Ask and you shall recieve.

Holidays are the time for getting awesome stuff.

Wig Bag.

What?

Yeah

So you may remember the post about wig pride, if you don't you may read it.  Well a few days/weeks after I wrote about how we should all have wig pride, a bag of wigs appeared on my street.   So my friend Jesslyn Sheilds has blogged briefly about this bag of wigs and how I believe it came from a hooker. You may read this blog here -> http://cloudlesssulphur.blogspot.com/2010/12/narcissistic-narwhal.html.   This is one theory.  Those of you who know Athens, I live in a neighborhood where there is a plethora of hookers around, so it is not unlikely that a hooker may have been the owner of this bag of wigs.  But why did these wigs end up on the street?  My theories are as follows.
1. There an incident where the hooker had to make a quick get away and in order to gain more speed dropped the weight of the wig bag.
2. Someone got angry at their girlfriend or boyfriend and threw their partners wig bag out the car.
3. I blogged about wigs and wig pride and the wig goddess bestowed upon me a bag of wigs and missed my doorstep because the military scrambles GPS signals just a little bit.
4. The wig owner underwent hair replacement therapy and in an act of newly found freedom from the wig, chucked that old tired bag of wigs onto the street.

Feel free to vote on your favorite theory.

Bring Your Green Hat

Of recent, I decided to join a few friends and participate in the Atlanta Santa Speedo Race.  This event is a fundraiser for Camp Twin Lakes, and people donate money to run mostly nude through the streets of Atlanta at a “sanctioned” event.  I will not post pictures of this but you can google it and find a myriad of photos and videos.  What I want to convey to you about this event is how it felt a lot like streaking through the streets of Atlanta.  So did I bring my green hat you may ask?  Well no, but I donned my underwear/bathing suit, Santa hat, red and white knee high socks with the rest of the brave exhibitionists and ran 1.7 miles through the heart of Virginia Highland.  The streets were lined with people who had come to watch these brave souls.  But one thing I did not expect was that each of these spectators had their phones pointed at us, were they trying to get my number because I looked so attractive running in the street in my underwear?  No, well not all of them.  They were documenting this event by either photo or video on their phone or camera. 

Lessoned I learned this weekend:  In the 21^st century your decisions will be documented . . . and shared.

As a side note . . .I do not regret the things I have done.  

Have you read my blog?

Raising awareness about the mom jean.

You asked and therefore you shall receive. 

A while back now.  In fact ashamingly long ago, I hosted a mom jeans party.  You may ask yourself, what is a mom jeans party. Or what are mom jeans.  I would be disappointed in you, but I will answer anyways.  Mom jeans are jeans that are NOT flattering to the female form.  They can take several forms.  As demonstrated below.

You may ask, what prompted you to have this awesome and incredibly creative mom jeans party.  Well, there were several inspirations for this mom jeans party. 

1.     I own a pair of mom jeans , for just such an occasion.

As a side not I got stung by a bee earlier that day, you can see it on my chest.  

2.     I believe everyone should own a pair of mom jeans and by holding a party that requires people to buy mom jeans, I can help this belief come to fruition. 

3.     Have you seen this video.  http://www.hulu.com/watch/10333/saturday-night-live-mom-jeans
It is good and you will now watch it.

4.     I love having theme parties and wearing costumes and this was an excuse to do both. 

What makes a good mom jean?

1.     A least a 9 inch zipper.  Please refer to the video or provided photo for the scale of what this means.

9 inch zipper, mmm hmm

2.     Preferably a tapered leg, with boochy (boo-chee)  hips.  Yeah I made up boochy, but it describes what is happening perfectly so don’t argue with me, and intergrate it in your normal vocabulary.  If you could refer to the pictures below and view what I mean by boochy. 


Footnote:  I just looked up Boochy on urban dictionary, and apparently it means frequent user of cocaine. Just wanted to warn you, but we all know what it really means.   

3.     An acid wash.

4.     Very tiiiiiight or very loose fitting (boochy).  Nothing in between. 

Tight on the left, boochy on the right.  

