1.05.2014

Juanuary: If you're latino, why are you white?

Happy Juanuary, mijas!!

Chris Harrison decided best to corrupt our sabbath with a Sunday "countdown" edition of The Bachelor. This is exciting because I'm half way through a glass of wine on an empty stomach.

Juan looks like this:


He sounds like this:

I haven't watched the saga that is The Bachelor since season de Sean. Entonces, I'm not muy familiar con Mr. Juan Pablo.

But I can gather this much about Juan:

1. His voice does not match his appearance.
2. He has a child. Maybe two. Not positive.
3. He is over 32. Or 31. He's an old ass, either way.
4. I am going to spend the remainder of the season making golden JUAN jokes. I CAN'T JUAIT!!!!!!
5. All these dumb white girls are trying to learn espanol already. Girl, DO YOU WANT TO BE DUMPED IN TWO DIFFERENT LANGUAGES?????? TAKE A SEAT.

People who go on this show are a different breed. All of these girls are so thirsty, it's amazing they aren't hospitalized for dehydration. How are you already so obsessed with Juan??? You have never met him???? Why are you competing with 20+ other girls chasing after a man you don't even know if you like? #DESPERATEDEBBIE But that's how the show works, and it makes good TV, which makes good blogging material. I'm not judging these girls--I'm simply saying that they're all fucking insane.

I really enjoyed the part when they went to Juan's hometown and showed us his family, and what he's about. It reminds me of the segment on the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show when they show the models back stage and have them talk about their lives and growing up. It's basically the same story: Hot person with a foreign accent makes it big in America and swears that "they're the biggest dork in the world."

My favorite part was when Juan Pablo's uncle addressed him as "Juan-Carlos." Like LOL HI, DO YOU EVEN KNOW YOUR SOBRINO??????? ARE YOU A PAID ACTOR??? DID YOU LITERALLY JUST GET HIS NAME WRONG?????????????? I'M ROLLING IN MY SILLA LAUGHING.

Now getting serious.

The part about Gia really kind of pulled a tear out of my eye. The Bachelor is all fun and games UNTIL SOMEONE DIES????????? I also accidentally inhaled lemon juice 4 minutes before they played the memorial segment, but that is another story and that is besides the point. I'm glad they honored Gia during the show. It's easy to see she positively influenced other people on the show.

Now getting silly again.

These are my predictions for this season of The Bachelor, Juan Pablo.


Lucy: Most likely to take a selfie on the show
The epitome of why people can't stand Gen Y. Extremely and overly excited/bubbly. She's one of the youngest on the show, and IT ALREADY SHOWS. She will probably want to talk about her favorite Gossip Girl episodes and know all the latest funny videos on Vine. What kills me the most about Lucy? SHE LISTED HER OCCUPATION AS "FREE SPIRIT."
YOU MAKE UNPAID INTERNS LOOK DOWN ON YOU. Oh and apparently she's friends with Kate Upton, so homegirl is bound to be begging for a chance to name-drop that like an atomic bomb.
Sharleen: Most likely to dress like a baby prostitute
Renee: Most likely to be Jennifer Aniston

