never.
Showing posts with label the fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the fashion. Show all posts
18 May 2009
11 March 2008
The Shoe Post Redux
Achtung, untight things: I am super sleuthy today. After some lite web research, it appears that the people responsible for the Performance Running Sandals brought to our attention by Becca, i.e. Bite Shoes, are naturally part of the Croc family o' scary comfort footwear. Behold the proof pudding:
Seriously, though, three separate product lines of Crocs? Market share greedy much?
I should note that the chefs I knew while working as a waitress in my halcyon DC days loved them some Crocs. I should also note that the chefs in question wore naught but black Crocs as part of the standard-yet-goofy chef's ensemble with a strictly functional raison d'etre. With that said, there is nothing I hate more (NOTHING, I SAY) than people who go around making ugly things trendy by setting themselves apart with the comfort thing, thus reinforcing the narrow concept that fashion by its cruel nature always = pain. False! Those people must tighten.
Meanwhile, back on the ranch of superior alternatives:
Witness Camper. Trust the Spanish. As my mother always says, if the shoe you've got in your hand at the store doesn't say Italy or Spain on it, put it down, and walk away.
Auf Wiedersehen, pets.
Seriously, though, three separate product lines of Crocs? Market share greedy much?
I should note that the chefs I knew while working as a waitress in my halcyon DC days loved them some Crocs. I should also note that the chefs in question wore naught but black Crocs as part of the standard-yet-goofy chef's ensemble with a strictly functional raison d'etre. With that said, there is nothing I hate more (NOTHING, I SAY) than people who go around making ugly things trendy by setting themselves apart with the comfort thing, thus reinforcing the narrow concept that fashion by its cruel nature always = pain. False! Those people must tighten.
Meanwhile, back on the ranch of superior alternatives:
Witness Camper. Trust the Spanish. As my mother always says, if the shoe you've got in your hand at the store doesn't say Italy or Spain on it, put it down, and walk away.
Auf Wiedersehen, pets.
04 March 2008
Pants on fire would be OK.
Look at those pants. LOOK AT THEM. They are balloons floating around the dark, fiery skies of fashion hell. I refuse to look like an oopma loompa this fall. Parisian designers, tighten up.
19 February 2008
Magazine Reader Wishes She'd Averted Eyes
In the interest of full disclosure, I've been having unpleasant nightmares the past couple of nights (my id needs to tighten up). And now thanks to New York Magazine's spring fashion issue -- featuring nude photos of Lindsay Lohan as the soon-to-be-dead Marilyn Monroe -- they will likely never end. Also, I'm not sure what the magazine is trying to tell me about spring fashion, exactly. "Dark haired people who wear black a lot: try again next year"? So now I'm feeling grossed out AND hated on. Thanks a heaping lot, En Why Mag.
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