U-S-A U-S-A

The shirt, he go boom.  The shorts, he go boom boom. But the licorice whip laces, he go a-boom boom boom.  This was after the US scored the second goal and before we got carried away and let whoever tie it up in the last 9 seconds, so everyone was like, It's so great we don't bite (ha) at a sport we didn't invent, thus I think I'll get wasted.  Well not everyone.  Some of us were keeping it classy. I was given to understand that the shorts have found employment beyond just World Cup Soccer and job interviews, so it's not like he wasted that $459.  I always say, if you're gonna gird yer loins in stars 'n stripes, keep the accessories manimal.

who invented stripes?

She's working the door (no, that's her job), working the stripes, working the mane, working the read-my-lipstick, working the snug ankle booties, and come to find out, working her mom's closet.  You heard me. She's home from college for the summer and borrowed this whole shebang -- hair, stripes, everything -- from her mom.  Which makes me say, Right on mom. Also, right on daughter, for getting a job.  And somehow looking super Danish.  Which I associate with healthy living and good design.

Pay no attention to that reflection. It looks so German.

I like my math + econ majors with a side of style

You wouldn't know it from this photo but her head had recently exploded due to a math final, and it was causing her to wonder about, nay dread, the next 27 years of graduate study in her chosen double major of math + economics.  Questioning is healthy, and we can see that she has not given up on life -- hopelessness is not occasioned by tasteful accessories, I can tell you that.  

I try to be helpful when I run onto young people from Hong Kong, far from home and in a fragile condition, so I validated her feelings and said, yes, her chosen career path sounded like a living hell but it was not too late to change majors.  I think Robert Downey Jr. said it best -- if you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be a horrible warning.  Or maybe that was Prince. I was wearing a helmet at the time.

mother-of-the-bride and other diseases

I searched "mother of the bride dress" and this came up, which -- ridiculous --  what do you do with the axe at the reception? 

So I narrowed the search to "52 yards of light-grabbing polyester faille in a color called Migraine that will stand, walk and talk on its own after I'm incapacitated by a couple cocktails,  cover yet manage to accentuate every piece of cheesecake I've ever eaten, with some sparkle because this is an effin formal occasion, and for god's sake put a frame around my ample bosom assets"

Nailed it.

Boy,  I'm picky though.  I want something that really says Special Occasion,  like the first night you spent in jail.  So back to the Dollar Store drawing board.  I'mma make an inspiration board of stuff I like. You can chime in too, but don't be offended if I blow off your "suggestions."  If it doesn't involve chicken cutlets*,  forget it.

*This term was introduced to me by daughter #1.  It's the industry name for raw chicken-colored sticky nipple covers for use under sheer clothing that negate the purpose of sheer clothing.  Despite the silliness, or because of it, I'm in love with chicken cutlets.

On with the horror the horror inspiration...

Alright, this has been helpful but let's dig deeper, really let loose... It's a process, people, sheesh.

new face of Target?

Meet Jasmim, a multicultural model with Vision who just did a photo shoot for Target.  She's just black enough, white enough, maybe hispanic, pretty enough, tall and thin enough to make everyone and their uncle say, Heck yeah, gonna get some Merona into my life. 

But hear me oh judgers who think her life is a whole lot easier because of genetically gifted femurs:  Fat people, short people, people with moles, dumb people, those with noses like tubers and a smile like the state of Oklahoma -- THEY ALL HAVE IT JUST AS HARD AS SHE DOES.  She spent whole decades of her life not caring about her size 0 hips and her perfect teeth, but rather fixated on her 1000-watt hair. And not liking it. She's looked like this since she was 16.  She's 31, and just turned pretty.  Liking yourself is a long hard road, as anyone who has caught their reflection in a window and thought, Damn I didn't know Barry Manilow was in town*, can attest, but that's what makes Jas and you me so much more than a pretty face.

*Strictly an example pulled out of thin air that has not happened to me.

green

We interrupt this intensely green experience with a matched set of chestnut hair and briefcase, both pretty intense in their own right. We were receiving some sort of electrical charge from the glowing grass Sims set we found ourselves in, reachable only by bike. It was mildly pleasant.  Her honey of an ombre job is in fact hair what's left of a whole head of blond, making it officially The Best Growout In The World. She scored the tenured leather bag at a garage sale. Verdant jodhpurs led me to ask if she did any riding, which she does -- and she pointed to her bike.  While she has a going career ahead of her as a sassyperson for Ireland,  she's nonetheless putting in the final minutes of high school at the Performing Arts High School where she is a jazz pianist and vocalist.

white

Man, she is going to mess me up.  
But before I get out of her business,  I want to call on all runners to take a trip back to 2000 or so -- those split shortie shorts?  These are the longer version, which I love because they're chic rather than appalling, rendered by Zara in Dairy Queen vanilla.  I think we were standing directly under one of those holes in the ozone. Judging from her expression,  I'd say the harsh light was not doing my eye bags any favors. Which is one of the horrors environmental scientists  have not even begun to talk about.