How can you make old things new again? Apparently, these days, you just add a bunch of fringe to it and it automatically becomes styley and amazing. Just like the land we live on and illegal gaming, we have appropriated yet another Native American ritual: putting fringe on everything--and I have to say; I personally love it.
Boots, sandals, purses and dresses, it seems that I can't go anywhere without getting hit in the face with fringe. This is because fringe is festive. With the economy going under, we all need a festive pick-me-up and fringe makes you shake. It's the nature of the beast. So make everyday a party and shake your way into the New Year with the above Tracy Zych fringe bag.
You will inevitably inspire good vibes with everyone you will inadvertantly hit with all that fringe. Plus, anything fringe is going to match with your slutty Pocahontas Halloween costume. There, now you won't feel bad that you bought something that will look absolutely ridiculous in two months. It's fringe for god sakes!
I have once again renewed my plans to single-handledly bring down J. Crew. Why? Because they are ridiculous. Ridiculous and also at the same time geniuses. Cruel, evil, geniuses.
They have decided to prey on the most vulnerable class of women--the insecure, slightly chubby, cardigan wearing, Tory Burch loving, I-will-pay-for-any-and-all-things-paisley-and-pastel women. And now they are convincing these same women that this dress with plastic beads is worth $3,500.00. It's $3,500.00 and it doesn't even have Gucci, Chanel, or any other repectable logo painted all over it. That's because it's from J.Crew.
From the sunny hills of Hollywood to Orange County to the beautiful San Francisco Bay, I'm back to give you all things awesome to awfully roach. And it could not have come at a better time, because tis the season to freeze your butt off in a hoochie dress while standing in line for a hip holiday party.
Unlike guys in their long tacky leather jackets over their striped black button-ups, girls are never, ever, ever aloud to wear a jacket or any type of outerwear that can 1) warm them up or 2) cover up their hoochie dress. It's the rules--lest she be destroyed. What's even more irritating isn't the actual cold, but those same stupid guys in their leather jackets that ask you if you're cold. YES YOU IDIOT, OF COURSE I'M COLD--GIVE ME THAT HIDEOUS JACKET!
I love Polos. I love them in every color and every brand. They're comfortable, they're cute and most importantly, you can pop their collars at any moment. But there is nobody on this planet Earth that loves polos more than Dads. More specifically, balding dads with their red baseball caps, chinos, and navy polos. And these very same dads love nothing more than to be wearing their navy polos COMPLETELY tucked into their chinos. I simply do not understand. Like moms who suddenly have an affinity for cropped pants and pastel, when a guy passes the age of 35 and becomes Dad, his polos end up tucked into stonewashed tapered jeans with a black belt around his nipples. I mean the the red cap covering the receding hairline--fine. The chinos because you can't wear boot-cut, stylishly damaged Diesel jeans--I'll accept that too. But what is the benefit of tucking in your polos and buttoning them up to your neck? The answer to that is nothing. Nothing, except that it's roach. So there, if there ever was a reason to dump your hubby for a younger guy there it is. Ruining polos for everyone. Well that and man-dals (roach male sandals with all the slits and Nike swooshes everywhere--ick). And if they're worn together, get yourself an Ashton Kutcher pronto! Cause even a lifetime of trucker hats is better than cargo shorts and man-dals.