Twinkle Toes

Anyone else notice how J. Crew totally went off its meds this year and the results are magical?

I've spent the morning at work compiling my Christmas list, and although I set myself a $40 Global Economic Collapse Christmas List Item Limit, I decided to take a peek at J. Crew to see what I can't afford. As a lazy girl who likes attention, I find that the quickest way to meet both demands is by always wearing one vibrantly colored piece of clothing. As a result, I'm usually not a fan of J. Crew's loafers, cableknits and twinsets in various pastel hues. And don't get me wrong, they still have all that shit. But now you can get them in like, hot pink!

OR! You can opt for these:

This looks like something I would have concocted when I was 10 by hotgluing fake feathers from Michael's to some shoes out of the Dress-Up Drawer! It's all, "Wait, am I trudging around rainy Seattle or have I somehow just stepped into Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium?"

There was a time in my life when pretty equaled sequins. J. Crew's totally traditional, staid old a-line skirt? HOW ABOUT COVERING IT IN SPARKLES:

Hey, model. You are wearing a skirt that looks like liquid gold. How about you cut the jaded nonchalance crap and rise to the occasion? There's even a huge bow attached:

I love that they put it with a thermal tee that looks snuggly enough to sleep in. Because isn't that sort of the whole ethos of style as a child? You're imagination is just like, out of control and you want to be the kid on the playground wearing the raddest shit, but, you know, nap time is also a consideration. That's why I hate the way Katie Holmes dresses Suri, except for those sparkly red Wizard of Oz flats she wears sometimes. What kid gravitates towards neutrals?

Of course all of this is well out of my price range. But it is nice to see that if J. Crew is going to charge a bajillion dollars for their stuff, at least they're serving it with a little 'tude.

I'll eclipse your new moon

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while, I've been a little busy lately.

With what, you ask? Papers? Finals? Work?

No.

This:

All you tools who think you're too good for this series can go cry and read whatever it is you read. I'll be on my couch eating pretzels, squealing over sparkly vampires in meadows and enjoying the deliciously terrible writing by the raddest Mormon since Brigham Young.

And the writing is bad. Meyer has these little descriptive catchphrases that she uses over and over and over, my favorite being "...said so-and-so, through unmoving lips." Jigga, what? I tried this, I tried talking without moving my lips. I worked at it for about 10 minutes before I realized that there are people in the world who dedicate their entire lives to perfecting this craft. They're called ventriloquists.

And of course the whole thing is a thinly veiled chastity lesson. Um, a 17 year old girl who will literally get the blood sucked out of her if she bones her boyfriend? Couple that with the cover of the second book in the series...

...and you realize that subtlety is not high on Meyer's priority list. But still! The...the...seventeen-ness of it all is magical. J.K. Rowling may have the upper hand when it comes to plot, narrative, blah blah blah, but homegirl wishes she could write unmitigated teenage angst like this.

I'm about to start the 3rd book in the series, Eclipse, and the inside flap is taunting me with the following sentence: "With her graduation quickly approaching, Bella has one more decision to make: life or death. But which is which?"

INDEED!