Lauren S.: Most likely to be a Rap God.
Homegirl is from Detroit, so you KNOW she grew up in a trailer on 8 mile, participated in rap contests, was married to a woman named Kim, and has a daughter named Haylee. America is rooting for you, L.
Kylie: Most likely to wear a fake-diamond bow tie ring.
Kelly: Most likely to be a snooze cruise.
This gem wrote her occupation as "dog lover." DOG LOVER. If you're unemployed and going to fill in that blank with something else, AT LEAST BE HALF WAY WITTY ABOUT IT.
Kat: Most likely to be too good for Juan.
This bad ass backpacked across Australia for four weeks BY HER SELF. She is adventurous and obviously a model, so unless she's a raving witch or has 6 toes, then she's probably above Juan and this whole show.
Danielle: Most likely to benefit from FRIZZ-EASE BY JOHN FRIEDA. 
Chelsie: Most likely to be a secret psycho.
I can just tell. I just can.
Cassandra: Most likely to STILL WEAR DIAPERS.
Seriously wtf this girl is TWENTY ONE YEARS OLD
.  Why are you doing this to yourself, Cass???????????? Having someone love you back IS NOT THE END-ALL BE-ALL OF THE WORLD. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE.
Andi: Most likely to be as bad ass as her hair.
This bad bitch is a prosecutor in Atlanta, climbed the leaning tower of Pisa, and wants to travel the world.
ROOTIN' 4 YA, ANDI! 
Amy L.: Most likely to dress like an idiot
Seriously, you get picked to be on The Bachelor, and it occurs to you to wear a stretchy-cotton rosette shirt????? I personally can't wait to see what you pick for your opening night evening gown. 
Alli: Most likely to be the next Bachelorette
I'm rooting for this one. She was one of the only girls on tonight's episode that acted like a normal person when Chris told her she was chosen to be on the show. She didn't act like her life destiny was at its peak or that there were Disneyland fireworks in the sky. She was like oh that's dope. Also, SHE MOVED TO AUSTRALIA AFTER COLLEGE BY HERSELF AND LIVED THERE FOR TWO YEARS SO THERE.
She seems like the type of girl who is so bad ass, all other guys take her for granted and she's single forever because she doesn't settle. WE'LL SEE.
Alexis: Most likely to leave an orange mark on your white couch.
Seriously girl, lay off the Jergens and step away from the tanning beds.

12.28.2013

To Tutu or Not to Tutu (that is the NYE question)

Follow my blog with Bloglovin New Years eve is just around the corner Christmas tree. Do you have plans? Do you know who you're kissing?? Have you picked resolutions??? Even if you can't answer any of those questions, there is probably nothing more important than knowing WHAT YOU WILL BE WEARING WHEN YOU RING IN THE NEW YEAR. Time to get it together and figure it out, sister.

Every style / half-way-fashion-related website is coming out with articles right now something to the effect of "The alternative to sequins for NYE" or "The NYE outfit no one else will have on" etc. Everyone wants a say in the all praised "Alternative NYE" outfit. And I am no exception.

Here are my picks for the traditional holiday-wear fabric and a New Years Eve outfit alternative.


SEQUINS VS. TUTU

If you choose to wear sequins....

...wear a sequin maxi skirt!!!!!!!! Anyone who half way knows me, knows I'm a die-hard sucker for maxi skirts. High waist maxi skirts hold a special place in my heart of hearts. So naturally my exception for sequins on New Years Eve lies within the realm of maxi's.

If you choose a New Years Eve alternative...

...wear a TUTU SKIRT!!!! My mom bought a tutu skirt from Anthropology last year, so I'm obligated to borrow and wear it. I've seen so many fAsHiOniStAs and bloggers pull this off effortlessly. Oh, how we all die to be one of them.

Not to be dramatic, but it's a life or death decision. Sequins or tutu. Lives are at stake. Only one can win.

12.26.2013

Merry Christmas, lovers.




I got a Canon Rebel for Christmas and I haven't put it down. Here are some of my FaAvVeEeZz.
Granddaddy / Denver / Football Hall of Fame
Pecos River / Backyard / Sundrops
River plants / Backyard / Pecos River
Chille / New Mexico / Frontyard 
Dining Room / Chandelier 
The Beach at the Pecos
The Beach at the Pecos
Winter weeds
The Pecos River
snap.

12.22.2013

I've Lost My Marbles

Lost my marbles


Cold. Hard. Unmoving. Unflinching. Dramatic. Lifeless. Timeless. 
When you describe marble out loud, it could also reflect what it's ideally supposed to make you feel when you wear it. At least, in my mind. And I'm pretty hella indecisive and wishy-washy at best, so I could really use some steadfast marble in my life.

