Fashion Advice From GOOP

She's baaack. And no, I will not be mixing wacky prints. You try that and you're one step away from looking like the cleaning lady that takes the bus to the rich people's neighborhoods every morning. You know, the poor gal got some hand-me-downs from her employer and wanted to show off all the designer labels at once. Not hot, unless you are heading straight from cleaning toilets to auditions for a John Waters movie.

The rest of the advice is pretty good. I will be rocking my riding boots this fall, along with lots of tights (help! I can't find any good knits!) and fitted jackets. Mini skirts are always good and I'm still on the hunt for the perfect pea coat. I got the fake fur jacket. Only $20 at a thrift shop!
It looks real, right? It's a good thing we don't have a lot of PETA crazies here in Ohio. I don't want any red paint thrown on me, though the coat is machine washable. Brilliant!

See, you don't need a lot of money to look good. Like I could afford to shop at Kirna Zabete. Maybe I could come out of there with a pair of socks. MAYBE.

Definitely Airbrushed

I saw the original right after it was taken. It was a Polaroid 20x24 camera. It spit out the prints just like a regular 2x2 that you buy at the drug store. My butt was showing some cheek. As for the perfect white skin? All natural, of course. If you don't count the layer of kabuki powder.

This ad was in every magazine back then so I best let you know, it was for a perfume/bath oil called ONE from 1991. I have no idea what it smelled like. Over-used curling irons and fancy schmancy sheets from the clearance rack at Bloomingdales? That's my guess.

Airbrushed?

David LaChapelle took this one all the way back in '86. I'm not sure how much he airbrushed. Hopefully just the dress? I dunno. I cut that part out of the picture. I don't even remember what magazine it was in. I do remember that he liked to make the edges of his pictures fuzzy back then, and I had some beautiful prints he gave me that some ex-boyfriend is holding hostage in a storage space in New York. What an asshole. The ex, not David. David got me started. I would not have had a portfolio if he hadn't taken an interest in me. I would have had a much harder time getting signed, not that I gave a shit. Modeling came to me, not the other way around, and as obnoxious as that sounds, it's true. I moved to New York in January of 1985 because I fell in love with it two months before. I had no aspirations of fame or fortune. I just wanted to get the hell out of Akron, Ohio. You would too. Trust me.

P.S. If you're young and you are reading this, take lots of pictures of yourself. Be creative, have fun. Get your friends in on it. My old friend recently showed me some photos another friend took of us in college, ones where we were trying to be all arty and shit. They were AWESOME. Trust me, when you are my age, you will relish those memories. You will love giggling over your first forays into creative visual expression. As a matter of fact, do it whether you are 18 or 48. Who cares? You'll still always be looking back, you know?

Michigan House

Here are some photographs I took of my friend's cute and kitsch weekend home in Union pier, Michigan. It's for sale, by the way. Not including antiques, of course (unless you're easily impressed by my persistent proclamations that they are worth the extra hundred grand I will insist he add on to the price).

Hallway mirror and chiffonier- worth almost as much as the clock that sits there and doesn't tell time.
I love this kitchen. I don't remember anything that ever happens there, but a case of wine in three days will do that to you. Do gays roofie straight girls?

Mark has a thing for Chinoiserie. I do too. I will not fault him for it. He discovered happy endings in Thailand and won't shut up about it, something about their love of tapioca. Not sure. I never really listen after the third glass of Malbec.

The dining room. A place to hang your coat, drop your stuff as you come in from the outside. Have we actually eaten at the table? Why bother actually sitting down when we never stop eating or drinking the entire time we're there? That isn't completely true. We do take breaks to make bitchy comments while watching cooking shows and Tosh.0. And flash pizza delivery guys. I'm famous in Union Pier, bitches. Jealous much?

Entryway and living room beyond. You have no idea how many times I have wanted to drop stuff on Mark when he comes home. He uses the rear entrance, sadly. Always trying to stay on top of things, so to speak.

Our room when we visit. It's like sleeping in a tree house. Mark made the quilted headboard himself. Mr. McSlore and I helped decorate it, but you need one of those fancy CSI blue lights to see the pretty designs. Sorry.

The house really is for sale. If you're interested in owning a beautiful house an hour and a half outside of Chicago in Harbor Country, email me. I'll give you all the details. I'm sure he'll throw the headboard in with the listed price, if you ask real nice.

I Made Some New Friends

He looks like a bat. I wish he was a bat. He could have eaten all the mosquito bugs and saved me a week of nasty itchy bites.


So, Mr. McSlore and I took a little vacation on the shores of Lake Michigan this past week. I have a friend who has a cute as a button house in Harbor Country, and we were visited by some midget mischief makers,

one of whom still has his balls!

This is Aidan. He likes to ride down sand dunes face first and then hack it all up on the shiny wood floors he can't grip. He hates those floors. They make him take mincing Nancy-boy steps every time he wants to navigate to the kitchen area for free handouts.

This is Luke. He is sweet as pie.

How do i know this?

His brother never stops licking him.

His fur looks like a cowhide. Perchance, on the sad day of his passing, some little girl will receive a couture worthy Ralph Lauren-esque cowhide print coat for her Barbie? It's what Karl would do.

Just don't make him into these-

There's a circle of hell waiting for you if you do. I'll be waiting in my Crocs.

Now, excuse me while I nap and fart before my Daddy takes me back to Chicago.

The dog. Not me. I fart, THEN nap.

I Used To Get Paid To Wear Stuff. Or Nothing At All.

