Can we talk about Anthropologie, for a second?

Like any good broke but aspirational twenty-something, I have an Anthropologie rewards/frequent shopper card. I like to imagine that there will be a time when I'm wandering my elegantly ecclectic home, swathed in a gauzy floral dress, serving basil duck (in this fantasy, I can make Thai food) on whimsical dinnerware.

In reality, I think I've used my Anthro Card twice.


But, still, having it means that I'm entitled to...a birthday freebie! You know, like an email or a postcard with a coupon!
Or...

I guess you could send a 15% off coupon in a linen pouch with a teensy little star button. If you wanted to be all...Anthro about it.

The best night in television

Some times in life, there is a sentence that simply must begin with a "y'all".

Example: Y'all, it's makeover night on America's Next Top Model. I love makeover night. I love it in a way that I would express with capital letters and extra o's, but I've already y'alled today, and I try to only publicize one of my shameful speech tendencies per post.

Makeover night has the power to be one of the best episodes the Top Model season, because it's the one where the girls cry and you don't have to feel even sort of bad about it. I'm sure having to change your hair and having no choice in the matter sucks, but at this point, it's Cycle 83.7 or something; if your hair is "just such a huge part of who (you) are", then DON'T AUDITION. Because Tyra, it seems, created this entire show as an excuse to shave girl's heads, dip them in bleach, or boldly explore new territory in the world of weaves. In fact, as the cycles have gone on, it's basically divided into three makeover choices: Super-short/shaved head; world's longest weave, or as blonde as they can get your before your scalp bleeds enough that EMTs are called. Oh, and eyebrow bleaching. And yet, even when they get one of these obvious categories, these girls freak out because somehow, they thought they'd be the exception, and Tyra would deem their hair perfect just the way it is. It's not going to happen, darlings.

Except for last season (or was it the one before that?) where the girl LOST IT when she thought they were cutting her hair, and then the Jays said "J/K, we think you're the Queen of Magic Modelland!", which pissed me off, because seriously? Any other girl threw a fit like that and she would of been on the first bus home.


Anyway, the three rotating makeover options have gotten crazy dull, but there are always exceptions, and that's gives makeover night it's potential. It's the hope that somewhere in between finding different reference points for "it'll be a crap load of (potentially busted-looking) weave" Tyra will pop out with "I'm going to give you hair like a glittering horse's mane."

And, in case that happens, don't you want to be there?

I'd say it "get's my goat," except I would NEVER say "get's my goat"

I've developed a new pet peeve. Developing pet peeves is really something of a hobby of mine, and this one strikes the perfect balance of being fairly reasonable and kind of nit-picky at the same time.

I'm currently really annoyed with TV/Movie fashion. I've long since accepted the fact that the leads on any given TV show aimed at young people will dress in an improbably cool/hip/of-the-moment way, even if they're supposed to be drunken slobs. Further, I've had to embrace the fact that (in order to be fully make-over ready) nerds will often be beautiful people with their super-flattering haircuts artfully mussed to imitate a severe need for conditioner. Fine. I get that. That's just the reality of the situation.

But I've inexplicably decided to draw the line at all of these people dressing in $70 button-downs under $120 sweaters. I mean, if the person in question has a great job? Fine, I'll take it. But when it's a random high school student in the middle of Kansas (I'm looking at you, Lana Lang) it gets a little absurd.

Now it's possible that my parents were just wildly under-investing in my wardrobe, but back in my day if I wanted a $22 t-shirt from PacSun (shut up, we all have our phases), I was paying for that shit myself. If I had wanted the 60-some-odd-dollar t-shirt that the blonde girl of Secret Life of the American Teenager (the one who's always in the clips on The Soup) apparently wore last week, my mom would have laughed in my face. That's not even hyperbole. She would have looked at me, laughed, and walked away. And that would have been her WHOLE ANSWER.

Plus, though I'm loathe to even suggest this, isn't it kind of a missed opportunity on the part of the networks? As prevalent as product placement has become, why not outfit the cast of Glee in Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy, then air ads every episode offering the chance to dress just like Quinn Fabray for $20 per piece? Sure, it smacks of old 1950s television, where shows would have a full-on commercial as part of the plot, but that's basically come back anyway. Spending the first 30-seconds of a commercial break hearing about how Rachel put some pep in her step with Piper Lime ballet flats is no worse that Angela and Hodgins taking a fresh-off-the-lot Sienna Mini-Van to a crime scene, or Chuck Bartowski eating a $5-footlong while under fire from rogue spies. And it would have some pretty solid logic behind it.

I'm not suggesting that Blair Waldorf start wearing clothes from Kohl's (please, CW, don't make Blair Waldorf wear clothes from Kohl's), just that maybe characters' clothes should actually reflect things about the characters. Like age. Or employment level. Or income. Or whether they even care about their clothes.