I'm welcoming this pattern trend with open arms (and open wallet/s). Quite simply losing my marbles for marble.

I obviously had to include this.

12.19.2013

How To Become a Texas Resident. No, but really.


Becoming a Texas resident is simple. Just follow these tried-and-true steps from someone with firsthand experience.

Step one: Vehicle registration and inspection.
Gather your relevant paperwork and Google maps your way to the nearest sketchy auto shop that will rip you off by doing something Texans call "inspecting your vehicle." Your car will ALMOST be able to pass this test. But as it turns out, you won't. You definitely won't. Why? You're a gangster. You ride dirty on the streets in your less than 25% window light transmission tint.

Non-Texas residents rolling around Dallas without having their windows inspected.
Step two: Pay four thousand million dollars de-tint and re-tint your windows.
You will have to take off work for this. Then spend a Saturday afternoon there. Because de-tinting means re-tinting and it takes too long to do it all in one trip. Also, this will be a hundred thousand dollars out of your weekly Mint spending allowance. Not that you follow it anyway.

Step three: Go back to get inspected and not have Texas insurance
OH YEAH LOL you didn't know you were supposed to have Texas auto-insurance??? Lolz like duhh who DOESN'T know that???? WHO doesn't KNOW that???????? Now you can call God knows who to get your New Mexico insured vehicle transferred to some Texas policy. This is exciting because it gives your parents another opportunity to ween your financial needs off of their payroll. ENJOY ADULTHOOD!! AUTO INSURANCE IS $65-100 PER MONTH!!!

Step four: Get auto insurance in Texas and print out a crap ton of papers to prove it to everyone throughout the following steps

Step five: go BACK to the FREAKING auto place 
The staff of this establishment OFFICIALLY HATES YOU. But at least your inspection is complete and you finally have all the necessary paperwork needed to follow the next steps.

Step six: Lose the necessary paperwork needed to follow the next steps.
The kind woman on 500 Elm street breaks the news to you. You're missing the "out of state" inspection paper. Okay. Ok. O. K. ok. k.

Step seven: Go. Back. To. The. Inspection. Shop.
They claim they gave it to you. YET WHY DON'T YOU HAVE IT. That's okay because the auto shop inspection car place and vehicle registration office are both downtown. After retrieving the correct paper from the auto shop, you go back to the registration office.

Step eight: Check your glove box and find the paper you needed all along.
It's fine.

Step nine: WTF is a lienholder???????
I graduated a four year college and managed to scrape by without being properly taught the definition (or existence) of the word "LIENHOLDER."

You will be asked this by the kind woman at the registration office.
You're so close to getting your vehicle registered, you. can. almost. taste. it.


You call your mom. You call your dad. No answer. No answer. The lady is looking at you with sympathy. Oh, poor spoiled newly grad white girl. Lienholder, lienholder, if you know if you're a lienholder, good for you, if you know if I'm one, THAT MAKES ONE OF US.

Step ten: The registration lady decides it's not that big of a deal and tells you to get in line.
Pay another unexpectedly high amount for two Texas metal plates.

Step eleven: BASK IN THE GRATIFYING FEELING OF FINALLY OWNING THE COVETED TEXAS LICENSE PLATES.
Walk out of the office feeling elation. Tweet that you're almost done with the New Mexican turns Texan process.

You're not a New Mexican, not yet a Texan.
Step twelve: Put them in your car and never actually get to putting them ON your car

Step thirteen: Ask off work to go to the DMV
Now here comes the exciting stuff!!! Getting the ID!! It's finally happening IT'S HAPPENING!!!


Step fourteen: Enter the wrong location in Google maps
How did that happen? No really. How. Did. That. Happen.

Step fifteen: Parallel park and use all your quarters to pay for an hour and a half of parking
Quarters lost a little of their luster after leaving the dorms freshmen year and not having to pay for laundry BUT STILL. $1.50 DOWN THE DRAIN.

