who wore it better?

Obviously, Elijah Greer did.  I'm talking about the long, lush and behavin' freak flag.  While it's true,  Greer spent about two days and a boatload of product on the blowout, color, styling and ancillary makeup (we're dying to know the secret to that 12 o'clock shadow), the final look is effortless.  And worth it!

While there have been baseless rumors about Carrie Underwood being fast,  Greer's speed is well-documented. The recently graduated Oregon Duck, now Nike pro, covered a half-mile in one minute, 45.04 seconds, though it must be said, he was not wearing heels and his ensemble, while formfitting, was quite conservative.

tight gold sleeve (1) and bunhuggers (pair) key to high jump

I think this is high jumper Inika Mcpherson (I was sweating and practically in the next county when I took this photo) harnessing the super powers of the sun and concentrating them in the loin area and upper right arm via hi-tech gold lycra.  Do not try this at home kids.  Used improperly, such as in the checkout line at Cub or on the 21 bus, these bad boys could damage innocent bystanders and frighten children.  Obviously, she is a professional, using this two-piece turbosuit to launch herself 6 feet, 3-1/2 inches off the ground and possibly to Moscow (World Championships).  Ok, you knew it was coming... She has set the style bar very high. 

Thanks, I feel better now.

would you rather have hair like this or a million $$

Duh, the coin.  Because then strange damp people would not accost you in public places, take poorly framed photos and post them on the internets.  In the lottery of life,  this dude got the ability to cover 1500 meters fairly quickly and one heck of a head of hair, and is working both to good affect.  He says he gets a lot of comments about the hair -- some coming down on the side of cool,  some saying it's stupid (I'm assuming those are members of the Bald and Comb-Over Club of America).  He doesn't cut it because he is not a fool it's a Samson-esque source of super powers.  If you are thinking Biff is going to jump into his vintage VW van with the boards on top and head on back to Santa Cruz, you are stoned and middle-aged mistaken  --  our Ringlets-A-Plenty rep is a Michigander, born and raised, and attends Lake Superior State University.

Now here's where I try not to look like a sicko creep preying on under-age boys with pretty pretty hair that I absolutely did not touch show his purple shoes.

camouflaged

Somehow,  despite the stealth camo cardigan,  I detected this woman amongst the track fans at Drake stadium.  Was it the pink-pink-my-watch-is-pink,  or the custom Nikes developed with a chroma-crushing machine that smooshes color particles together under very high pressure such that the resulting volatile suspension has a half life?  Or was it the fact that,  even though she's swaddled neck to toe,  she is not wearing sweat swags that speak to a loss of one quarter of her total body weight like I everyone else was.

Because I didn't see enough swooshes over the weekend,  put on your post-retinal surgery glasses and have a gander at these kicks.

retro zebra

This is not that nasty old zebra that ran around on the Serengeti and got eaten by lions. Nor is it the size XL tent of polyester favored by herds of cougars grazing at Old Country Buffet.  Uh no no no.  Bolt of blue platforms elevate these bunwarmers to a 1940s retro sassy animal.  She is even now thinking, I am never coming to this watering hole again.

Go Bulls!

Quiet woman, but she gets her message across.  There is absolutely nothing not to like here.  I am only the tiniest bit concerned about what happens when she walks and the breezes blow.

Elton John is alive and I have proof

See?  Elton John, center,  left, and The Factory It girls. Or was that James Brown and The Workhouse It girls?  I get all confused when it comes to 1950s pop stars.  This dysfunction was triggered when I, foolishly,  asked these super-giant Asian-style buffets to snuggle up in one picture frame when even one alone on a white backdrop would cause smoke to billow from the ears and bleeding in the retinas, there is that much going on stylistically.  It was frankly irresponsible of me.  Thus irresistible.  Like the long-play version of Neil Young's Down By The River,  this post is best enjoyed at leisure with plenty to occupy your remaining gray cells for the duration of one very ample doobie.

We're now heading into that real long instrumental, and when we come to, we'll be, like,  J-Star man, is that you?  I thought you dead, man.  You the finest looking dead mofo...

Eden pair-y

White white white folks shirts sure look clean and well-educated -- man, you could eat off their solar plexuses. I hope these two bear that cross better than others who have appeared here.  The blue-eyed beauty on the right went high-high with head-to-toe Alexander Wang, with the notable exception of the fruity-licious skirt which is Stella McCartney.  She dressed her football captain man-cessory in denim rather than jeans.  #ivyleague.

guest blogger Tina

I can't be everywhere at once.  History has shown I can barely be one place at once without a lot of dissipation. So my guest blogger Tina went across the pond, to Pareeee, just to get this shot.  When she no longer wants to make money or friends, she has a super career as a street style stalker ahead of her. Here's her story on the photo:

Our group had walked to the Latin Quarter to check out the street markets and to see where a couple of the gal pals had stayed previously. One thing we had noticed both on the street and in store windows was brightly colored men's pants.....yellows, golds, and oranges seemed to be in particular vogue.  We had each brought at least one skirt with us should we decide to "dress" for dinner, or for Monaco. One of the gals had brought an animal print skirt, so the guy's pants and the woman's shoes are what first caught my eye. At first the couple was walking towards us, but they were too close to get a pic without being obvious and probably offensive, so I waited for them to go by and took it from behind.  I loved that everything about their outfits was coordinated....each on his/her own and also together.

Kind of like that saying that after a while people and their dogs start looking alike. I felt that about this couple. They had developed their style together.

 

Well played and well said.  I'm glad Tina played it safe -- dude is def packing some Dakar aftershave/pepper spray in his European man bag.  Thanks Tina! 

a smorgasbord for those little dogs that bite...

