are SO cute!
Sarah: and they have hearts for heels! i was walking around in the snow making little heart prints
Me: so, are these shoes comfortable?
Sarah: yes definitely
Sarah: well, compared to other fancyflashyfashiony shoes anyway
Sarah: i mean not compared to like loafers or whatever
Me: lol of course
Sarah: but they're pretty squishy and they dont pinch or rub me at all, and they tend to have good toes, not too pointy
Sarah: and good solid heels, not too thin, which is why i can walk in them haha
Me: so i'm gonna list a few situations where you might wear your fluevogs. could you please answer yes or no to indicate if they would be a comfortable shoe choice for the situation?
Sarah: sure
Me: 1. a day of shopping with your lovely sister
Sarah: of course!
Me: 2. waiting tables
Sarah: hm. I'd go with probably not
Me: Interesting. OK, what about moving a corpse?
Sarah: i guess that depends how far you're moving it, but most likely comfortable
Me: lol Sarah this is why i love you.
Me: you don't even miss a beat when i ask if a shoe would be comfortable for moving a corpse

There you have it, folks: Proof that Fluevogs would be comfortable corpse-moving footwear, and that my friends should probably work on being more suspicious.

Here are some specific sassy shoe suggestions. I went for closed toe, not-too-high heels and fun details:

Look up "sassy" in the dictionary and you'd probably find a picture of these. Add them to a somber black ensemble and watch every security guards' eyes widen within a mile radius.

"Helen," $109, here

These are a little spendier, but come on! They look like little bat shoes! Totally goth sexy.

"Lady Ophelia," $179, here

How gorgeous would these boots be with some dark lace tights?

Love the color and bouncy-looking heel.

"Lover," $255, here

These are pretty amazing too. And be sure to check out ebay if you like the shoes but not the price!

Any suggestions from the audience for comfy, cute mortician-approved shoes?

Five Men's Fashion First Impressions (with possible apologies to Romanians)

That's right, it is time once again for Five Men's Fashion First Impressions! (Please click here if you're new to Daddy Likey and don't know what in tarnation I'm talking about.) Today's fashion item was sent to me by my friend Sara, and, well, here it is:

What's that you say? You want a supremely creepy closeup? No problem:

Let's see what the guys have to say, shall we?

Father: What's wrong with those? I have several pairs of underwear that look like that.

Boyfriend: They look really comfortable. I really want to wear them. I have nothing bad to say.

Brother, age 19: Prevent camel toe with these loose-fitting pants! Oh wait, they're just a big vagina.

Brother, age 13: Lots of crotch space. It seems like something you could unfold into a tent on a desert island. More fabric than it actually needs. A waste.

Brother, age 21: Every Romanian I have ever met wears these exact pants. I think this is what Romanians wear.

Can any Romanians speak to this?

In other news...

I have an article in this month's National Geographic about a badass rotating skyscraper. I also wrote the Your Shot page for this issue (it's uncredited, but trust me, I only lie sometimes). Please pick up a copy if you get a chance, and show Nat Geo some love!

A Short Essay About the Importance of a Good Coat

Once upon a time, I had to go to court to dispute a speeding ticket. I was seventeen and had been caught careening down my small town’s main street at 73 miles an hour, on my way to turn in a history paper that, in retrospect, was not important at all. After sobbing to the state trooper about the vital importance of said history paper, I was issued a citation for $250. I felt an immediate rush of panic about telling my dad, combined with excitement about the chance to wear a dramatically demure outfit to court and plead my innocence.


I spent weeks planning a foolproof trial wardrobe and defense. I decided I would wear a cream skirt with flower embroidery, a black shirt with pearl buttons and a rounded collar, black tights, ballet flats, a red vintage scarf, and round sunglasses. I would say that if society wanted to persecute me for striving to be a good student, then I would dutifully pay the price, but I would forever lament the injustice of a legal system that so callously ignored a citizen’s right to life, liberty, and the 73-mile-an-hour pursuit of an A on my essay about the industrial revolution.

The day of my court date, everything went according to plan: my outfit looked great, and my note cards were in order. When I walked out the door, it was chilly and I felt a raindrop, so I ran back inside and grabbed a random coat from the laundry room. This random coat happened to be my mom’s dilapidated fleece pullover, but I didn’t think much of it as I slipped it on and headed to the courthouse.

When I arrived, I strutted through the big doors and down the hall to my assigned courtroom. I whipped off my glamorous shades and faced a huge room packed with traffic offenders and nonviolent felons. People were glaring and the judge’s bench was much more imposing than I’d anticipated and the whole thing was very scary. I dropped my note cards into my bag and perched on the edge of a bench next to a woman with a crying baby and I felt nothing like Winona Ryder.

