Tuesday, February 23, 2010

talking trash

Since when did all it takes to become famous amount to being trashy, slutty and possess a feature of excessive size (eg, hair, tits or mouth)?

In my quest to become celebrity-savvy, I have discovered the underbelly of the rich and famous – the bottom-feeding “I want to be rich and famous”.

Fortunately in New Zealand we miss out on much of the televised trash that Americans love so much. Reality TV here consists of gung-ho kiwis sharing their experiences, occasionally a Survivor rip-off and low-budget talent quests. There is a vague element of reality.

Remnants of all that is real has been stripped from the American version and what we are left with is has-beens trying to return to relevance and wanna-bes desperately trying to get some.

What I find the most sickening is that these vapid, fame-whoring slappers and the hideous, retarded douches they chase after end up with the attention they so readily seek. Why are the Snookis and Jon Gosselins of the world cluttering my daily Perez intake? I know that reading the gossip blog is slightly trashy in itself, but why fill it with this societal garbage.

Do I care how often Octomom gets to the gym? Do I really need to know how Snooki gets her beehive so big? Do I ever want to see the scariness that is Flava Flav’s train-wreck-of-a-face in more than a 10 second ad between my regular programming?

Why are these people gaining notoriety for doing what normal people are scolded for?

Am I only encouraging the behaviour by mentioning them on such a high-brow outlet as my own blog?

Thinking about where it all began, I keep coming back to the Simple Life – it spring-boarded Paris and Nicole from socialite to celebrity status. These two actually have some talent, maybe one more than the other, and they moved on from their reality-show beginnings. Reality TV itself went pretty swiftly downhill from there – snowballing into the monster that it is today.

I guess the difference is I don’t mind watching trash about people who were already rich and famous before having a show. It’s like an extended version of E! But when TV becomes trash about trash I draw the line.

Do we really want to condone sluts scrapping it out to win some celebrity peen – only to be subjected to it for three more seasons? Do we need to know the secret lives of a couple who happens to have a shit-load of kids? And then hear about the bitch fight after the fame gets the better of the relationship?

My guess is no. But there they are. They’ve even made it to Debris.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Crop circles

Not so long ago I wrote something about fashion cycles and how we can only hope that we never go back to the tummy tops of the 90s. Even now, say the word “crop top” and I think of what we wore under our shirts in intermediate because we didn’t quite have anything going on there but thought better than to be naked beneath our clothes.

I shake my head in disappointment at the latest trend to hit celebutards, Australians, and tweens. I blame Supre one hundred percent! Cropped singlets. They are in shops and on bodies around the world. But why, I ask, WHY??? I thought we’d gotten past all that tummy-bearing palaver and come to a better place. A more modest place. A more fashionable place.

But there they are – just inside the door at Supre – that means it’s the newest thing and every teenager walking past should buy one. Now you might be thinking, maybe it’s time you stopped shopping at such stores hazel, maybe you’ve grown too old for it – but it’s not that. You can still find some good stuff in there if you walk past the tween-enticing door fodder. It’s just that it promotes such things to easily influenced youngins that are too young to know what a terrible terrible mistake they are making. They weren’t around in the 90s to remember how bad it was then, but I tell you, 10 or so years from now they’re going to wish they knew better.

I mention Aussies because in Melbourne atm, supposedly Australia’s fashion capital, girls are not only wearing crop tops, they’re wearing them with leggings. Breaking two rules at once you crazy kids, why I oughta... (Thanks to my informant for keeping me up to date!) I know it’s hot over there but do you have to walk around with your bum and tum out.

What is this world coming to?!

Anyone over the age of 17 spotted wearing this fashion calamity should be reported to Debris for public punishment right away. I can only hope that this blip in our fashion sense disappears before it comes to that.

What’s next? Tying knots at the waist?!

