Category Archives: fashion

Bigger is NOT Better

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No, I’m not talking about men’s love muscles; although obviously anything under 3 inches should be donated to science. I’m talking about the widening sizes of female butts. I get that Kim K caused quite a stir with her transformation into some kind of ass monster, but now that I’m seeing this trend in daily life from normal women not married to Kanye, I’m more than a little creeped out.

I see them at the gym, at the mall, sometimes they block the moon, and many seem to have their own gravitational pull because I just can’t pull my eyes away. The obsession is maddening. If you type “how can I get a big” in Google, the first suggestion is “bigger bum?” The methods are sickening. You can either opt for the healthy route and squat yourself into a slow herniated death, which is fine because at least once you do croak, they can bury you face down for the world to marvel at your luscious cheeks. Or you can go the artificial route and stuff your derriere with anything from silicone, fat, or little children’s dreams.

Either way, there’s a fine line between socially passable and downright cracked (couldn’t resist)-out. If you suffer from ass cheeks that are as limp as a comatose patient’s handshake, then it wouldn’t hurt society if you snuck in a squat or two. However if you have a behind that prevents you from falling into toilets, then opting for an operation to enhance it to the size of a prize stallion’s ass is just demented. Sure, beauty is the eye of the beholder but this trend specifically sprang up because of some lame-o makeshift celebrities and its hurting people; specifically me and my eyes.

Butt implants, aside from being terrifying to human eyes (especially ones connected to functioning brains) do carry some health risks. Sure there are risks with any normal surgery but I’m sure very few run the horrendous notion of ending up with an infected asshole. Yes, see they cut near your glory hole so that there are no scars. Of course this leaves one of your most important orifices for relief at risk of malfunctioning, which could land you in a pile of shit.

It takes about 6 weeks to recover from butt augmentation. For 6 weeks, you should avoid sitting, or your cheeks could either harden or shift (how great would that be; having your ass fat right under your boobs?). The recovery sounds so painfully ridiculous that I’m amazed at its popularity. It’s like waking up to a world where suddenly it’s trending to pull out your own teeth while sober because the geriatric look is dope.

When you have to physically change your body with surgery to (not) fit in, then you have crossed the line from weak willed to blatantly psychotic. Congratulations on your new large ass. Here are your pills, your extra-large thongs, and a husband who will cheat on you with the first Rhinoceros he comes across.

 

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Hair We Go Again

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I dread this time.. when the grey starts to sneak out like a guilty teen, when the ends split wider than a porn star’s vagina, and when the frizz gets wilder than an addict at a festival.

What does it mean?

I have to make my way back to the dreaded chair: the HairMesser’s chair.

It’s more common than you think. For every time you see a pretty lady all dolled up with gorgeous locks, know that behind that success there were at least a dozen mishaps with hair dressers when she left the salon looking like raccoons tried to mate with her ideas.

There are just too many awkward facts about going to the hairdresser. Go to a venue once and if you exchange mild pleasantries with one hair dude, you are more bound to him than your husband in matrimony. Heaven forbid you ever dream of trying another guy he works with, whence you are met with the same judgement as trying to convince your husband to let you fuck his best friend.

You have the talkers, whom I just cant keep up with. I mean, when I get to that chair, I just wanna lay back and let the pampering begin. Instead, I’m often faced with a person who wants to talk about politics, the weather, the folly of married life, etc. and this is all fine and dandy, but come my twentieth visit, I have just as much fun faking the enjoyment as I do at 5 am.

The straight ones come with their own drama. You can’t be too friendly otherwise he’ll try to penetrate your ear when you are not paying attention, and contrary to what he might try to convince you of, this will not help with your migraines at all.

Now on to the actual hair. I don’t know what training they give these “artists” but its definitely not on hair. Its sad but most of them will completely forget about what your hair actually needs and try to push the most expensive treatment down your…scalp.

I have very dry hair- chalk it up to years of vacillating between Madonna blonde and Snow White black. Point is that what’s left of the locks are pretty damned fragile and instead of respecting that, every bozo with a hair blower tries to convince me that a 6 hour treatment with BOTOX or chemicals they use to preserve corpses will do wonders for my look. It’s as criminal as visiting your GP and having him recommend a kidney removal because you’ll drop that 0.3 KG that’s bugging you.

Women have to bear with a lot of bad hair before they find the right dresser or routine that will keep most threads on their heads. And while its nice to look at a well put together maiden with each strand in its respectable place, try to afford the poor specimen some sympathy if you spot a gal with way too much frizz and jungle fever going on. After all, she could have just been fending off ear-intercourse.

Heel Thyself

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Stilettos, pumps, platforms and “come penetrate me now” shoes. If you’ve ever had a flair for the feminine, then you’ve got one or a hundred of these babies lurking in your closet. Yet even though they look hot, one cannot negate the fact that many soles that don these instruments just don’t know how to maneuver in them. And if you can’t glide like a swan, then just leave the heels and do your back, and society, a favor.

There are more than a handful of fashion victims out there. I am always astounded by the sheer number of ladies who wear very high heels to work every day. I always thought that stilettos were only required if your office desk was, in fact, a pole or someone’s lap. Yet there are herds and herds of females that wear pointy devil shoes as part of their professional corporate attire.

The issue arises when those that don’t know how to walk in heels do so anyways. And there are many women who are completely unaware of what they look like. There are those that hunch forward, to try to avert the pressure on the ankles. The result is that they walk looking like they are about to charge you, kind of like a raging bull-ess. Then there are the femme fatales that allow their ankles to sway wildly while they try to resist gravity. Note to you ladies, the only things that should be swinging that much are the sexually adventurous folks out there.  And finally, there are the dames that insist on heels so uncomfortable that their faces are plastered with tears and grimaces akin to a birthing mother. These last set usually scuffle to the bathrooms for relief or just won’t get up at all.

If you look at the anatomy of the heel, it immediately becomes apparent that it was invented either by angry gay men or the Dark Lord himself. At least when they first made the scene, the heel had a little base to even out the impact on your poor feet, but as we can see today, fashion has diminished comfort to the point that some heels rest on atoms for support.

I used to wear heels before my disc. Months after my injury, I remember trying to wear a pair and as soon as that searing pain shot down the nerves of my leg, I kissed those babies good-bye and opted to rely instead on my big personality. However I do certainly understand the appeal, which is why I’m sharing a few tips for the height-addicted.

Tip number one: Keep your back straight. A great way to practice this is to walk around in the privacy of your own home and balance a book on your head. Once you can walk around swiftly without dropping the book, you are ready to take your strut to the general public.

Tip number two: your feet should always be parallel; not turned in nor out. If your feet don’t point straight ahead, not only do you look like you are being examined by a gynecologist while walking but you are also adding unnecessary tension to certain weak points, like your ankles.

Tip number three: start with smaller heels, or wedges. The wedge is my hero, it won’t hurt your back as much and you don’t have to worry about getting your heel stuck in sewage drain covers or ….

Tip number four: If you insist on wearing a pair when you go clubbing, sneak in a pair of foldable Scholl ballerinas in your bag. You’ll make your grand entrance, look astoundingly hot for the first few dances, then when everyone you’ve impressed has strapped on the booze goggles, you can enjoy the evening in the comfort of flats.

If you just can’t seem to manage any of these, keep the heels for turning on your lover in the safety and vicinity of the bedroom. You’ll still look hot with your legs in the air, and you can spare your spine and bones the pressure. Just make sure you don’t poke out his eye.

 

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