The judge came in and the clerk started calling names for rapid-fire public pleas. I was hyperventilating. About fifteen minutes in, they called my name. I stood up on wobbly legs and they asked me for my plea. I opened my mouth to speak but suddenly all I could think was, “Oh my god, I’m wearing a fleece covered in dog hair.”

“Guilty,” I said.

High Fashion Haiku

Recession Style Tip:
Choose pants that you could live in,
should the need arise.

VPL "Swag Pant," $495 (now reasonably priced at $150!), shopbop.com

Guest Post: Portrait of the President as a Young Man

Unfortunately I'm still completely swamped with deadlines so I'm going to continue the theme of having my funny friends fill in for me. Today's amazing post is from the amazing Sarah of the amazing blog Yes and Yes ("amazing" is sort of her life theme), and it happens to be perfect for today's festivities. I hope you enjoy!

Take it away, Sarah:

So we all have a bit of a crush on The Prez, right? The charm! The humor! The large, dewy eyes! For the first time in my life, I can actually imagine what the leader of my country was like at my age. Honestly, I suspect he would have been quite comfortable at my ridiculously liberal college, which was stuffed to the gills with hippie intellectuals, unshaven ladies and male homecoming queens.

Please allow me to take you on a polyvore tour through the college years of our new leaders. Note: while the outfits portrayed are not necessarily decade appropriate, the facts are. Or at least as accurate as any information fed to me by the interwebz.


jill biden by hovercraft

Jill Biden
Growing up in New Jersey, Jill Jacobs couldn't understand why her family lingered over brunch every Sunday while all her friends were learning about Zacchaeus and that tree of his. In an attempt to rectify this, she spends every Wednesday of her ninth grade year taking classes to become the best Presbyterian she could be. At the University of Delaware, Jill is the hottest English major on campus. So hot, in fact, that she takes a year off to model. Her face decorateds billboards throughout the city and eventually attract the affections of one very cute football player named Joe.


joe biden by hovercraft

Joe Biden
Halfback Joe is a competition-level crammer, impressing classmates with his marathon study sessions. He has a bit more time for classes sophomore year when he drops football to spend more time with his lady love. A five-time recipient of student draft deferments, the handsome law student is, by his own admission, "more sports coat that tie dye." The Law school's mock courtrooms unnerve Joe and bring out his stutter. In an attempt to overcome this, he recites poetry into the mirror every morning as he shaves.

michelle obama by hovercraft


Michelle Obama
Princeton is a long way from Michelle's SouthSide Chicago home. On her first day in New Jersey, her roommate's mother requests that her daughter be moved to a different room. The roommate is from Georgia and "not used to living with black people." In spite of this, the girls are friendly while living together. Ever the fashion plate, Michelle is not the type to attend lecture in sweatpants. She even models in several charity fashion shows. Her friends believe she is the tallest woman they know. Michelle spends her senior year listening to Stevie Wonder albums and writing her thesis 'Princeton-Educated Blacks and the Black Community.'


obama by hovercraft

Barack Obama
The closet in Barack's tiny sixth floor walk-up is stuffed with used leather jackets and $5 military surplus khakis. He does, however, splash out on a pair of decent running shoes for the three miles he runs every morning, as the sun rises over the city. After class, Barack and his roommate putter around the apartment, making curry and listening to Dylan. The roommate talks business and money, Barack talks people and support. This bleeding heart, and a rather flashy Fiat, impress the ladies. The roommate reconsiders his angle.

Would you befriend these guys if they'd been sitting next to you in Freshman Comp?

The Saggy Tights Terrorist?

I received this email from my amazing friend, frequent commenter, and FBI agent (yes, really) "Echidna Girl," and it was too good not to share:

Ever have one of those days where you’re walking along at 4:30am and it’s 24 degrees and you’re freezing and you suddenly realize that it probably wasn’t a really good idea to eke one last use out of that old pair of black tights because the elastic is gone baby gone? You’re racing along as your toes are irreversibly dying from frostbite when suddenly you get that strange feeling that your tights are beginning to slip and it’s oh shiiiiiiit. You can’t get to them because they’re under 6 layers of clothing and you dread taking off your gloves and you’re still 10 minutes from the FBI Headquarters.

You start doing the funky hip swivel walk…but it isn’t working and now they’re down around your hips and things are getting desperate so off come the gloves and you have to reach in through your overcoat and grab whatever you can. All dignity is gone. Homeless people are no longer asking you for change as they recognize you as one of their own. You’re shuffling along at the lightning speed of a millipede because still…IT’S F%!KING FREEZING…but you can only propel yourself from the knees down.

Now you’re approaching the FBI building it suddenly occurs to you that you are exuding a sense of desperate determination born from utter humiliation, and with one hand shoved awkwardly in your coat, you’re rapidly hurling yourself at a major United States Government target. Just maybe you might want to reconsider your options before you reach the armed guards at the gate...

