Beatchin’

So it begins. Spring Break.

I already feel bad about being too lazy to starve and tan myself all winter to prepare for one week where I might wear a swimsuit a couple times. Doesn’t the term “beach body ready” start applying in June? I barely had finished eating my chocolate biscuit on Christmas morning before I saw commercials for “Getting ready for Spring!” with a bunch of sweaty, unrealistically happy women throwing rubber balls at each other.

The truth is, I hate working out. I do it because sometimes, I’ll put on my underwear and say, “Meh,” which inspires me to half-ass an elliptical workout for under 30 minutes. With this in mind every year, I begin a painful search for a bathing suit which fills me with a deep sense of self-loathing.

Thankfully, retro-style suits are pretty popular and pretty flattering on big-good-thinged women. I remembered seeing a two-piece on Victoria’s Secret, so I visited the website and was greeted by this…

Seriously?

To me this says, “Shop 300 bikinis that won’t look as good on you.” I decided to go with “high coverage,” which is about as belittling as looking through the “Youth Fiction” section in the bookstore.

I guess for Victoria’s Secret, this is still considered “high coverage”

and everything else was boring, ugly, or black.

And then I went to Modcloth KNOWING that they would have some cute ones… and I found THIS.

because who doesn’t want to look like a floating piece of driftwood at the beach? What in God’s name is this? Who is running Modcloth?

Voice Box

The more I am exposed to music, the more I feel that my “favorites” are somehow floating collectively together, then I realized the other day, as I was transferring music onto my (hopefully final) replacement iPod, that there are so many songs that have become like worn shoes, tossed somewhere in the back of my mind, regardless of how many times I had listened to them.

I need to do some uncluttering.

I know this is supposed to be a fashion blog, but it’s also my blog, and I do what I want. In no particular order, here are the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard:

Lady Dada

I’d never been to the Getty before, or even heard of it (which is slightly embarrassing in itself) but I have to say that my lack of knowledge concerning turn of the century art is pretty embarrassing too. The geometric shapes, splashes of color, and strange mediums of modernists have always been more interesting to me, especially regarding the influence that art has had on fashion.

I mean, honestly, without the weird goth rebels of the surrealist movement, we wouldn’t have this:

Da Oskerz

Being in LA, I feel compelled to put in my 2 cents about last nights oscar attire, since that was pretty much the only thing I cared about (though I did groan along with everyone else in the room when Sandra Bullock won for best-actress-in-a-movie-about-a-cliched-heart-tugging-story-about-overcoming-racism category. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… (cut to: close up of Denzel Washington).

Back to the thing that I love most about the Oscars (also probably the only part that is actually culturally diverse) and that’s the designer gowns. Not too shabby this year, but nothing exciting, though that’s not really a surprise. Everyone’s got on something Italian, French, or some other something with a bunch of ruffles, one color, and strapless. Yawn.

That girl who was in the movie about drumlines

I have to say that I was so bored with the monochrome fashion pallet that when I finally saw that-girl-who-was-in-the-movie-about-drumline’s dress, I was at least INTERESTED.

So far, a lot of people have put her on the worst dressed list for this, but I think if either the jeweled bodice was gone, or the asymmetrical cummerbund stupid… thing,  this would be a pretty sick dress. Or at least it felt like seeing someone throw up at a boring  black, white, and flesh-colored wedding.

I also hate doing best/worst lists but I’m going to do one right now. Ready? Ready.

BEST

The Skinny

My friend and I were discussing dissatisfaction with our bodies while downing grande lattes and muffins in a cafe last week. My friend, I think, represents the typical public’s reaction to this:

which is “She’s too thin!” and “This is why girls have eating disorders.”

Before I say what I’m about to say, I have to admit that I agree with those two statements. It is highly unfortunate that most women (even me, right now) see the woman above and think that this represents the essence of beauty, and that we, by comparison, are less beautiful and ultimately, of less worth.

It is even less fortunate that this woman probably sees other models and thinks (in Russian) “Niet God, I have thighs such big.” Obviously there’s a possibility that she could be “naturally thin”  with a “impossibly high metabolism” that has plagued my thin and gorgeous friends most of their lives. But lets be honest, I doubt all of these women have these same god-like genetics.

That being said, this body type as the ultimate for the fashion industry can’t and won’t ever change, and I don’t think it should. I am in no way condoning self-harming behaviors or the influence this body type has on the average woman, but I can say that this body type is perfect for what it is does, and that’s wearing clothes.

French Kiss in 1966

I usually regret giving my email out to businesses when shopping because I know in about 2-3 days my in/mail box will be full of coupons that I will never use and I will begin to nurse a growing bitterness towards said store. However, I was pleasantly surprised by this month’s Anthropologie catalog, starring an adorable model with a cute French haircut.

I instantly decided the thing I have been lacking in my own wardrobe is bangs, flowers, and a French accent, and why the hell don’t I own a bicycle with a bushel of flowers in the basket?

Walking my new bike home in the snow, I started to think about how much French culture has influenced our style.