Independence Day

An update:

-I'm finished with my undergrad! I graduated in May and am currently steeped in a job search, which is exciting and scary all at once. I have a few interviews coming up next week-- some more promising than others-- so cross your fingers for me if you have a moment.

-In the meantime, I have an internship at the City of Minneapolis Department of Civil Rights and I am absolutely loving it. I get to assist Department attorneys with discrimination complaints and be a fly on the walls of city hall.

-After watching the film Man on Wire and then reading the book, I decided that I want to learn how to juggle. I told my mum this a week or so ago and when I came home last night I was surprised with a mystery package containing Juggling for the Complete Klutz, complete with a set of beanbags. After my first hourish of practice, I can get three bags going for about fifteen tosses before they inevitably go flying into something fragile or in all directions. I'm really enjoying it so far- it's step one on the long road to wire-walking and it gives me a feeling of accomplishment when I need it most.

-And, because no update is a real update without multimedia, here is a gem that Jason found:

Spring Break

I suck at blog maintenance. But I have excuses! Classes have been particularly insane this semester and I'm writing for La Prensa de Minnesota, a bilingual newspaper that covers the Twin Cities. It's a pretty boss setup- my editor, Marco, is fantastic and I'm getting lots of gritty real-world news experience (can we say anonymous sources? Aww, yeah). I also started a new job this week, so time is a pretty limited resource.

But spring break is upon the University of Minnesota and that means I get to return to the fortress in Milwaukee, WI for a week of relaxation, old friends and... paper-writing. Ugh.

Fortunately the springing of spring means more than warmer temperatures and a new season of America's Next Top Model. It means that Ugg boots are slowly but disappearing from the pavement. Thank goodness.

Women of Minnesota, free your feet from these giant burnt marshmallows. The aptly named Ugg boot is now even more impractical (if that's even possible) than it was back in December.
Sadly, the decline of hideous boots coincides with the downfall of pea coats, scarves and everything else I love about winter.

So I'm going to go home and dig some spring clothes out of the basement, sniffling all the while. Since time is on my side this week, I promise to post more over the next few days, including installment two of my Project Runway analysis and all kinds of crazy Milwaukee hijinks.

Everyone stay warm, and kick off the spring awesomely!

The Project Rundown, Installment One

First of all, I have to direct any Project Runway fans to Project Rungay, my favorite blog in the history of the universe. Two fabulous gay kids dissect every episode, complete with screenshots and cattiness. I’m not sure what they do in between seasons (probably just keep tabs on everyone), but we’re nearing the end of Season 4 so snide reviews of the designers are ripe for the picking.

In honor of the Season 4 finale, I’ve decided to give some awards to this season’s designers in hopes that they might console the losers who won’t be going to Fashion Week.


Most Potential: Simone
When I first heard Simone talking about her signature Victorian-meets-modern aesthetic, I got really excited. I think that mixing the old with the new is a really common concept for designers, but not commonly done right. Simone had a TON of ambition and I really thought she would deliver this season. Until she was eliminated in the first episode. I was really sad.

Best Dressed: Marion
Marion barely edged out Jillian for this category. I had him in my initial Top 3 just because his clothes are so adorable (self-described as “Oliver... with a little Twist”). Looking back, I think I was rooting for him just so I could copy his style for the rest of the season. Tom and Lorenzo at Project Rungay said his Newsies-inspired attire seemed a little bit pedophile-y to them, but whatever. I love little boys too and I’m not ashamed of it.

Best Catchphrase: Carmen
Carmen was eliminated after the menswear challenge (which, I’m sorry, was totally justified) but I’ll never forget what she said to Sarah Jessica Parker in episode 2. “Carmen like the opera, Weber like the baller.” HAHAHA, genius. Then Carmen was a big crybaby at the Season 4 reunion and we all pointed and laughed.

Queen Bitch: Jack
Jack Mackenroth never actually got auf’ed by the judges. He had to leave in episode 4 because of a nasty staph infection. He was funny and really a stand-up guy so it sucked to see him go. However, I just read an interview with The Advocate in which he talked boatloads of trash about my very favorite contestant, Chris (more on Chris in Installment 2). It really reminded me of Season 1's Vanessa Riley, who went bitch-crazy and slammed everyone on the show after she was kicked off. Not classy.