Step sixteen: Realize it's the wrong address.
HAHA YAY.

Step seventeen: Put the right address into your Google maps.

Step eighteen: Sign in online to the DMV
I'm so on the ball! You tell yourself. Score!

Step nineteen: Get UNCANNILY lost driving to the right location.

Step twenty: Lose your spot in line at the DMV.

Step twenty-one: Find yourself in an exit only lane to Houston.
GAWD HELP US ALL.

Step twenty-two: Curse to Siri out loud alone in the car and finally arrive to said destination 48 minutes later
Whatever. You made it. You're alive. You're free. World peace.

Step twenty-three: Go through the ID process three times
Congratulations! A colonial woman has time-machined her way into 2013 and landed in your local Department of Motor Vehicle office. She will be assisting you with your final steps to becoming a Texas resident today. She has never used electricity, but she will DEFINITELY be entering your data into the computer program today.

Okay, I'm a patient person. I am. Or at least I hate confrontation, don't have a backbone, can't stand up for myself, especially to strangers, and often times that's just as good as patience. My personality is so laid back and care free, I practically invite people like this to screw up, just because they know I won't say anything.

But what KILLS ME is the picture that is my future ID. Now, I'm a girl, so I'm obligated to be a little vain when it comes to the face that will have to be inside my wallet every day for the rest of my young life.

The first time my picture was taken, it was as if the Texas resident angels looked down upon me and shed their goodness and light.

What my first photo for my Texas ID looked like.
I did the awkward machine signature, did the thumbprint thing, ya da ya da. The woman prints out the ID with my first name as my last name. It's fine. Process round two.

The second time I took my photo, it wasn't as great, but whatever.

My second picture taken for my Texas ID. Not my best, kind of quirky, but whatever.
Whatever. whatever. Signed the machine, thumbprints, colonial woman enters the data, lalala okay. okay.

NAMES. STILL. WRONG. Three-four seemingly colonial women are now crowded around the computer technologies in efforts to order the names right.

MUST. TAKE. PICTURE. AGAIN.


The third picture taken for my Texas ID. This is only a fraction of an exaggeration.
After the lady shows you your picture, you shudder, but you don't have the heart to make her take your picture AGAIN. You deal with it internally.

Step twenty-four: Become a Texas Resident

You're finally a TX resident. Bask.

12.14.2013

Karl Does Dallas Y'all

He was here. THE Karl Lagerfeld was here in Dallas. And HE was with HER. Anna Wintour and Karl. All under one red-neck (well, not really, but compared to NY or LA, definitely) roof. The Chanel Pre-Fall 2014 Metiers d'Art collection pranced through Fair Park on December 10th.

If you're like me, you might find the fast-paced fashion industry to be a little stressful. Here we have designers galavanting their fall 2014 collections, and I'm still struggling to make my spring 2013 clothes shift into my fall 2013 wardrobe. Keeping up with the industry when you're not in the industry is a REAL TASK.

If I could, I'd dedicate more hours to flipping through slideshows on style.com, rapgenius the crap out of Eminem's new album, and of course volunteer to feed the country and world peace. Since none of us  have the time to spend hours obsessing over runways of clothes we'll never afford (although Pinterest disagrees with me thoroughly), let this blog post be of service.

And honestly, if you've been out of the fashion loop, all you really need to know is MIDI SKIRTS AND BOOTS. MIDI SKIRTS AND FREAKING BOOTS, Y'ALL. WEAR THEM.

This cozy combination dominated the Chanel show. When I first saw pictures of this collection, I imagined what it would have been like if real American frontier women in the old and wild west had worn these clothes. Could you imagine how chic the 1700s would have been if Karl was busy at work on his sewing machine in that time? When you imagine these clothes in your history books, it takes new meaning. And using your imagination is far more fun than just watching a planned, timed, and scripted fashion show.