Oh, and also? I wear the same jeans twice in a week so maybe shirts could pop up more that once per season.

Excitement!

I'm not a DC Comics person. I mean, I've seen all of the Batman movies, and until this season I watched Smallville (for some reason, about 5 episodes in, I just couldn't take it), but I was raised as a Marvel Comics girl. Which sounds kind of...intense, but for me, at age 10, that shit was serious. I had no patience for multi-verses and numbered Earths and super-alien boy scouts. I was too busy with alternate realities (but it was only one at a time, which is different), race- and/or sexuality-based allegory, and wanting to be Jubilee when I grew up.

Seriously. She was awesome. And underrated. And despite what a friend of mine asserted in college, she didn't "just shoot pretty lights out of her hands." She shot dangerous explosions out of her hands. Dangerous explosions that also happened to be pretty. But were also dangerous.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, though I spent my youth preaching the Evils of DC (except Batman, who I always thought seemed kind of awesome), I can acknowledge when they do something cool.

This is cool.

Wonder Woman's new costume kind of rocks. TLo pointed out that this is less iconic than her previous costumes, which (as far as I know) were all variations and updates on her orginal Star-Spangled look, but they were also essentially strapless bathing suits. You can't stem the tide of evil surging over your city/town/municipality in a strapless bathing suit. I'm fairly certain you can't even swim in a strapless bathing suit.

I think it's bad-ass. And the answer to "how does she keep her boobs for literally flying in the face of evil?" is "straps." Instead of "prayer." Or "decency laws."

Just...why?

Ok, this is officially TOO MUCH Project Runway. Season 8, which is premeiring on Lifetime on July 29, is the show's third season in the last year (season 6 premiered August 20, 2009 - I checked). That's a lot of dresses.

And not only is Lifetime throwing as many seasons at you as they can, but they're upping the show to 90 minutes. Ninety.

Look, I love Tim Gunn. I do. Deeply. And Nina Garcia is Captain Fantastico-Amazing. But that's a lot of time. I could do a lot with 90 minutes a week. Like cook. Or clean. Or write. Or watch an episode-and-a-half of Snapped.

If the show maintained its previous levels of awesome I might not mind as much. I mean, I still enjoy the show, and some of the season 7 designers were fun to watch, but they were leaving out all kinds of drama. For example, did you know that Tim and Emilio (he of the ridiculous initial print) got in fights like ALL THE TIME. Why cut that? Shit like that is the whole point of the show. I mean yes, the clothes are important too, but if that was all that mattered people would just skip to the runway show. The catty interpersonal stuff is what makes the middle 40 ( well, 70 now) minutes watchable.

My biggest issue is the show's "celebrity guests". Last season, they repeatedly fell on this crutch of having a super-special celebrity, and it’s ...HEIDI! Or, the designers are going to meet a fabulous and famous American designer and it’s MICHAEL! And you know what, Project Runway? That’s some sad, sad shit. For god’s sake even The Fashion Show (which was kind of painful) got Lady Gaga- couldn’t you manage Ke$ha (I mean, don't actually try and get Ke$ha. Please. Seriously.)? Or some CW actresses? Though even when they had Jessica Alba as a judge, they still had everyone design a dress for Heidi. When you get famous people in there, use them.

Or, even better, embrace your inherent Lifetime-ness. Call upon the networks existing stable of actress - they could dress Tori Spelling in modern re-imaginings of the costumes from Mother, May I Sleep With Danger. There could be a whole challenge inspired by the works of Kellie Martin. Some one could make a milk carton-shaped dress. I'd watch the hell out of that. Come on, Lifetime – make it happen.

There's something missing in my life

I've realized that there's a shortage of giant, ridiculous/amazing hats in my life. Royal Ascot just ended on Saturday, and the collection of giant British hats was... look, one of these things had a FACE. In the hat. One was a cheese plate. One seemed to be a LEGO Big Ben. It's freaking awesome. If you haven't seen photos, this GFY post and these TLo posts have some great rundowns.

I need an occasion to wear a giant (preferably LEGO) hat. But the thing is, I really have no interest in going to a horse race (since the only horse races I know anything about are Royal Ascot and the Kentucky Derby, in my mind all horse races feature people in giant hats. I know this is probably not true, but I like my way better). I mean, I can barely get myself to go to the freaking farmer's market. Giant events are not in my future. And I can't exactly mix myself a gin & tonic and put on a crazy hat to watch AbFab DVDs in my living room.

Actually, that sounds kind of awesome.

Except instead of gin & tonic I should probably do wine. Because then, if I just toss some goat cheese on a cracker, suddenly it's not getting smashed on my couch; it's being classy.

All I'll need is a big-ass piece of tulle, some ribbon, and a dream.


And the wine. Mustn't forget the wine.