Sarah Palin Spent $150,000 On Her New Wardrobe And All I Gots Was This Stinkin T-Shirt!?

Dear Sarah Palin, *

I'm a girl, so obvs I love to get my shop on. But like, I've srsly got nothing on you.

You're a true inspiration.

I had no fucking clue that hockey moms were such fashionistas, but when your seven year old daughter is sportin a Louie Vu, I guess its safe to assume you know the difference between Spanx and Donna Karran body shapers. Color me red, white-n-blue with shock, awe and surprise.

$150,000 on clothes in one month is truly impressive!

Here's the thing, though: I don't even really give a shit that you spent all that money. In fact, I think most of the peeps that sent the RNC donations were total dickwads anyway, so it doesn't bother me one little panty lick to think of all their hard earned money getting pissed away at Saks and Neiman Marcus on a shiny, new wardrobe pour vous.

I think its pretty awesome.

What DOES bother me, however, (and bothers me a whole fuckin lot) is that you spent $150,000 benjis...on, presumably, designer clothes, and you still ended up looking like this:


Suze Orman has better jackets than that shit.

Obvies, whomever was heading up your Extreme Makeover efforts fucked this whole thing up big time, and it had nothing to do with the fact that $150k was spent.

I've decided to, yet again, solve the world's problems and take matters into my own hands.

Following, I present you with one week's worth of wardrobe suggestions. Basically, this is what you SHOULD have done with all of your money in order to look like the ultimate fighting champ, VP wannabe (all clothes are from Neiman Marcus and/or Saks):

MONDAY
Tahari Houndstooth skirtsuit ($598)
This look is totally chic, yet also commanding. Like, yeah, I'm a woman! So what! Fuck you! Just because I get my period, it doesn't mean I'm gonna show up on the Senate floor acting all wishy washy, boo hoo, sweetie, baby, cookie, honey. That's right: I rock the decolletage just like I rock those Al Qaeda fuckers!

TUESDAY
Dior Belted Virgin Wool Jacket ($1999)

This one is all about the glam factor. As much as I hate your ass, I think this Dior number would be particularly gorge on you. You'd look so hot in this, desperate Republicans would start bringing up Jackie O comparisons, and then Keith Olbermann could put you on his Worst Person List for daring to smear the name of a Kennedy by trying to channel her style, and Rachel Maddow would sneer and look all disappointed that someone like you was ever born, but you wouldn't care b/c you'd still be killin it in this.

WEDNESDAY
Theory Tailor Suit ($535)

Here's your DO NOT FUCK WITH ME UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES look. Throw this puppy on, look into the mirror and repeat after me "I am fierce. I am fabulous. I will NOT be fucking stuck in Alaska for the rest of my life." You could wear this suit, walk right up to Christopher Buckley and be all "you wanna bet on Black, motherfucker! Bet on this!" (Oh Snap!)

THURSDAY
Magaschoni Suit ($872)

We flying the first class

Up in the sky
Poppin' champagne
Livin' the life
In the fast lane
And I wont change
By the Glamorous, oh the flossy flossy

FRIDAY
Anne Klein Puckered Shirtdress (on sale!: $296)

Of course you can bring home the bacon! Of course you can fry it up in a pan! Obvies you can even shoot a motherhumpin moose with a semi-automatic weapon from a helicopter, fuck your husband on a snow mobile, read a book to your special needs baby, AND still have time to take your teenaged daughter Bristol for her pre-natal care appointments. You are today's modern day woman!

TOTAL = $4300

Let's bump that shit up to $5k for good measure, multiply by it four, and that's still only $20k for one month's worth of duds.

Dignity = T-O-T-A-L-L-Y in tact (priceless).

I could have saved the motherfucking Republicans $130,000, yo!

You could have used all that extra money to buy a lot of these:


And then killed a lot of these:


Oh well.

Mo money, mo problems,
me

Tom Cruise-N-Katie Holmes: Ditch The Garanimals, MMM Kay?

Dear Tom & Katie, *

I normally never do fashion focused posts because there are tons of other blogs out there on the interwebs that are way better suited to discuss this sort of thing that I am, but I can no longer sit idly by biting my tongue about you two bitches.