I understand that we can’t trust celebrities like Miley and Lindsay to set the right trends – what scares me is the influence these people have on fashion around the world. At least other celebs can blame the Rachel Zoes of tinseltown for putting them in the wrong direction, but I somehow suspect that these two chose their outfits all on their own.

I know there’s a “California girl” look going on at the moment, but that doesn’t mean fashion has to go all 90210 on us!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

What's the Theme?

Sevens fever just hit Wellington and although I joined in with the post-game drinking action on Friday night, I failed to play dress-ups. Wondering through the streets in my work clothes, I felt more than a little out of place, and even more envious, because I sure do love a good costume party.

However I couldn’t help but notice that for many young girls, the definition of “dressing up in costume” actually meant “dressing down in underwear”. Well close to it anyway. If you’ve attended a few costume parties in your time you’ll have probably noticed there is always a slutty sailor, policewoman, nurse or other uniformed occupation. It seems that some girls can't think outside the square and just want to look as sexy as possible regardless of the theme.
Sure, it’s a chance to wear something a little more risque than usual, but I’d like to see costumes that are a bit more original and more importantly, amusing. The Sevens are a bit of an exception; I was thoroughly impressed with the girls who put in that extra bit of effort rather than doing a mad dash to the costume store and grabbing the nearest flesh revealing get-up. Highlights included blue Avatar-people, Geisha’s, Crayons, and Mcdonald’s items.
But get away from the Sevens and back to your average birthday celebration and the creativity levels seem to drop horrendously. The guys seem to get it right, maybe it has something to do with the fact that they don’t mind making a dick of themselves, but I always feel that many girls aren’t even trying.
I always envy the blokes. There are so many cooler male icons to dress up as; in fact I’ve managed to earn myself a reputation as dressing up like a dude at parties. At my 20thbirthday I had a ‘musician’ themed party - I was joined by a female Benji Madden (lead guitarist, Good Charlotte), Shania Twain, a very white Destiny’s Child, Frank Sinatra and yours truly, Axl Rose.

At a friend’s 21st back in 2006 the theme was “dream occupation” – I turned up with a foam board guitar and a bottle of Jack, dressed as none other than rock god Slash. The end of the night saw me pulling a Pete Townsend and destroying the faux Les Paul.
A Halloween party in 2008 had me piling on the white face paint and heading out the door as Sweeney Todd, hair cutting instruments included. Might I mention that at the same Halloween party I saw a very short-skirted, midriff-baring sailor – how is that spooky??

Don’t worry its not all cross-dressing, other costumes include Cyndi Lauper at an 80’s party in  2005 - Maverick (Top Gun), a Ghostbuster, Madonna and Jem also attended. At a ‘Las Vegas’ party I pulled out the white tights and black paint and went as a white tiger (think Sigfried & Roy). Again, there were some very out of place costumes on the ladies, such as Snow White.
Juliet from Shakespeare’s famous play showed up to a ‘Movies” party – which was especially interesting as it was hosted by a gay couple who aren’t afraid to use a bit (or a lot) of makeup…
I admit I broke the rule last year at my brother’s 30th and went for the sexy option – the theme was “Beginning with A’ so I stole Avril Lavigne’s look on the Girlfriend video. But at least it wasn’t just pointless sluttiness!
Coming up in three weeks is an 80’s prom party. I haven’t yet managed to find anything to wear but we’ll see. With all the giant bows, puffy sleeves and shoulder pads its sure to be giggle. Let hope the ladies use their brains a bit.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Failing Fashion

Mondays are bad.
  1. It means the end to weekend activities (which if you’re me, is pretty much nothing)
  2. I actually have to get up in the AM’s.
  3. CLOTHES – not sure wearing hobo jeans and hoodie would go down well in the office so a Sunday night preparation of outfit is a must. 

The first day of February saw me failing miserably at Monday-ness. Strange fact, I’m one of those people who never needs an alarm. This day however I woke up fifteen minutes late which is VERY bad as my usual morning routine allows me just enough time for getting to work….five minutes late.