And that, my friends, is why you don't wear old tights.

Blogback Mountain

21 Ways to Be Tough, Yet Feminine, by a badass women's roller derby league.

Christine over at FutureLint throws down that Minneapolis is better than Portland. Oh yeah, Christine? Oh yeah? Let's take this outside! (Once the weather warms up, of course...shall we set a date for early spring?)

Speaking of throwdowns, our adorable little Susie rocks this amazing dress about a million times better than the runway model. Work it, Bubble!

Dear friends, if you do not make me a customized jeweled headband topped with a lace bird nest, we might no longer be friends.

This is hilarious.

Bahahaha have you seen this sneezing panda? Watch this video three times a day for a better life.

What to do with a free Saturday in Washington DC (if you're not into monuments).

Open up a high-end fashion magazine these days, and you're sure to see at least one awkward article where the writer disguised herself as a normal person and went shopping for clothes at Target and actually found a kind of cute tanktop which was exciting but of course she didn't buy it because, umm, gross. THIS IS SO ANNOYING. WendyB has more, plus insights from Ice-T.

My little bro is using his videogame blog to promote a good cause, so check it out!

Anyone could pull off this look, right? Right? No? It must be the red lipstick.

Web Time Wasters. Just what I need...

In your best Colin Firth voice, tell your eyelashes, "I like you, very much. Just as you are."

I tried to pick one post to link to from Apocalypstick Now, but I couldn't. They're all too good. If you're not reading it yet, please, go NOW.

Vote For the Only Fashion Blog Employing a Raccoon Part-Time

So perhaps you've noticed the badge in the sidebar, but just in case you haven't heard the news: OMG DADDY LIKEY IS A FINALIST FOR BEST FASHION BLOG IN THE 2008 WEBLOG AWARDS! This is kind of a huge deal, and I want to say THANK YOU to my beautiful, anonymous nominators and everyone who has voted for me so far.

If you haven't voted yet (or within the last 24 hours, to be exact), please go here and show your support for Daddy Likey. I'm currently losing to the Fug Girls by about 9,000 votes, but hey, who doesn't love an underdog?? You will have my eternal gratitude, and if you ever come to Oregon, I will buy you a cup of coffee. (Seriously, we have great coffee here.)

And if you don't want to do it for me, please, do it for Martin:


p.s. WendyB, one of my worthy opponents, has been running an extremely persuasive, impassioned campaign, and while I'd prefer she quit leaving bloody laptops in my bed, I've gotta give her props. Wendy, I hope we can put this competition behind us when I run for congress, because I'm gonna need you as my campaign manager/jewelry consultant.

GIVEAWAY! Just try not to eat it...

This swanky vanilla bean skin cream is made by an awesome lady named Jody Berry at her Oregon farm. I'm building up the courage to ask her to adopt me so my name can be Winona Berry and I can wear flowers in my hair and take baths in organic lotion.

Seriously, this stuff smells amazing, does wonders for cracked winter skin, lips, or pound cake (KIDDING! But only because it says Resist the urge to eat it on the label.), and I'd love to give a little tub to you, my friend, along with a personalized haiku and a couple other little goodies.

And guess what? All you have to do is leave a comment. I'll choose a winner at random on Monday. Good luck!

Update: Wendy is our winner! Thank you all so much for entering, and keep an eye out for more random giveaways in the future--your comments were so cute, how could I not do this again?!

Don't Show-cha Your Chocha, Volume XVII

To make up for my blogging absence, I would like to present you with a warm, heaping serving of Don't Show-cha Your Chocha, the popular feature in which the diligent army of Daddy Likey readers track down and turn in the high-hemmed fashion criminals who wander the streets (aka internet) leaving little or nothing to our imaginations. (Click here for the formal intro.)

Without further ado, our first flashin' felon:

Lovely reader Anna found this one, and says: I don't know if she's leaning back or if it's the angle of the photograph that makes me think "DANGER WILL ROBINSON!"

Next up, a chocha-exposing formalwear option from Heather:

She says: I found this while I was looking through pictures of wedding dresses, yes that's right wedding dresses, it was labelled under "ball gowns"!?!

Says Elin: What's great about this little chocha number is that after a long night of boozing at the bar, you can come home in a drunken stupor and not feel bad about plowing into bed and passing out without changing your clothes because, well, you were already wearing your nightie.

Angela says, I love your blog...but now I have become a straight woman looking for chochas! It happens. Here's one she found:

I've said it a hundred times, and I'll say it again: Thank god for panties!

Next, Nancy Drew and the case of the bejeweled crotch:

A reader emailed me this photo along with the note, I'll leave it up to you, to come to a conclusion. My conclusion? WHAT THE HELL.