P.S. After Googling pictures for each of these contestants, I've decided that Jack also wins the "put some clothes on" award. I'm pretty sure that has about as many topless pictures on the internet as Tila Tequila. Speaking of which, I had pictures but technology hates me a lot so they'll come later.

Everyone tune in tonight to find out if Sissybear Chris March can beat out Ramilicious Kashou for a Bryant Park show and check back for installments 2+3.

My bad.

I apologize for posting so infrequently lately. Between school and the paper I'm writing for, it's hard to find time to squeeze in a shower, let alone some quality blogging. Also, I had an awesome spiel about my hideously awesome black jeans all typed it, but blogger decided to be a tool and mess up the formatting something fierce. So that's coming.

In the meantime, enjoy some of Christian Siriano's fierciest moments:



Coming soon: the promised pants post (love that alliteration) and my predictions for the end of Project Runway, season 4.

Our Heroine Rediscovers The Thrift Store

I’m kind of a merciless shopper. I tend to decide what I want, draw up a detailed plan of attack, and strike each store only long enough to find the object of my desire, try it on, buy it and leave. I’m willing to paw through racks of mismatched clothes to find a special something, but only if I don’t have a firm idea of what I’m looking for. It is for this reason exactly that I’ve almost completely avoided secondhand stores (save a trip to Goodwill when I had to buy dishes for my apartment).

So today when I had to go buy some black tights at Ruby Isle, the shopping center near my house that probably shares its name with a blung-out strip club in Vegas, I was planning to drop into Walgreen’s, grab the same kind I always get, and bolt for the door. On the way there, though, I passed Elite Repeat, the neighborhood consignment “shoppe” (yeah, they spell it that way) and thought “Oh, what the hell.” Recently poking my nose back into the blogosphere has reminded me that thrifting is like, the national sport of semi-educated youth, along with latte-drinking and, well, blogging.

A few words about Elite Repeat: As the name implies, however lamely, it’s a higher-end thrift place. They have a list of brands they don’t accept, on which you’ll find most store brands like Amy Byer (thank god) and Target’s Mossimo (unfortunate, because I love Target and I don’t care who knows it). When I used to walk over there and shop after putting in a day at the ice cream shop a few stores down, it was mostly staffed by middle-aged women who you just knew were trying to slip their old embroidered Christmas sweaters in with the Calvin Klein. When I went today, though, the employees were twenty-something waifs in black leggings and jersey dresses. All the more inspiration to shop fabulously.

Anyway, back to black tights- before I found them, I had a big “squee” moment. Imagine my delight when I found these for A DOLLAR:


That’s right, Evan-Picone hot pink tights in the original package for A FREAKING DOLLAR. I actually ripped the packaging in a frenzy to get them out and try them on before remembering that I should take a picture. I’m still deciding whether they’re legitimately adorable or just awesomely heinous, but you know what? It doesn’t matter because they were a DOLLAR.

So then I found what I had come for- a 2-pair package of Victoria’s Secret black stockings for $7, originally priced at $20. I really should have stopped there, but I was seriously having too much fun. I found an adorable granny cardigan from The Limited, a store I like but usually avoid because I’m cheap as hell. Apologies for the crap lighting- unfortunately, I don’t have a photographer’s studio in my bathroom.


Ever since I saw a Valentine Fillol-Cordier editorial shoot in the most recent Nylon magazine, touting her “sexy librarian style,” I’ve become a little bit obsessed with that intellectual, disheveled aesthetic. In addition to stealing a pair of my mom’s reading glasses (see 2 entries ago), I’ve been searching for pieces like this sweater that scream “Shh.”

And what good is a librarian sweater without a braided faux-pearl necklace? Now I’m outfitted to ace spring midterms (er, in two months) or yell at those punk teenagers to get off my lawn.


The moral of the story is that giving consignment stores a second chance was a really good idea. While the repeater didn’t have the suspenders I was lusting after, it was fun to stumble across treasure I wasn’t even looking for. And I got some awesome pink tights for a dollar.

There probably won't be any posts for a few days since I'll be in frigid Minneapolis, but I'll hopefully be posting a couple new projects and my Ph.D.-worthy thesis on legwarmers sometime after Monday.