5.     Lumbar support.  Mom’s carry babies, groceries, and other mom things.  They can have back pain.  If the pockets come up onto the back it can provide quite a bit of support I found out.

Look how much support their backs are receiving!

On a last note, I think mom jeans are making a come back.  But I think people are wearing them ironically, please google hipster if you need more information about people wearing things ironically.  Hipsters wear things such as fanny packs, mom jean shorts, glasses without lenses (oh wait).  Anyways, that is a whole other subject that I don't feel like talking about.

What I want you to be aware of when choosing to wear mom jeans ironically if whether or you can pull them off.  I will now provide you with two examples.  You tell me who pulled it off and who didn't.

I was wearing that wig.

So the bloggers are together, so we will post a blog together.   

A story of the law and wig empowerment. 

A drinking club, The Chapter, has been meeting at the Ramada (currently The Grand Soleil) on the bluffs of Natchez overlooking the Mississippi River for 32 years.  For 32 years(!), this group comprised mostly of educators, has gathered at 5pm Fridays for cocktails and occasionally dinner.  They share stories, good, bad, and humiliating.  They laugh. They ruse.  Good times are had by all. 

 I have heard many incredible, sometimes unbelievable stories throughout my years with the group. Today, one in particular stands. We are discussing Wig Shame at icanseerightupthemshorts.blogspot.com this week, and what a shame it is.  For whatever the reason (i.e. sickness, baldness, costume), wig wearing should not be shameful.  No, it should be liberating.  So, this week I bring you a wig story from HWY 61 in MS, a story about a wig and justice.

Let me set the scene.  Picture it, HWY 61, Natchez, MS, nighttime.  You there? Susie was.  She was sitting at a red light at the bottom of a very long, steep hill in her Oldsmobile.  Lights came up over the top of this hill in her rearview, and Susie looked up to see a car flying over the crest of the hill.  Her eyes flashed back at the red light, still red(!), then back to the speeding car.  It was barreling down the hill, moving faster, she believed, now moving into her lane.  Susie looked back at the red light and then quickly back to the car.  Susie realized this car was not going to stop.  No. It was going to drive right through her.  With no time to jump or steer clear she let off the brake and braced for impact. BAM. SLAM. NOM. NOM. NOM.

911 was called and the police, a fire truck, and an ambulance arrived.  All involved survived with only minor injuries, scrapes and bruises. Susie sat in her rear-ended Oldsmobile.  She received assistance from the Paramedics and awaited the police officer so she could recount the incident.  He came over and went through a list of preliminary questions (i.e. name, age, address, insurance). Susie provided all the necessary information.  Then he asked her, “What happened?” 

Susie described the car flying over the hill, moving into her lane, and slamming into her Oldsmobile.  The officer said that the driver of the other vehicle claimed that he wasn’t speeding.  Susie said, “Are you kidding?! Look at the rear end of my car!”  The officer smiled and then asked Susie if she had any other proof.  Proof?! Shocked and bewildered, Susie grabbed the wheel and wondered if she was seriously going to have to accept the blame for being rear-ended.  What more proof did he need?! She wiped her face with her hand and realized something missing.  She turned to look in the back and spotted it in the rear window.  Susie  tuned back to the officer and said, “Not speeding, huh?  I can prove it! See that luscious wig?” pointing to the rear windshield. I was wearing it!!” It was a beautiful day for wig wearers everywhere! 

So next time you are second guessing wearing that pink, green, blonde, brunette wig.  Don’t you dare!  We say don that wig and walk the streets with no wig shame, but wig pride!   You never know when your wig can be used as evidence or disguise.  

Country Rock

Ok loyal 5 followers.  I am officially the worst blogger on the face of the planet.  I started a blog because I was inspired by seeing a women adorning a sleeveless turtleneck sweater.  And well I have been inspired again.  This weekend I went to country rock twice!

You:  What is country rock?

Me:  It is a dance club that plays both country music for line dancing purposes and hiphop/rap(whatever the kids are calling it these days for grinding purposes.   Imagine going to Panama City Beach and scooping up all the spring breakers and dropping them into country rock for an evening of dancing.  That is what it is like.

You: Oh.... I want to go...once...why did you go twice?

