I am all about the high waisted shorts, pant, and skirt. For those like me with a 2 month baby bump, without the baby, it is an ideal way to multi-task. High waisted bottoms give an outfit a retro look, hides the belly, shows them curves by pinching at the waist (our smallest bodice measurement) and accentuating the hips, and helps us look like we know what’s up. Now thats multi-tasking.
This is Grand Old Uncle George – no, not great, GRAND, like what British people say. And I have to tell you…he’s kind of changing my worldview. Where once I might have eschewed a plate of pickled porcine pods, I’m now finding that they sound oddly appealing; appetizing, even. Where once I might have mocked Crocs for lacking in aesthetic appeal, I now find myself strangely drawn to them, for they are both comfortable and durable.
This is what happens when you wear your clothes, and you don’t let your clothes wear you. I think I’mma trek out to the farm on Oahu, kick off my uncomfortable heels and high-fastening pants, and become one with the nature, Crocs and ironic t-shirts that aren’t at all ironic because that’s not what ironic means.
And can I just say: the glasses are legit. How many Shanghai hipster kids would kill for a pair of frames like that? Several, is the answer to that question.
photo from Petite Quelque Chose
Confused.
Not everyone wants to be “pretty” all the time. Just sometimes. A good example of someone who is just plain pretty but doesn’t always feel the need or desire to be fully made up in makeup and attire and looks better than grand is Miss Dunst. Subtle, understated, effortless looks are probably the hardest to acquire, if they are acquire-able.
Unconfused.
photo by Natalie Wang
Sometimes it can be really hard to say goodbye. I know from sad, heartbreaking experience. When the butt on my favorite Levis wore out and I had to turn them into the sluttiest Daisy Dukes this side of Daisy Mae Clampett, it turned out that I couldn’t wear them in public because, in fact, they were too slutty.
When the inner thighs of my favorite Diesels wore out I asked a tailor to please do anything in her power to repair the damage. She went over them so many times with needle, thread and pusher foot that my thighs were, much to my chagrin, no longer able to reside in said jeans.
So I know how it feels. Believe me. But this? Well. I have a word.
This, to quote a favorite red-headed bombastic secretary from a certain slick show, is EGREGIOUS. When the three-headed dog that guards the gates of Hades tears a hole in the butt of your trousers, you throw them out. You do not try to negotiate the hole by wearing men’s underwear (which, for the record, I kind of like, but in the privacy of your own home, please). Indeed, those self-same underwear that are protecting your tuckus from exposure are giving you the dreaded: muffin top. Now, this is something that that can happen to even skinny folk. But more importantly, it is also something that can also be completely avoided. By purchasing – and wearing – clothes that a) fit and b) are whole. It’s science.
P.S. Has your mom ever pretended to pose with an umbrella so that it doesn’t look like you’re trying to take a picture of someone at a flea market with a giant hole in their pants? You should try it.
P.P.S. Why are two famous dumb country girls from fictional TV shows both named Daisy? Maybe we should grant someone a Fulbright Scholarship to study that.
Isn’t she just about the cutest little potato you ever did see? And I’m well aware that describing someone as a potato may not seem flattering, but I truly mean this in the most adoring sense of potato-ness. Even though I’m not the hugest fan of navy (the blazer) and black together, I can forgive this little Hong Kong cutie because she makes me go, “Geeeeeeeeeeeee!” At my desk. By myself. In front of my computer. Don’t worry, it’s cool.
By the way, the title of this photo when it was sent to me was “idliketorollyoudownthestreet” and I can only say that I am in complete agreement. Strange things happen when cuteness is involved.
You too can look like a hot tudou:
As I’m sitting here writing this, the clouds outside the window loom near, the droplets piddle down the window, and I’m mentally shopping for sweaters online. Shame.
The point is: summer is coming to a close. It’s inevitable. But don’t look back in anger – look back with abundant, loving joy. All those barbecues with great friends and delicious food. That deep golden tan you got on your relaxing vacation in Bali. Fully grasping the significance of the Pimm’s Cup even though you’re not British. And those lovely, patterned, long flowing dresses you wore because they faithfully hide under-boob sweat.
The summer is fading. The days are gradually shortening. Soon, we will be covered from head to toe in woolly hats, scratchy scarves and the dreaded tights that pinch our tummies no matter where on our torso they sit. Therefore, let us revel, in our Rainbow sandals, for a few more precious weeks, in what is left of the summer that was. And then let us hibernate in front of the television for several months as we watch entire seasons of Doogie Houser, M.D. in a single day while the unfortunate delivery man sloughs through sleet to bring us our Mediterranean take-out, for which we will not tip him, because we live in China.
Bid an early hello to next year’s season:
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