I'm going to start a regular feature where I post pictures from my modeling days in the heady eighties and early nineties. It's all Tobie Wan Kenobi's fault for sending me pictures from a photo shoot that I forgot about and LOVE. Sometimes the obscurely published stuff is some of the best. This one is for my friend Thomas's clothing line that I think we did in 1986. He made amazing stuff out of old Levi's. I still have the white and red jacket he gave me as payment. AWESOME guy, almost as awesome as Tobes.

Haters And Ugly Kids

Do you see that link at the top of the page? The one that says 'Next Blog?' I hit it a bunch of times today and surfed blogs that I would never, ever bother with otherwise. First up- an unfunny comedian (no names) who had links to all his internet pissings, each one less interesting than the last.

Then, people that only post pictures of their family members and feel compelled to write things like, "younger grandchild splashing too much in pool." Jesus Crimany, get a Flickr page and call it a day!

Then, three blogs in a row dedicated to fisherman holding up their slimy catch, smiling like they bagged a barracuda instead of a trout. Finally, I lost it when there were three (again!) blogs opining the totally rad lifestyle of the surfer. Out of all these people, these crumb bums were the biggest douchebags. No one else came CLOSE.

One guy, let's call him Sharkfood, tried and failed to seem oh-so cool by informing the world that he was leaving soon to shred in Bali. That's right, SharkChum is leaving his condo in Cali, storing his subaru and leaving these boring environs to be a man and live by his wits (and Daddy's credit card), thereby staving off becoming predictable and boring, a fate worse than death, I tell you!

One thing all these assholes have in common- their outspoken hatred of golf, as if telling the reader "I hate golf!" you gain some kind of instant anti-middle class credibility. Lazy, that's all it is. For all the macho outdoorsyness, it just smacks of lazy thinking.

I know! Post a picture of an E.R. doctor pulling Tiger Shark teeth out of what's left of your thigh. THEN I might believe you're an anti-establishment thrill seeker worth his weight in sex wax.

Shaggy Androgyny

This is Freja Beha Erichson, Danish model on the cusp of super. I found her over at Jezebel and my first response was, "Oh, they're putting pretty boys on the cover of fashion magazines, yay!" You can never have too many pretty boys around. Then, I took another look and realized it was a 'she.' A she that looks like a gorgeous version of Robert Mapplethorpe's muse, Patti Smith. Do you love the hairstyle? It's straight out of Dazed and Confused, which is fine with me. I am loving the 90s revival this year, even if part of it involves a proxy 70s revivel. Everything old is new again, and I'm totally rocking tights and pleated skirts this Fall. I don't care what anyone says.

Today Is My Birthday

I am 29 & 34/2! I don't feel a day over 12! Really! I don't! If you don't believe me, look at all these exclamation points! What grown woman does that?!?

(I'm drunk. duh. it's 7:45. it's a miracle I'm still standing)

Look at the cake Mr. McSlore got me!

Wooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

Don't Mess With Betty

Do you get as annoyed by Kristen Bell as I do? Don't you just love it when some marginally talented pea brain insists on referring to themselves as an "Ack-tohr," emphasis on the Ack? That Sarah Marshall movie would have been nothing without Russell Brand's brazen bawdiness and the cuteness of Mila Kunis. Kristen was just filler, and who doesn't love Sigourney Weaver reciting her resume? Very cute clip from Funny or Die.

You Again Cast Fight from Betty White

Andy Samberg On Drugs

Did you know that there was actually cocaine in the first incarnation of Coca Cola? Can you even imagine? Kinda explains the industrial revolution along with the squalor, not to mention the insane blood letting in the wild west. Ha, who am I kidding? Coke wasn't as popular back then, was it?
I had to give up the Diet stuff. Aspertame is the devil. It is. Do your own research. Just buy the yuck tasting stevia stuff they sell at Whole Foods and poor some cherry juice in it. OR live with cancer-like symptoms, unpredictable periods and periodic mood swings, YAY!

Boobs Everywhere

I promise to never complain about my boobs ever again. EVER.

http://www.villagevoice.com/slideshow/naked-juggalettes-nsfw-30847080/

Better Jupiter Than Us

Funny thing is, whatever hit the planet is probably the size of earth.

Dave Mustaine Smells Good

It was Tuesday. The weather had broken for 24 hours, just long enough to do some yard work and head up to Joseph Beth to get an autographed copy of Dave Mustaine'e new autobiography. For any non-metal heads out there, he was a founding member of Metallica, has been in rehab 17 times and fronts the highly successful, both critically and financially, band Megadeth.

We approach the facade of the store, and what's that I see? A little placard notifying the customers of today's luncheon specials? Must get a closer look..

How heartwarming! I wonder if Dave had a hand in this? He's changed, you see. He CARES. He doesn't smoke dope or screw random women while spreading disease from Boston to Vancouver. Not anymore.

The line is long-ish. We wait for twenty minutes with me trying to think of something clever to say which is probably the precise thing that you don't want to do. We get closer until the guy right in front of us is talking to him.

I want to request for him to write 'Lars is a fruitcake' in my copy, but completely lose my nerve when I see his impatience with the tongue tied and star struck military guy in front of me.

It's my turn and all I blurt out is "You smell good." Waaaaaahhhh!!!!

By the way, the book is really good. It has your usual tales of a woebegone childhood and a drug addled rock God lifestyle, but it's written in a frank no-nonsense manner that anyone can appreciate. It's just a damn fine read. AND it answers the question I always wanted to ask- what the hell happened to his arm?

Britney Spears And The Letter 'L'

I never noticed how she exaggerates her tongue motions when singing the letter 'L.' Please tell me that a gay guy did this and not a perv. Thanks.

It gets gross after a while, no?