Me:  Well, let me tell you.


So Friday night we were drawn to country rock like a moth is drawn to a flame.  Unfortunately when we arrived, we were horrifically surprised to find out that a live band was playing.  This band was limited in their ability to play anything but terrible country, so needless to say the place was empty and we left disappointed.  Luckily there was some good fashion for viewing before we vanished.  Like a white oxford shirt with a vest attached to it only it the front because really the back part of a vest just gets in the damn way. If you need a visual google people of walmart and browse.  www.peopleofwalmart.com

Ok so that was night one, night two occurs for two reasons.

1.  Our friend Kimmy was also there for a second night, drawn there like a moth is drawn to a flame no doubt.
2.  I left my credit card there.

So after a sophisticated evening at the symphony we go to country rock.  This night there is no live band.  And it is like walking into the scene from dirty dancing where they are all dancing real dirtylike, but fast forward 30 years and adorn the dancers with cowboy hats and the latest Walmart fashions.
There was a lot of crunching (the term for grinding used by my turkish friend Uzay)  going on.  Everyone was crunching everywhere.  Crunching front to front, back to back, front to back, butt to face.  You get the point.

Crunchers

Then we started looking closer at these crunchers and the majority of them looked like zombies.  You know white faces and black eyes.

Then one girl offered so graciously to dance with us.  When we declined she asked us "are we to wiiiiiiaaaald (wild) for y'all?"  She breathed her meth breath onto us.  Moments later her head smacked the concrete.  She was too wild for us.  So zombies or meth heads, the country rock clientele provides hours of entertainment.  I highly recommend a visit.

Anyways long story short.  I wanted to share my dual country rock experience.  As I think it is a good intro for the guest posting from my partner in blog, Jamey Hudnall.  He actually contributed this a while ago and I was too lazy to put it up.   So here it is!

Guest Blog! The Summer Button-down

The Summer Button-down is a standard in rural fashion.  

It's incredible versatility allows it to pass as dressy or casual depending on the affair.  Button it up for a night out with your lady; keep it half-buttoned for a night out with your lady;  keep it completely unbuttoned for a night out with your lady.  Wife-beaters often pair it with a ball cap, a limited vocabulary, and a tank top (though it can be worn over sunburned skin alone.)  Popular Summer Button-down fabrics include aged flannel and king cotton.  It's great for warm climates as it is barely passes as clothing. 

As a fashion statement, it seems to proudly say, "I'm a bigot that can fashion a burning cross faster than MacGyver."  Wear your Summer Button-down with pride!

Summer Button-down caught in action

Sleeveless Turtlenecks and Dickeys what is the difference?

Lots.   Now don’t get me wrong, the sleeveless turtleneck had its hayday in my closet in the 90s along with velour button down shirts and bell-bottom jeans.  But…… I don’t own or wear them anymore.  I actually am really ashamed that I ever donned the sleeveless turtleneck (SLTN) mostly for its unbelievable impracticality.  There is a website called things that white people like.  On this list is wearing scarves in the summer.  I agree that this could be impractical, but lets discuss the difference between a scarf and a sleeveless turtleneck.  You can remove the scarf when you get too warm, but when you get too warm wearing your sleeveless turtleneck you CAN’T remove it. 

Ok on to the dickey.  If you are not familiar with the dickey, watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.   The dickey is prominently featured.  Let me just preface this I do not own a dickey and I probably will never own a dickey, but the dickey holds a special place in my heart.   Similar to the scarf, unlike the SLTN the dickey can be removed.   

Moral of the story….

If you own a sleeveless turtleneck

1.           Do not wear it
2.           Donate it
3.           Use it to wash your car
4.           DO NOT bring it to a clothing swap to tempt someone else into taking it

If you do not own a sleeveless turtleneck.

1.            Congratulations
2.           DO NOT under any circumstances buy a sleeveless turtleneck or circum to the temptation of trying one on at a store or at a clothing swap

     If you own a dickey

1.               Host an ugly Christmas sweater party (also things that white people like)
2.                Never get rid of it
3.           Consider wearing just the dickey to casual Friday at work. 

If you don’t own a dickey

1.       Get one