Can't Judge a Project Runway Contestant by Its Cover

Project Runway premiered last night, and I am very excited about this season. In it's premiere, judged awarded winner to Rami and his modern-day toga, and sent Simone packing for her failed attempt at vintage.
This year was the firsy year though that my pre-season favourites did not hold up. While looking at all the previews and what-not, I grew disdain for youngster scenester Christian and leopard-clad fatty Chirs, and adoration of the adorably gay Steven and Rosario Dawson look-a-like Carmen. However, by the end of the first episode, Chris sky-rocketed to most loved (after watching him waddle across the field to collect fabric for the challenge, and then creating a gorgeous dress) and Christian's bitchiness was actually humourous, while Steven and Carmen's designs did not impress. Christian was the runner-up for winner, but I wasn't a big fan of his overly-lacey in front bulky jacket, though I can see where the judges were impressed.
Runner-up for out was the quirky Elisa. She started of the craziness by grass-staining a silk chiffon, then after returning to the design room, used her own legs as the model form. She then made an elegant and whimsical top, and shredded all of her remaining fabrics and sewed them on the bottom of the dress (probably about 20 lbs worth.) Heidi was right to say it looked like the model pooped out the fabric. She also "hand measured" (aka felt up) her model to do the fitting. Now listen judges, because I'm only going to say this once (yeah right.) Do not keep the crazies! Did you see what happened with Wendy Peppers and Vincent. These people who don't deserve to be on the show because they are completely batshit end up outlast great designs because you want to keep them around for entertainment. No more of this! Kick that broad off!

And now, my personal picks:

Best:

By Chris



Worst:

by Elisa

Fashion Week Recap.

Another Fashion Week has come and gone, and much to my shagrin I didn't recieve a personal invite yet again.
The Spring 2008 looks are bold, and it looks like the clinched-at-the-waist belt is here to stay. A lot of bright colours were paired with black, which seems dark for spring, but what the hey, let's do it! Gwen Stefani's L.A.M.B. was a shining example of this, and still super cute. Her looks were very modern and rock, which is a big change from the Michelle Pfeiffer in 'Scarface' debut of the line.
Calvin Klein presented us with an almost all white collection. Betsey Johnson was fucking ridiculous, I don't know who the hell would wear these atrocities. Half of her looks were like retarded trying-to-be-throwback prom dresses, and all the models wore corsages and had dates walk them down the runway. Michael Kors was bright and classy in classic light spring colours, but his men's look were a lot like him: supergay. Vera Wang was rather lack-luster, but I never really like her work anyways. Lacoste was sleek as always, and while I would wear anything with that little alligator on it, nothing jumped out at me. But I guess the time-tested classiness of Lacoste is what makes it so great. Venexiana did this amazing very vintage sailor/'40s wife themed collection that I LOVED. Be sure to check the pictures below.
I also discovered my new fashion soulmate this week: Tadashi Shoji, the Fashion Week closer. His clothes are soft and feminine but still involved interesting shapes and designs, a few of which seemed a tad throwback, which I love.
I was really sad that no Project Runway names graced the runway at Fashion Week. Wake up Jay McCarroll! I love you dearly, make me clothes now please! Same for you Jeffrey.
Also, MetLife held a charity show where all the designs were inspired by Charlie Brown characters! Some were cute, but some were just ridiculous.

Favourites/Buy these for me:

Michael Kors




Venexiana




Tadashi Shoji

L.A.M.B.

Badgley Mischka
(they were once guest judges on Project Runway, and I love the print of this skirt.)

Miss Sixty




Isaac Mizrahi's Snoopy in Fashion design: a modern take on the classic Charlie Brown look.


A less practical but still cute Snoopy in Fashion look. I like the creativity in this one.

What the Fucks/What not to Wear:

Academy of Art University
(box on the head, wtf?)

Vera Wang



Betsey Johnson for the awful win.

Someone is puking out on Ninth Street

I've been trying to find something to put here for ages. I wanted to write something interesting and thought-provoking, mixed with the combine comedic power of the Sedaris children.
Instead, i have:
-bought more clothes than I could ever need.
-fallen back into and out of alcoholism.
-started what could turn out to be a rather dull relationship.

Let's discuss the last note there. A boy and I have begun dating and agreed we're not ready for anything serious. To me, that means basically everything boyfriends do, but no rules involving infedelity. To him, "not serious" means smoking a lot, macking, and passing out. Oh language barriers. But much like this blog, my relationship is less than ideal.
But I began to think, what's wrong with this picture? Here I am, with an attractive guy who's into me (and who I have been attracted to for quite some time)and he's not ashamed to show it (he, in fact, got all up on me at a concert when he saw another boy attempt to) and doesn't want to tie me down. Why the need for thrills when i can have a relationship minus those nasty frills? I realized that right now, life doesn't need to be inriguing in order to be enjoyable. Hopefully the same holds true for this post.