Ok, I get the socio-political message, and I applaud their creativity and the awesome tone of their calves -- shapely, defined, not too hirsute. Grrrrrffffff, I want to bite them, they're that tasty.  But imagine if you will,  the reflective cordon striking through this look at a slightly more oblique angle, as if to say NO god NO, short square men who support gay marriage should not expose their lower legs in a suit-like interpretation of Little Lord Fauntleroy, even for a good cause.  Especially when the cause is already supported by so many impeccably dressed men. Who know their way around a home waxing kit.

the shy one

Are you trying to tell me clothing does not reflect personality?

they got the memo

The memo that talked about wearing black with straight shiny bangs and red red lipstick.  Le difference that's worth vive-ing is that the woman on the left went red-orange and on the right, red-red with like a drop of blue in a great big vat of molten bubbling lipstick.  Boil boil toil and trouble... Smooth behaving hair that is not following its own dissipated and/or feral agenda fills me with admiration.

Voltage, before things got messy

I like to catch Voltage-goers pre-rave: They're cleaner and I don't have to stay up as late.  In an interesting twist,  dude here is showing some gam and his date is not, though we can see she has put her leg swaddling to good use as a phone caddy.  This guy was one of many who said his girlfriend chose his ensemble, which brings to mind the struggle to dress our Ken doll.  Barbie made things easy (well duh,  Barbie was easy) with her perma-pointed appendages, but Ken's feet were fixed in a flexed position making pants just fabric-ripping difficult.  But shorts were easier.  Or no pants at all, just a Hawaiian shirt.  I, for one, am glad the dresser above went with shorts.

fancy pants

I'll have the pants de la Raj with Bernaise sauce on the side (I like to apply condiments to clothing myself), Gladiator sandals from the Liberace musical version of that gory story and the perfect apple pie denim shirt ala Daisy Mae.  Brilliant, that these fancy Persian pants from Len Druskin took the paisley pretty part of that concept but did not feel the need to get all harem-y with the style. Successfully designed and interpreted here.  Once me and my bike-sweaty self got out of their business, I'm sure they had a lovely brunch.

midtown

Pink real leather that came from an animal not an extrusion machine in China with elbow vents that you can't see because I forgot to charge my camera?  This is high living my friends, by name, Lafayette 148.  Bonwits? Neimans?  Not even.  She scored this at a thrift store.  

Are you the foo' very smart person donating that nasty old Chanel skirt and those scuffed up by coming into contact with the earth once Oscar de la Renta pumps?  Out with the old, in with the more expensive?  Right on sister.  I encourage you to purge that piece o trash Lanvin (size n0 f00d) -- it's easy 37 minutes old. Out she go.

crafty

Crafty and wearing stripes and a long jacket/short dress dichotomy and very sharp menswear flats. And not succumbing to a sweatpant-manifested cold and grey funk.  Those are just a few factors that greenlighted this photo.  She's a recent St. Olaf grad in photographic theory.  That allowed her to make those sculptural earrings. And she knitted and felted that bag her very own self.  Here's how it's done:

1. Circular knit a tube about twice as long as you want your purse to be. Wool shrinks upward by half but not nearly as much width-wise.  Wash it on warm and dry flat, not in the dryer.  Repeat about 1000 times.  Sew up the bottom and attach some kind of strap/handle. 

or

If you're real talented, go to a thrift store and buy the biggest 100% wool sweater you can find in a pleasing combo of colors.  Start in with the washing and drying, as above. 

There's something seven dwarves/animated about felted wool that I adore.

Ten-year hair

 

 I have been reading this post over and realize it makes no sense whatsoever, so naturally, I left it alone.

But...

I don't want my adoring readers to get the impression I'm A) drunk and B) in the early stages of dementia. Not that these are not truths -- I just don't want to give that impression. So let me clarify. The woman above is a server at Sea Salt.  She has been growing her halo of hair for ten years!  It reminded me of 1960's radical Angela Davis' black-is-beautiful fro.  Then I found the photo below of Davis + fro + pipe.  = love.  Then I discovered via Wikipedia that Davis was a Che-Lumumba Communist.  Those are the ones that wear berets and are generally a bit more stylish in a reductionist t-shirt sort of way than the Mao Communists who wear shapeless black pajamas, or the Lenin Communists who favored babushkas. So now this post makes sense, right?

Who wore it better?  Much as I like my fish po'boy served up with a side of militance and a pipe, the woman above has been growing her hair longer than Angela's hard time -- ten years!  Plus Angela, a Che-Lumumba Communist, was not so much about the sort of delicious capitolism that Sea Salt represents. Big hair belongs to the some people!

 

Hair at Sea Salt

 

 See, the whole thing about street style is that it's not posed, insouciant, spontaneous and often messy, with wet dogs and hair, not every one in place. I am crazy about a lot o shit going on at the same time. Some people call it chaos.  I call it good. Plaid shirt is from Ragstock.  Red dreds are from Tuesday.

if you were a sociology major with a good job, you'd be smiling too

Just got home from the salt mines and looking professional in a soft science way (the shirt was tucked at the office, but she's cutting the noose and letting it loose after hours).  If she was in a hard science, like chemical engineering for example, the skirt would be woven, not knit, and the red scarf would be replaced by a thin gold necklace with her initials. If she worked for a nonprofit, she'd have on a long scary-hairy-no-worries skirt. If she worked for a tech startup, she'd be a boy.  She's a Macalester grad who segued gracefully into a job with the Department of Health.  Admissions is even now on the phone with me negotiating rights for a Soft Science Success Poster Child of the Year photo.  I'm playing hardball, really jonesing for a lifetime supply of mulch.