To make things spicy, my style editors have teamed up (me alone and hungover on a Saturday) and compiled their favorite looks from the #ChanelDallas show, complete with culturally-sound sartorial commentary (me saying "totes").

I get it. Coarse tweed is everything that is the epitome of Chanel. But this outfit makes even this thin model look heavy. This look is best viewed from afar and not put on your body. 

This ensemble is like a platter of pomegranate seeds, wine, plums, craisins and almonds.

I can't wrap my head around long denim skirts I'll never get them. It's the kitten heel of clothes for me. I can't.


Most likely to be worn by every celebrity white girl on the red carpet.

Makes me wanna rain dance and speak indian sounds. 



I'm literally going to go rapgenius "Rap God" now.

12.12.2013

What It's Like To Be a Girl and Shop For the Office Christmas Party Dress


It's 5:01 P.M.
Your coworker/roommate comes up to you.
Talks you into going to a boutique.
You had plans to work out and cook a healthy dinner.
And read a book series that was cool five years ago.
#HungerGames.
But you're easily persuaded into spending money you don't have on clothes you don't need.
You drive to the boutique, solely to be support and not buy anything.
You try on 18 dresses.
Everything makes you look like a hampster in a prom dress.
You try on the boring white sequin dress.
This dress says I'm twenty something and I'm going to a Christmas party. 
You try on the hot pink dress.
This dress just says I'm twenty something. 
You sigh.
You just need a dress that says I'm young, sophisticated, sort of, but mature, but still enjoy spongebob, but can keep that on the DL, unless someone else admits it, which is usually a guy, and by the way I'm single, but not like desperately single, just casually single, but not needy, unless I like you, these sequins are not trying hard right?
But they are. The sequins definitely are trying hard.
Sequins scream, it's the holidays! I'm a white girl! 
And then the sales associate breaks the news: "Everything in the store is 20% off in 30 minutes."
"DONE AND DONE," you exclaim to your roommate. And the whole boutique.
Or do I want this dress?
Now comes the self doubt and indecisiveness.
If everything is 20% off, now you need to see everything.
You try on seventy nine more dresses.
There is a line of annoyed twenty somethings and moms that think they're twenty something wearing smaller sizes than you behind you.
Waiting on you to finish trying clothes on.
The store is playing really stressful, fast Christmas music.
Do I like the clothes or am I just trying to get away from "Santa Clause Is Coming to Town--the remix"
The sales associate says she LOVES you in that dress.
Of course you do.
Then your roommate brings you the "Tuxedo dress."
You think YES.
You try it on.
It's everything you could never want in an office Christmas party dress.
Politely, you ask the associate, "Hi how the hell do I wear this."
"Oh, the owner of the store has it on, she's right over there."
The owner of the store is a Victoria's Secret model.
The music gets louder.
SANTA CLAUSE IS COMING TO TOWN AND YOU WILL NEVER LOOK LIKE THAT IN A TUXEDO DRESS.
You don't want to buy the sequin dress but you don't want to wear what you own.
[insert scene of Maude Apatow in the closet screaming expletives at her clothes, which has apparently been deleted off of the internet because I can't find it]
You try on the burgundy maxi dress that you die for.
You're not Rachel Zoe.
It won't make sense at the office party.
Sequin holiday dress it is.
You still want the tux dress.
Maybe it can be your plus one.
You buy two jackets.
Everyhing is like a thousand percent off.
You still spend over a hundred dollars.
It's okay you tell yourself.
It's like a Christmas present to myself from myself you tell yourself.
You get a free gluten free cookie from the sales associate before going to the register.
Except it's not free.
You've been to this boutique at least twice just this month alone.
You more than paid for that freaking gluten free cookie.
You exit the store.
A guy is walking in as you're walking out.
Your car is right in front of the store door.
He comments on how bad you parked.
Awkward laughter.
You drive home.
It's now 7 P.M.
Enjoy your sequin dress.
And everyone else's.