You're both in NYC right now for Katie's show All My Sons. And I'M in NYC, and true I'm probs seeing way more pics of you than I normally would, but now you two got me all curious so I started googling.

OMFG.

Let's break this shit down:

1. Matching Fucking Outfits!? - Ok, look: if you have little baby twins or trips or something and you want to put them in little matching outfits, that's kinda cute. Or if its Halloween and you l00zers want to match it up with coordinating and/or matching outfits, more power to you....but at a cocktail party at the Hermes store!? You have GOT to be fucking kidding me. This makes me want to go take a power vomit. Couples don't wear matching outfits. Espesh if you're a mega rich, superstar celeb couple on a quest to prove to everyone that a. You actually are real couple; b. Your life is not ruled and carefully planned out by a team of manipulative Scientologists plotting to take over the world; or c. You're not gay.

I mean, this shit is Celeb 101 here. I've only got a fucking blog that's about celebrities and I know this!

Some friendly advice: this is sooo not cute; This is sooo not cool; This is so not something you should EVER do again.

Oh wait:
2. Taking Chances - Stepping out of your comfort zone every once in awhile to take a chance on a new look or a new designer is something I applaud. It's during these moments that we often feel we get a true look into the moods, likes, and dislikes of all you crazy celeb kids. Here's the rub: this can either work out swimmingly and result in something like this:

OR, this can result in a FAIL of epic proportions. The sort of FAIL that will become legendary...that people will talk about for years and years and years. i.e. something like this:

Tom, you obvies have no fucking clue what you're doing in the world of fashion, so I'm not even going to bother with you. But, Katie...you were actually on quite the high fashion kick for awhile back there. You were looking glam, and fab...and now its all gone to shit. I guess your fashion prowess was all due to your BFF sitch with Posh, and now that that's over, so are you?

3. Eh, Fuck it -

See that was really all I had to say about you two (I told you there was a reason I don't do fashion posts).

Anyway, pull your shit together. It's getting embarrassing already.
kthxbye,
me.

Fine. I Admit It. David Beckham Gets Me Hard Too

Dear Becks, **

As the NYT reported a couple of weeks ago in their story on that new documentary, Bi The Way, "looking at a naked man walking on the beach is about as exciting as looking at landscapes,” for most women. They went on to say that chicks got hot for images of almost everything else on the planet including naked snaps of other chicks, chicks doing calisthenics, and monkey's doing the nasty. But naked pics of guys? Eh.

You, however, I think might be the one exception to that rule...in like a really big way. Which probably explains why the entire city of San Francisco is in a self-imposed fuck frenzy fantasy over you and your new ad for Armani, in all its ginormous glory, in SF's Union Square.

True confessions: I seriously dig you too, though the reason I'm kinda gaga for you is likely not even on anyone else's radar. It's kind of embarrassing actually, because I don't even know what the Christ the proprer anatomical term for these things are--these things of yours that get me all hot and bothered--but I'm pointing to them up above. And also here:

WTF are those things called!?

They're like the river beds that lead to your man lake. Or like the putting green en route to your 18th hole. The on ramp to your man trak. They're gorgeous, and in my humble opinion, are totally your show pieces.

If I knew what the fuck these things were called, I think I could easily start a grassroots campaign to get them the sort of mad props that tits and ass enjoy for women. Like, I'm ready to start a real movement here. But that's really the crux of the whole fucking problem right there, isn't it? Why the hell am I familiar with the word tittsicles and yet I have no clue what those man parts of yours are called?? I mean, I don't even know what the eff I'm supposed to google here?

Which just brings home the fact that its time for action. We NEED to start educating people, David! Knowledge is power! I'm envisioning baby tees, live strong bracelets, and definitely tote bags. Coffee Mugs and baseball hats we can do second tier. If only someone could tell me what the fuck all this merch was gonna be sayin...what ARE those things called???

Anyone?? Please help.

wrecked by Becks,
me

Perez Hilton + his own fashion line = You Have GOTTT To Be Kidding Me

Dear Perez, **

Uhm....yeah. Your own fashion line, huh?

I'm pretty sure I would rather commit to an all Heidiwood, all the time wardrobe than ever, ever, like EVER have to wear a Mario Lavandeira designed baby tee. It looks like My Little Pony threw up all over those tween jeans and horrible ho-odies.