So, as I crawl out of bed and attempt to pry my super-glued eyes open, I realise I have not performed my night-before clothing ritual. This may not seem like a big issue but I assure you it is the beginning of a fashion nightmare. It begins with a newly bought summery, leopard print dress from Principles.

Adding to my dilemma, I realise that summer in Wellington has once again abandoned us; not only is it raining but its bloody freezing. Such weather calls for tights and the first pair I happen to find are black, adorned with a criss-cross tartanesque pattern. And of course one can’t leave the house without a trusty cardigan; in my dazed state I tell myself that a cream one will go nicely with the rest of my outfit.

No time for makeup, it’s out the door.

Surprisingly I make it to work only two minutes late. That’s practically early!

However I soon realise that I actually look like a complete idiot and that yes, I have taken an extremely summery dress and mixed it with extremely wintery tights –it’s a bit like wearing a scarf and a bikini. Geometrically patterned tights do not go with leopard print. Leopard print does not go with cream cardi. My face does not go with public consumption. And my biggest pet peeve, my hair is at the end of its two-day wash cycle and looks as though I have immersed my head in a deep fryer.

I find it hard to concentrate on my work when I know how much of a retard I look, or think I look. And I may sound shallow but I pride myself on looking and feeling somewhat lovely when at work. A girl has to have standards! To add to my misery I had a complete shoe crisis - not usually a problem for one who stores four pairs under her desk.

I'm sure there is a way to pull off the summer dress - tights - cardi combo but I sure as hell failed. 

This was not a one-off occasion. I often have days of waking up late with no preparation. Or Wellington does its thing and flicks the weather switch. Either way I just have to suffer and hope no one really notices (my colleagues aren’t exactly flaunting haute couture so I’m mostly safe). 

So, take a little comfort in knowing that us fashion conscience gals aren’t always up to standard and occasionally we fall a bit behind. And don’t worry, I’m not going to give Bob Geldof and his Boomtown Rats anything to write about. 

Friday, February 5, 2010

sheer delight

Matching, or cleverly mismatching, with the biker jacket and hard-edged clothing of late has been the beautiful femininity of sheer materials. Although it means investing in either some gorgeous underwear that you want to show off, or slips and singlets to hide your granny pants, sheer fabrics have added an extra element to the layered look.

When you’re going for a look, it’s easy to get carried away with one idea and take it to the extreme. In fashion, a balanced look is created by taking the best of two looks and mixing them up.

Floaty sheer fabrics mixed with gladiator heels and a leather jacket creates this divine biker-fairy chic that’s one of the hottest looks around in my books. And it’s easy to take from hot summer day to breezy night. Now if only I could get my hands on a jacket that is cute, cheap and not going to go out of style before next winter I’d be set!

When doing sheer, remember to cover up the right places. Britney tried and failed at her return to the Grammys this year to pull off a sheer black D&G dress. But she pairs it with a black body suit and what appear to be fishnet stockings (two types of netting, no Britney, just no) and topped off with her dark (poorly-styled) hair. It was a complete fail, and I’m very pleased that Joan Rivers and the rest of the team on Fashion Police agreed with my disdain. There were a lot of hanging, shaking heads.

The idea of slips has been lost for a long time now but Glassons has been selling them this summer season, even giving them away with sheer dresses. It’s a blessing for all those who would otherwise go free underneath and walk around with brightly patterned bras for all to see. People are more inclined to realise they should be wearing something underneath if they don’t have to think for themselves.

Sheer brings an essence of sophistication, femininity and playfulness if it’s done right. As ususal, if left to their own devices, fashion sheep will fail with great zeal.

