Obligatory Post

Didn't want to let so much time go by without a post again. These MCAT prep classes in addition to 20 credits worth of classes this semester are seriously kicking my butt. I may post later, but Happy Prez Day, I guess.

The Closet Dregs

I am a pack rat and compulsive shopper who made a new year's resolution to: 1) reincorporate my old clothing into my wardrobe if it's wearable, and 2) not enter any retail or online store with my credit or debit card or cash nearby (most of the time). So far, I have remained committed to #2, I haven't bought a thing from online or a retail store...but #1 still gives me trouble. The thing is, I can still fit all of my clothes from 9th-12th grade. In fact, some are a little big (size 7 or 8) but can be taken in. I know many people who say they wish they had my problem, but because I am a pack rat, it makes it extremely difficult to justify getting rid of these clothes. Well, I abandoned those pieces with "Baby Phat", "Ecko Red", "Rocawear", etc. emblazoned in jewels and such because, well, in Tamia's words, I am just too grown for that. Other than being a mid-priced label ho, I was a nondescript dresser in high school, so it is not as if my jeans, skirts, dresses, and t-shirts are totally out of style. In fact, nothing really has to be out of style, the way I see it; it just needs a little revamping. You know: "We can rebuild it, we have the technology..."

So, in honor of my pack-rat-y-ness, I have decided to pull from the closet dregs and see what I can do with some of the stuff I never wear, including old, old clothes and what-the-hell-was-I-thinking impulse buys. Let's begin with this skirt.

It's from my Tommy Hilfiger phase of 8th grade (yes, my black people, I know, sorry). I would call it A-line to the extreme, the way it flares and folds. AAA-line. It is extremely difficult to pair with anything in my closet but a fitted tee, but I wanted to reach just a little further. Here's what I came up with.

Jacket: 80's leather, thrifted. Shirt: Express, clearance bin. Skirt: Uh, the TH store? I dunno. Tights: Forever 21. Boots: Casadei, bluefly.com clearance.

Whoo, buddy...my legs look minute on camera. I must apologize for poor lighting...and aim...and whatever else sucks about the picture itself. I am no photographer. Nor am I the most photogenic. There is that 80's leather jacket. I tried to subdue the giant arm effect by tucking it back some. I can't say I am crazy about this one, but I will tell you that I was going for that whole biker effect with a touch of femininity. I am wearing silver feather earrings, but they aren't very visible here, although cute in person. Ahhh, it's okay. Whatevs, I am relatively new to the whole self-fashion thing so I am not too upset about it. In retrospect, I would change the shirt, but to what? Dunno. I really just wanted to wear the boots, which I am obsessed with and would wear everyday if my distressed and eventually mangled feet wouldn't bleed all over the Italian leather.

Undershirt: Old Navy? Tunic: Wet Seal, ages ago. Bracelets: Forever 21. Plaid Flats: thrifted


Ok, I must say I like this one better. I didn't go overboard with any colors, which seems to be the bravest way to be fashionable. But, the skirt was so pale, most of my tights and bright shirts made it look incredibly out of place. Those plaid flats are my faves (of the few flats I have), and so I just stuck em on. The cream shirt is so old, the printing on the shirt (with the store purchased, etc) is totally gone. I think it was Old Navy, but who the hell knows? I wear it under stuff only, because for some reason the fabric loosens over the course of the day. The navy tunic is actually old too, but I wear it from time to time, so it doesn't count for the dregs. I think this pairing actually makes it look like it's supposed to be a dress, which is nice. It'd be ok to wear in that transitional time when March is not sure whether to be warm or chilly. Plus the tunic subdues the circular flare of the skirt, which would come in handy for that crazy DC wind so I am not flashing my goods to the general public.

Question...

If I found a steal of a deal vintage 80's black leather jacket with the large winged Dolman sleeves *that makes me look like Queen-of-the-night/wanna-dance-with-somebody Whitney Houston* do I alter said sleeves to my (slightly updated) "tastes"? Or do I leave it alone to pay homage to the era *and my laziness* and endure the confused looks of my friends? Quite the quandary...

Guilty Pleasures (TV edition)

I watch a lot of TV, and lately, as much Cold Case as I can lay my eyes on. In fact, just before writing this I was perusing the web for online episodes since CBS doesn't keep any on Innertube. I love, love, love this show and don't care that I hopped on the bandwagon about 5 seasons in...I am hooked. Despite her never-changing hairstyle (though it's looking better this season...it's still "with hair clip"/"without hair clip"), I love Kathryn Morris as damaged Detective Lilly Rush (and as damaged wife of Tom Cruise in Minority Report).

And boy-oh-boy was I thrilled to see fellow Howard-ite, the beautiful Tracie Thoms as Detective Kat Miller (veteran of Rent, The Devil Wears Prada, and Grindhouse...shazzam!) doing it up on network TV!

But, the lustful, boy-crazy teenybopper in me must confess my infatuation with Danny Pino also known as the smokin' hot Detective Scotty Valens (sigh). I mean, he is just one delicious man. I can be really ridiculous, screaming at the TV for Lilly and Scotty to just get it on already. It's so there - the sexual tension, I mean. Wow. I have to admit seeing it in print is kinda sad, but true. The other actors are wonderful too, but these are my faves. Oh, and the photos are from the CBS Cold Case website.

Ok, So Get This...

I have bad luck. But, not in the got-held-up-in-a-back-alley or I-lost-all-my-money-gambling sense of the phrase: just really small things that hinder my daily progress/make others laugh at my minor misfortunes. Overall, I know life is good for me, but the cynic comes out of me every now and then. These are everyday occurrences and not wholly unusual, but the way they tend to pile on seems straight out of a movie/tv show. So incredulous are my mother and friends when I regale them with tales of my day (cuz I have to vent of course) they often say, "you should write these down!" And, now I will be.

Last night, I went through the elaborate process of budget hairstyling and managed to achieve a semi-perfect blowout, springy curls and all. Like any "beauty is pain" mantra worshiper, I endured a fitful night of sleep on balled fists to preserve my coiffure (yeah, it was that good). Because I took so long dipping into REM sleep, I woke up late. Jumping into my non-ironed clothes was punctuated with a frantic search for my gloves, resulting in spilling a large glass of water on my (closed, luckily) brand new laptop. Freaking out, (natch), I mopped it up with a towel: a towel on which were attached...dunh-dunh-dunh...said gloves, now sopping wet. With no time to cry over spilled milk - er, water, I headed out the door to begin my daily subway journey to university.

On the train, I mention the rain to my friend, and he makes an "umbrella-ella-ella" joke. I proceed to rant about how played the phrase is (it's 2008, people!) and the song as well. Like usual, I got dramatically overzealous in complaining about how overrated Rihanna and the Dream (songwriter) are in my distaste. Nothing new there. Upon leaving the Metro stop, I opened my umbrella (eh, eh) only to have it close on my head. Like a Venus Flytrap. The nifty little compact with the pop-out function snapped. I tried to force it back open only to realize I would have to hold it open the entire uphill journey to class (which isn't short, I should mention). Great.

Upon reaching class, I realize that my semi-closed umbrella caused a steady accumulation of water to drip, drip, drip onto my shiny bouncy hair, reducing it to a stiff, frizzy nest, as it would stay until the close of my day. As I pulled out my (soggy!) notebook from my (open!) tote, with numb red hands I concluded three things about God, or Karma, at least: He loves irony, has impeccable comedic timing, and is a huge Rihanna fan.