Wednesday, June 30, 2010

LashBlast vs. DiorShow: Mascara Showdown

I've mentioned before (here and here)that I love DiorShow mascara . I love the volumizing formula, the rosewater fragrance, the pretty tube, the giant brush. What I don't love is the exorbitant price. For $24 I could buy a one-way plane ticket to Boise, Idaho. Or a round of antibiotics. Or a ham.

MAC Fibre Riche is usually my favorite affordable alternative (it's about 10 bucks), but lately my trusty backup seemed flaky and unenthusiastic, which are two of my least favorite qualities in people and mascara. It was time to try something new.

On a recent trip to Walgreens, I noticed Covergirl LashBlast was on sale for 5 bucks, so I decided to try it out. Here's my review, in an awkward sentence fragment format:

Looks: like a sex toy. The tube is large. And orange. I will probably hide it when my grandma comes over.

Feels: great. My lashes stay soft and full throughout the day.

Smells: OK, I guess. A little chemical-y, sure, but for $20 less per tube than the lovely rosewater-scented DiorShow, I'm not going to complain.

Tastes: like chicken. JK, you guys, I didn't taste it (yet). But wouldn't that be upsetting if it actually tasted like chicken?

Goes on: thick. It's easy to overdo it, but just one coat adds a ton of volume and definition.

Here I am in one coat of LashBlast plus a shmidge of eyeliner:


Verdict: For 5 bucks, my lashes are happy and I'm happy and as soon as I hide the tube my grandma will be happy.

Now I'm off to buy a ham.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Guest Post: The Sisyphean Struggle Against Bro Shorts

Last week at a science fair party my dear friend Henry started telling me about his long and tragic quest to find a non-douchey pair of shorts. I stopped him mid-sentence and said, "Henry, who knows how many men are facing the same challenges in silence and isolation? You need to blog about this." He was about to embark on a road trip to the Grand Canyon, so he agreed to file a guest post from the road, Jack Kerouac-style. This is his story.

Readers of Daddy Likey may not know it, but millions of men every year are burdened with the task of properly ventilating their legs. Sure, toughing it out and wearing pants during the summer months is an option, but when the raging inferno of an out-of-control barbecue backdrafts into an already sweltering August heat, the practicality of pants goes up in smoke. Which leaves us with the unenviable task of picking out shorts - and if you’re a man of discerning taste, that means shorts that don’t make you look like a bro.

Bros, for the unfamiliar, are so common you probably don’t even realize what a distinct group they are. But it is their numbers that have forced clothing manufacturers to cater to the poor tastes of every Chad, Kyle and Tre in the ultimate frisbee league. Though their interests may range from Jagermeister to hemp, and hackey sack to Playstation, their commitment to baggy, canvas shorts with non-standard pocket configurations is their common banner. So in a stand against this tyranny of the majority, I attempted to find shorts that broke free of the bro mold. The following three trials were taken on a road trip through the Southwest with my future in-laws and rated on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being maximum bro-ness.

Exhibit A


A descriptor: A pair of cargo shorts from REI, except they weren’t real cargo shorts. Yeah they had the pockets on the sides, and zippers in places that weren’t my crotch, but they were made out of a blend of nylon, polyester and some other fibrous abomination devised by man, rather than a just and all-knowing God. They do, however, appear to be spill resistant. Regular fit. Knee length. Are they bro-ish? Well sure, but more the kind of bros that drink wheatgrass cleansing smoothies and are really into parkour.

Performance: These held up surprisingly well. Granted, I didn’t put them through the rigors that millions of dollars worth of textile science at REI-HQ designed them for, but they did repel crumbs from most of the salted-snacks consumed. And the toothpaste I accidentally smeared into the pocket will come right out in the wash. Extra points given for their innovative material, which on long car trips went a long way toward mitigating ass-sweat.

Bro-factor: 8.1

Exhibit B


A descriptor: Do you know how hard it is to find a pair of loose-fitting, khaki knee-length shorts if you’re a semi-professional man between the ages of 25-30? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I am in the uncanny valley of casual men’s summer wear. I’m not quite ready to take the plunge into pleated, cuffed old man shorts, but I also want to differentiate myself from the neighbor kids who keep me up at night with their goddamn skateboarding. Out of options at the big box retail operations, I made a defeated trek to the Vans store in the Lloyd Center Mall in search of some tan Dickies. Result was plain khaki Red Hat (some Dickies equivalent) shorts that sit right below the kneecap. No extra pockets. No awful screen printed designs.

Performance: These get an “incomplete” for the trip. Yeah they fit really well when I tried them on in the store, but after three days of driving for 8 hours per day and eating In-n-Out burger, not so much. Canvas work shorts just don’t have the ‘give’ that an indulgent life on the road requires. Not what I would expect from a company tasked with outfitting countless Warped Tour performers lo these many years.

Bro-factor: 8.9

Exhibit C


A descriptor: Fuck it. These are used, camo-print, button-fly cargo shorts purchased from Buffalo Exchange for $12. Their pockets can hold 6 cans of Milwaukee’s Best Ice (“Beast”). We’re through the looking glass, people.