As for publishing something interesting, I am currently working on:
-American Dream stories.
-toying with the idea of being completely honest for a week.
-going all Bridget Jones style and boring you with relationship advice/news! Not really. But maybe?

Sweatin' like a whore in church (or a whore on the first day of summer classes)

Overweight, drunk smoker who is an alcoholic workoholic. Can she peg a man? Let's see, shall we?
The hot mid-June sun beat down on my already pounding head, the only thought running through it is completely dedicated to purchasing one of those huge misting fans. I want to be totally immersed in cold, crisp water. However, as far as hangovers go, this one isn't so bad. But still, I won't be drinking like that for a long time. At least not for a month, when I celebrate my birthday on the eleventh day of July, in the two thousand and seventh year of our Lord.
What a way to begin summer classes. Hungover (possibly still drunk,) on three hours of sleep, and still recovering from leg-numbing sex. The events of last night turned out better than even I had planned.
The original idea was to make eyes at a chubby, hardly attractive co-worker of mine, but since he is an arrogant prick, I slept with his thin, curly-haired friend. Now that that crisis of faith in myself and my abilities is over, I can go back to being normal. God I was a shitshow last night. There was a point where I was crying into a blow-up doll. Right, alls well that ends well I suppose.
I just want to fill a sink with icy cold water and stick my head in.

Kentucky Travels.

2007.03.27 at 23:34

Mom and I arrived in Grand Rivers (St. Louis shown for scale) around 4-ish, and we went straight to Lake Realty to see Brenda and Margaret. We sat and talked for awhile, then went to Patti's Restaurant where they cook bread in flower pots, and they taught me how to!
After that we went on a walk through the town, which took a few minutes, and my uncle Roy let me ride his 400cc scooter. I think he said 400. Anyhoot, he said tomorrow I can try and ride it!
I wish I could live the life they do here, really. It's so beautiful out here, and simple. While we were walking through the town, random people's cats would just come up and I would caqrry them a few blocks, then they'd follow me around. My Aunt Anne owns pet goats, and you know I'm a sucker for farm animals.
I love boating and lakes, and down here the water is about a thousand times cleaner than the Lakes of the Ozarks (Osage Beach water show for reference.)
I just which I could simplify my life and enjoy it here. Maybe instead of a big city, I need to trysomething small-scale for my writing. Something small, but preferably still in California. I need sunshine in my life.

More tomorrow night, Mom is complaining that the glow of my laptop is keping her awake.



2007.03.28 at 20:58

Today was exhausting.
Got up at 8:30 and headed to Grand Rivers. Aunt Margaret, Mom and I went to visit Dycusburg to see Aunt Janie, who after her stroke says everything out loud. Some gems from today included "Megan used to be skinny" and "What's that thing in her nose?"
Then we went down the road, past Grandma's old property and to visit Aunt Anne. But she wasn't there, so I visited the chickens and goats and cats and dogs. Anyhoot, after that, we went to the Land Between the Lakes, where my family settled and my grandma and everyone was raised until the Tennessee Valley Authority abused their rights of eminent domain and forced everyone to relocate in the 1960s. All the houses and stores were bulldozed in the 1980s.
It's heartbreaking to think I will never see these homes that my family came from. Margaret, who was born in one of the log cabins, and her husband Roy have known each other their whole lives. Their past together has been pushed down and grown over. It's where the first settlers in Kentucky went, because the land was so fertile due to the rivers. When the rivers were damed and turned into lakes, the rivers flooded, and it makes sense to relocate the homes on the river banks. But it was abusive to move out everyone so we could have a park. IT wasn't a metropolis. These homes weren't a threat to nature. This was a crime in my eyes.
After that, we went and had dinner at the Iron Kettle with Anne, Janie, Margaret, Sarah and Susan, then went and saw Roy at home.
Tomorrow we're going to see the goats again, so I'll have goat pictures.


2007.03.29 at 23:46

Left Kentucky around noon today, after the second goat-visit. Trip was great, but the closest Taco Bell to Grand Rivers is 20 miles away. I think I'd like to retire there, but I probably won't be able to afford it!

GOATS!



this one in my favourite.


baby and momma goat!




this is mary. she likes how i taste.


this one's name is dipstick!




i almost took it.


mary started chewing my hand while i was holding the camera.


this little white one's mom doesn't have horns, but her brother does.


this is mary's daughter. if you look close on her back, you can see a burn mark from when she fell onto the heater that anne put out for her baby (the next picture.)

and this is mary's grandchild!


i believe little guy's name is Lucky. If not, there is a goat named Lucky, and his twin sister died because they were born in the cold of winter.


cows.