Also, when you're a fashion designer...and you look totally ridiculous at your own clothing line launch--that's kinda not so good.

That's all.

Think pink (oops, looks like you already R!),
m.

Supermodel, Rockstar--What's Next Agyness Deyn, Actress!?

Dear Agyness, **

So...

I don't have anything against you personally and I'm sure you are a lovely, possibly non-annoying woman. But now you're a chanteuse? I am just totally flummoxed.

I love me some supermodels: Heidi, Giselle, Naomi, Cindy...even Janice for Christ's sake. I love reading about supermodels, looking at supermodels and watching interviews with supermodels. But I seriously just don't get you.

Supermodels have long, wavy hair that you just want to reach out and touch. They make you want to buy lingerie and makeup and they all carry it bags and have fabulous sunglasses. You usually look like you're on your way to traffic school after a long night of boozing.

Look Ags, I'm chubby, and shortish and very often leave my house without lip gloss, so I know that I'm really in no position to judge, B-U-T I just don't see you holding your own at the Supermodel Debutante Ball. You're cute and all, but a supermodel??

I'm not going to listen to your song because, frankly, I don't want any reason to dislike you anymore than I do. Maybe you'll do something a little more interesting sometime soon?

Waiting,
me-ee

Girls Who Wear Glasses Have Seriously Nice Asses, New York Mag

Dear New York Magazine, ***

Not to brag or anything, but I was like 24 years ahead of this glasses trend thing. I was rockin' these puppies in fourth grade. FOURTH grade. Mmm Hmm.

Just sayin'.

Give me a jingle if you're ever looking for a new trend spotter.

Kool Moe D,
me

Your Ad is So Not Posh, Marc Jacobs

Dear Marc,**

Looking at this Victoria Beckham ad leaves me almost as shocked and confused as I was after seeing your photo for the first time post fat, dorky guy makeover.

Here are the cold hard facts Marc-ee Mark:
1. This is a horrible, overexposed photo
2. This horrible photo does not look artistic or avant garde...it looks stupid
3. The intended fairy tale/kiss a frog reference is murky at best and at worst...well, stupid again.

Your ad campaigns lately have looked like they've been art directed by Stevie Wonder. I'm a bit perplexed that after the showstopping creativity of Victoria Beckham stuffed in a bag, and Victoria Beckham popping her head out of bag, this is what you and your crack team have come up with.

Is this all part of your clever plan? Did you intentionally shoot an ad that was so inexplicably lame you knew you would get people talking more than you would had the ad been fabulous and ordinary?

Well, it worked.

fashion for all,
me

Aren't Supermodels Not Supposed To Look Like 12-Year-Old Boys, Perez Hilton?

photo: Chris Peterson via Buzz Foto (via Perez Hilton)

Dear Perez,***

I was a smidge surprised when Vogue Magazine named Agyness Deyn one of the world's next supermodels last May. But, OK whatevs--diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks.

But today you're telling me that based on Aggy's "fresh looks" in the photo above she serves as "a muse to us all!"

Reee-ally?

I think she kind of looks like she (unsuccessfully) raided Duckie's closet from Pretty In Pink on her way to a Depeche Mode concert in 1986. Dude, if this is your muse, then that might explain your tragic run in with pink hair.

I still love you long time,
Me

I Hate You Skinny Jeans

Dear Skinny Jeans Designer,**
I don't know who you are, where you live or what your religious beliefs are, but I do know for absolute sure that you really, really suck.

I think that you probably knew good and well that your stupid skinny jeans would only look good on 1 in every 500 women, and I think that you probably didn't care. I think you probably look horrible in skinny jeans yourself. I think you are ugly...and dumb too.

Well, ok--not dumb. You can't possibly be dumb because you've managed to convince thousands of smart, reasonable, college educated women that they should slither their chubby legs into skin-tight, dark wash, $200 sausage casings and then go out into public. That's actually kinda smart--but also kinda evil.

Well, joke's on you bub! According to the Daily Mail, Skinny jeans are O-V-E-R...at least in London. And if they're over in Europe, then they will soon be over here. And let's just say it better happen fast. I'm dreaming of the day I can burn my own fucking skinny jeans. Yes, I actually bought a pair, you SOB.

Screw Off,
Me