From Emily: So I was trolling Style.com's NYC Fashion Week pictures, and midway through the Alexander Wang show, this picture pops up:

I actually saw this, clicked forward to the next image, then realized exactly what I had just witnessed and backtracked. Is it my imagination, or can you actually...see something?

Anyway, I thought you should be notified immediately.

Editor's note: I named this jpeg "Wang Chocha," which should bring an interesting new demographic to my readership.

Libby turned in frequent offender American Apparel for its creative interpretations of a mini skirt:

She says: This is a skirt, it's obviously a skirt, it's sold as a SKIRT. Wearing this as a high waisted skirt is already risking chocha exposal, (note the models clenched thighs!), but American Apparel, of the let's-sell-socks-by-advertising-a-girl-with-no-knickers-on, obviously trying to be versatile are also trying to sell this as a dress option:

Note it's shot from above because at normal eye level you're going to get more than an eyeful! SO feel free to wear this 'dress' if you're only going to be seen from above...

From Casey:

who adds: ...but the glasses make her look smarter.

Becca found a new incarnation of Don't Show-cha Your Chocha: Don't Show-cha Your Butt-cha Through a See-Through Dress-a:

She says: Eeek...this might be a new incarnation of your famous series. But really, i mean this brand is called "Jen's Pirate Booty"? Ick...

Kirsten points out this dress, which comes with an, ummm, revealing title:

This isn't quite a chocha show sort of dress, but it is called the "Gyna" dress. Maybe it's supposed to be pronounced like "Gina" but I can't help thinking Gyno and 'giner when I see the title.

Lovely Swedish reader Josefina has some insights about this photo:

I immediately thought of you and your commendable initiative when I found this presumably very cold young lady on a street style blog. The offender is a Swedish model and tv-personality, and the picture was taken during Stockholm Fashion Week, where she won the award for Best Dressed Woman. Even though she, as you can see, is barely dressed at all.

I received this urgent telegraph from a number of readers:

A sampling of reactions:

Valentina: She's only 15! I don't understand why she couldn't even manage to pull on some leggings or tights. Flashing us some webbed crotch is better than panty crotch in my opinion.

And from Kim : When I saw this this morning on Go Fug Yourself, I knew you had to have it for your next Don't Show Your Chocha collection. The sad part is, this girl is only 15. Her name is Taylor Momsen but I don't know who she is. I'm frightened and may have to leave work for the rest of the day.

And finally, Taylor sent in this DSYC-themed t-shirt, which reads, ""With a shirt like this, who needs pants?"

Says Taylor: This is madness. It's not even a shirt disguised as a dress, this girl is just wearing no pants. Why is she so excited to be pantsless?

Send me your chocha finds, with or without witty commentary! daddylikeyblog@gmail.com

New Year, New (Old) Sunglasses!

I'm not sure if this is true around the country, but for some reason, a ranking Goodwill official in the Pacific Northwest apparently decided that the best place to stock the used sunglasses would be in a tiny wicker basket hidden on a random shelf in the expansive housewares section. So if you're on a hunt for vintage sunglasses and you go to Goodwill, you're in for a challenging obstacle course that includes jumping over children playing with loud toys, dodging falling hockey sticks, and avoiding the creepy guys that seem to accumulate toward the back of the store, sensually twisting the knobs of early 90's stereo systems.

Since I love vintage sunglasses almost as much as I love butterflies and miniature cheeseburgers, this Goodwill challenge is totally worth it, and I embark on a heroic search whenever I'm there. Usually my efforts are rewarded with a few broken spectacles and Ray-Ban knockoffs, but every once in awhile, I hit it big. Yesterday, for example.

I scored a pair of vintage Anne Klein for Rivieras, a giant polarized pair of tortoise shell aviators, and some plastic Spalding sports frames that are so 80s I can barely stand it--for 99 cents a piece! Considering the skyrocketing costs of EVERYTHING ELSE at Goodwill, I'd call this a successful shopping day indeed.

The Anne Kleins

The giant aviators, conveniently polarized so you can see me taking a picture of myself. Oops.

Plastic Spaldings, in shades of gray.

If you desire some rad vintage frames and have a few dollars, a few hours, massive resilience and possibly a bodyguard, I'd highly recommend checking out Goodwill's selection.

A Little New Year's Mush

I wanted to take this opportunity to wish everyone an absolutely totally amazingly awesome adjective-filled 2009! Thank you so much for helping to make this year one of my best ever. I have so much love and gratitude for all of you--from the secret lunch break readers to the daily commenters. Thank you for reading what I write.

Any questions you'd like answered or topics you'd like to see covered on Daddy Likey this year? Send me an email: daddylikeyblog@gmail.com

I'll be back to regular posting on Monday!