Monday, February 1, 2010

OMGWTF it's BDO 2010

Being a frequent concert-goer, I often need to find ways to amuse myself while waiting for my beloved Billy-Joe Armstrong or Matt Bellamy to arrive on stage. Enter the OMGWTF spotting game. It’s pretty basic – the first person to spot that idiotic girl in high heels scores the first point. Second point goes to whoever spots the “hound skirt” (hope you don’t mind me borrowing lingo Haze!) This may sound silly but I can assure you there’s at least one at EVERY gig.

Big Day Out 2010 in Auckland was sure to be a breeze at scouting clod-hopping chicks and almost-offensive skirts/dresses – not only did my friend and I score the first two points, we hit the fashion disaster jackpot.

For anyone in their mid to late twenties, you will remember that ever so famous video of Mariah Carey’s, Fantasy. Cast your mind back to those high-wasted denim cut-offs and the loose, baggy sweater. That was oh so cool back in the 1990’s – hell, I wanted to be Mariah Carey. But the times they a-changed and the fashion wheel turned once more.

Apparently someone forgot to tell the youth of 2010.

I thought I had travelled back twenty years; it was a DENIM EXTRAVANGANZA. And don’t be fooled, I’m talking males too. For the first hour or two it was torture not to point and laugh and scream “OMGWTF!”, but gradually I got used to it. Until….

Yes that’s right, some misinformed young lass forgot that having your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of your shorts was a no-no.

I would like to thank this girl for ruining my time with Ladyhawke – how am I supposed to keep up with “Paris is Burning” when I have bum-galore right in front of me???

Following the horrific butt cheek incident, my clever friend not only spotted someone in heels, but this woman had a pair of flats tied to her backpack. IDIOT.

Other fashion disasters of the day included bikini-tops -  thousands of them (I had considered wearing a bikini top under my singlet but then I remembered I have a brain, and some well earned dignity) And how could I forget my wonderful time at the front of the crowd, watching legions of fat girls get pulled out of the crowd (because they’re dehydrated, not because they’re fat) with their goods spilling out all over the show. COVER UP YOUR ‘ASSETS’ PEOPLE.

I know you want to look sexy at concerts – but practicality and comfort should always be a priority. If you’re there for the music you’re most likely to end up a sweaty mess anyway. This doesn’t mean you have to look un-fashionable, just ditch the heels and the ridiculous dresses and opt for some sneakers, shorts and a T-shirt instead. This will not only save you from unwanted mosh-pit ass grabbing, but will save your dignity from going flying out the window.


I have never seen so many black t-shirts in Wellington in my six years here. And we’re notorious for wearing black down in the capital. There was an interesting crossover in Wellies this weekend with two nights of bogan-flavoured mayhem brought on by AC/DC fans mixed in with the fashionistas that exited the city for the Wellington Cup.

Upper Hutt is not usually synonymous with fashion, but we all flocked out there on Saturday for some style and racing action. And I’m not saying that all the bogans that flooded the city came from the Hutt/Wainui way, but I’m surprised that there wasn’t more conflict at the train station as the two groups passed eachother.

What I especially enjoyed over the Black Ice weekend was the bogan combo deal. Not just groups of friends bonding in black, but the father-son combo was common (and hilarious), but an even greater find were the black-clad, bleach-blonded and be-mulleted families roaming the streets in search of a bourbon and coke (so I stereotypically assume). It was great!

Everyone was extremely well behaved though and we’re in for another big weekend with the Seven’s coming up. There’s usually a bit more mayhem that comes along with Sevens-goers, but this weekend was good preparation for the mass migration into the city.

I particularly enjoyed one comment made by a visiting bogan to a contributor, which was: “Wellington is stink. I said hello to these people on the street and they didn’t say hello back.” Well, my bogan friend, I hate to say it, but even here in the big city (probably even more so, in fact) people generally don’t talk to random mullets on the street just because you say hello to them. They’re more likely to think you’re a) drunk, b) ignorant out-of-towner who doesn’t deserve a fleeting moment’s attention, c) about to ask them for something or d) mentally impaired.

Don’t be offended, we just know an outsider when we see one. Chur.