This is all that is left of my grandma's childhood home. The Tennessee Valley Authority started clearing people out of the Land Between the Lakes after they dammed a river and the land started to flood. Then they got a little power-crazed and made everyone move out and bulldozed all the houses. Now it's just woods, where there was once over a 1000 families, and stores, baseball diamonds, a community. All gone now.

why this irish girl hates st. patrick's day.

St. Patrick's Day is the day of recognition for St. Patrick, who brought Catholicism to the island of Ireland. Being Protestant, I do not celebrate Catholic holidays.
Also, I don't know how many of my readers are Cathoic, but every Saint has their own day. Why is it in America we only celebrate St. Patrick's Day? What about All Saint's Day, the Catholic give recognition to all the Saint's, including St. Patrick?
Oh, that's right. Because all Irish are alcoholics. Because no other Saint's Day revolves around a country that does nothnig but drink.
In Ireland, on St. Patrick's Day, the Protestants do nothing and the Catholics go to church.
On Friday, in America, a girl in my sociology class was wearing a green wig, over-sized leprechaun hat, Lucky Charms pajama pants, and green round shades. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to fucking scream. Hunter suggested I speak to her like she had downs syndrome, but she ran away before I could. Catholics don't ever believe in leprechauns, you shithead.
Last night, the streets overflowed with drunk sorority girls, wearing green Mardi Gras beads (which they probably earned doing rather un-Catholic things) with scanty green pieces of fabric. Do you think they went to church this morning?
I am sick of this holiday. I am sick of the disgusting Americaniszed version of it at least. A bar downtown had an "Erin Go Bra" contest last night, theprize going to the girl with the best bra. St. Patrick didn't bring Catholicism to Ireland for this shit.
You want to dress Irish? Well your $70 Britches green tunic is way to much than most can afford. You want to act Irish? A lot of the Irish live in poverty. They aren't alcoholics. They aren't leprechauns.
Choose a new saint's day to ruin. You've humped all the life and virtue out of this one.

Looking back on The Ataris

recent music review I wrote for The Maneater.


Very few people I know enjoy reliving the days when they were bopping along to late ‘90s early 2000s pop punk. Most of the people who were jamming away with me now get their kicks from whatever “cool” black-hair-dye –swoop-bangs band is in the spot light for the next ten minutes, denying the days we wore sweatbands and trucker hats. Turns out our old bands have done that as well.
The Ataris will always be the sound of the summer before my junior year of high school. It is the sound associated with wristbands, local shows and cruising in my ’92 Ford Thunderbird. The Ataris were, for me, a symbol of young love and rebellion.
But, like me, The Ataris had to grow up some time. I grew up and went to college. They grew up and got lame.
I remember sitting in my senior year journalism class and reading about “Welcome the Night” being released in 2005 and my heart thumping away in my chest. I wish they would have released it then, I could have at least gotten excited about the realease instead of not caring and finding out a few days later.
The album starts with a heavy song, and this is no “So Long, Astoria.” The crazy part is, both tracks start with a buzzing, distorted guitar, only this time the chords are sinister, not light-hearted. Kris Roe’s vocals are not that of the Roe of my youth. They are darker, deeper and richer. They sound like the typical alternative rock vocals of today, not the young, bright sounds of the boy in the late ‘90s who sang to me about never having to wait in line at Disneyland. The song is called “Not Capable of Love,” but don’t get it confused with 2001 release End is Forever’s “Giving Up on Love.” No my friend, this is entirely different. In the track, Roe sings “"I'm not capable of love/ That kind of love/ That I felt when I was 21.” Turns out he’s also not capable of making the same music that gained him his fans.
I know what you’re thinking. “But Meg, they have to mature and progress.” Except The Ataris haven’t matured, they have only fit more into the mold of what is popular music now. They are on the verge of recent “hardcore,” you know, the kind that isn’t really hardcore, but instead just angry about nothing sounding and gloomy.
“Cardiff-by-the-Sea” has the sound of a matured version of The Ataris. Roe’s vocals are still that lame Creed-esque level of deep, but the music is more bouncy like the older stuff, along with the background vocal “oooo”-ing. But the echoey effects and Roe’s constant slur from low to high are bothersome. “Act V, Scene IV: And So It Ends Like It Begins” has the most classic sound overall. This final track on the album is true to its name; the album ends almost like the sound of before it began.
“New Year’s Day” is an upset from moment one when you realize the intro is the exact same as that of “Not Capable of Love” but without the distortion.
For the sake of The Ataris, I hoped this album was good. I wanted them to come back and bring my youth and nostalgia with them, but I wasn’t expecting something ground breaking. I received neither. I was gifted with The Ataris fitting into the mold, leaving the sound of a generation behind and an overall boring release.