Performance: Wow these are comfortable! When combined with a pair of flip-flop sandals and a baseball shirt, these may, in fact, be the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn. I can keep everything in these pockets too. Digital camera, wallet, keys, phone, other shorts, whatever. There’s also psychological comfort in just giving in and embracing the bro shorts. I now have a new appreciation for people in muumuus or the crazy guy on my way to work who wears a down comforter as a cape (I call him The King). They’re doing what feels good, society be damned.

Bro-factor: vast and immeasurable

Monday, June 21, 2010

Friday, June 18, 2010

My (Fake) Future's So Bright...

Yesterday my boyfriend and my little brother and I were checking out some music stores in the neighborhood. My boyfriend was looking for an electric guitar, my brother was looking for a pair of Pro-Mark drumsticks, and I was looking for the dramatic fantasies music stores so easily conjure within me ("I think I'm going to move to Nashville and start a folk rock band called Winona and the Corn Huskers! Serious! I just need to buy a van and learn to play an instrument.")

I came dangerously close to impulse-buying a banjo and a $900 drum kit before spotting these plaid sunglasses near the counter:


I tried them on, shrieked with delight, and slammed my debit card on the counter. "I'll take 'em," I said, "as long as they cost less than $900."

They were 12 bucks.

I love them so much I've been wearing them inside the house. And oh man are they gonna look great on stage in Nashville.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Stuff I Love: The Perfect Head-to-Bow Ratio

I love giant accessories. I also love math equations. So this 11-inch bow necklace makes me really excited.

p.s.Thanks so much to Amy for alerting me to its existence!

p.p.s.s. I keep glancing at that photo and thinking the model is me and being really impressed with the condition of my hair, then I'm like, "Oh wait, that's totally not me. And my actual hair is tied in a knot on top of my head with a rubber band I found on the floor at my office. Damn."

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Don't Show-cha Your Chorcha: Celine Dion Edition

A friend of mine, we'll call him Elyk, loves Celine Dion. He knows the words to all of her songs and does a pretty killer impression of her unique accent and intonation, which he claims is actually a new language called "Celinion."

He recently bought her latest concert DVD (using the self-checkout line in order to maintain his masculine street cred), then he brought it to my house and we watched it while making pizzagna (a deadly pizza-lasagna hybrid) and trying to replicate her seizure-like dance movies. At one point I wore a cape. It was awesome. Even more awesome? Her chocha-rific stage outfits.

Elyk and I thought it was about time to dedicate an installment of Don't Show-cha Your Chocha entirely to Celine. This is my 50th Don't Show-cha Your Chocha post, and what better way to celebrate such an epic occasion than to feature the most epic singer of all time? So now, behold: a world tour of Celine's best chorcha* moments:

Remember in 1997 when you first saw Celine Dion's chorcha?

How could you not remember this?

Ten years later, Celine's chorcha is back for revenge on the second-highest-grossing tour ever for a solo artist: the Taking Chances World Tour (1,265,385 chorcha viewers in Australia and U.S. ALONE).

Here she is singing her hit song "Chorcha Deep, Mountain High." (Enlarge photo at your own risk.)

"The Power of Chorcha"

"This is a Man's World, and her Mummy Chorcha Says Just This"

Here's some vagazzled chorcha (Even with pants on she can't keep it contained)

"This Chorcha Was Made for Showing, and That's Just What She'll Do."

*Elyk insists this is how you pronounce "chocha" in Celinion.

Raccoon Rumpus

You guys. Anthropologie is selling a frilly blouse with a sassy raccoon print. It's called the "Raccoon Rumpus Blouse," and it's by far the best thing I've ever seen:

Yes. Those are little raccoons.

I had to know what Martin Sheen, raccoon fashion blogger extraoirdinaire, thought of this unique piece:


This is by far the best thing I've ever seen.

xoxo,
Martin

p.s. Thanks so much to Sara for alerting me to this awesomeness!

Monday, June 14, 2010

Awesome Affordable Etsy Find of the Week: Back From Florida Edition


I'm back from Florida, miraculously alive and in one piece (I did lose approximately 3 quarts of blood to the Everglades mosquitoes, but hey, I'm sure they needed it more than I did). Crazy snake-hunting/alligator-stalking/Jon Voight-impersonating adventure stories and photo evidence are forthcoming as soon as I get my thoughts in order and my brother figures out how to burn me a photo CD (the kid has many other skills).

I promise to make it worth the wait.

As a preview, here is a picture of me petting a water moccasin that my dad caught in a swamp:

Not shown: me wetting myself.

I'll be back to a normal blogging schedule this week so stay tuned for haiku, chochas, and lots of other fun stuff!

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Well my lovelies, in a couple hours I'm off to Miami to lay out in the sun and relax tromp through the everglades and try not to get eaten by an alligator. Posting will be sporadic/nonexistent for the next week or so but I'll try to update if I can.

I hope you have a lovely week and I'm sure I'll have some entertaining stories to report when I return, so come back soon, ya hear?

p.s. If you'd like to read about my last trip down south, click here.

Photo by Peter Chinman

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