While on a wild pinning spree, I started to notice a repetative pattern in the images from one of my favorite stores. (If you just said, "huh?" I'm talking Pinterest. Google it.)
Juxtaposition, odd marketing stategy, trying to make overpriced linens seem not so over-priced? Art? Call it what you will. All I took from these advertising images is the assumed truth that Anthropologie shoppers must all live in crack dens.
They moved the bed away from the wall so now they're safe from the mold, you see.
Every little girl's fantasy bedroom: Wrought iron headboard, pretty yellow sheets and sludgy walls.
Roof over my head, or fancy comforter... Roof over my head, or fancy comforter...? FANCY COMFORTER!!!
Why, no! No murder was ever commited here. Just go to sleep dear...
The best way to counteract asbestos? A purple chair-and-a-half!
The honeymoon suite. Just don't look up tonight, darling!
Scared by the nightime sounds of your house settling? You just need an antelope pillow to cuddle up to.
With pretty bedding like this, you won't mind ingesting lead-based paint chips in your sleep!
No time to repair plaster and refinish the hardwood floors? A low-hanging chandelier is sure to distract the eye.
I couldn't afford a Trapper Keeper for my homework because my duvet cost too much.
The most restful place to position the bed is directly beneath where the bathtub is likely to fall through.
So, next time you begin to judge the lady with the fancy shopping bag, vintage-looking sailor pants and the perfectly heathered embroidered sweater... Don't jealously assume she's going home to your dream house. Maybe, just maybe, some Anthropologie shoppers really do live in crack-dens.
Some may be gypsies...
And, some simply homeless...
(They do have free coffee in their stores, you know.)
The 2013 Academy Awards Show was the most anticipated by me in years. I had actually seen most of the nominees for once. I had mapped out my favorites and predictions. I had enjoyed the preceding award shows of the season, along with all of their stunning fashions, presentations and funny acceptance speeches.
But, in those other shows' wake, the 2013 Oscars could not hold up in comparison. The fashions were too safe. The speeches were mainly short, bland and sweet in fear of being played off by the Jaws theme. And, the water cooler moments were few to say the least. Bluntly put, the Oscars had a giant stick up its rump that the viewing audience was longing to see extracted at some point during the night. Yes, three-and-a-half hours seems an adequate time allowance for such a surgery, but alas...
Mining for gold in a coal mine, I managed to dig out the few treasures and honorable mentions from the C+ broadcast.
Let's start with the Red Carpet booby prizes:
Speaking of Booby Prizes: We all know what we thought we saw when Anne Hathaway made her entrance on the red carpet. Yes, we all thought it... and we're still not entirely sure.
Best Date: I've inherited a little Bradley Cooper crush after seeing him act his heart (and lungs) out in Silver Linings Playbook. He managed to create the only bipolar-loudmouth-rageaholic on screen that you actually want to take home to your mother. Speaking of moms... he then brought his along as his date for the big night, upping his adorable factor. I also place 2:1 odds on the bet that he reluctantly also let her do his hair that night.
I'm not normally the biggest Halle Berry fan (or even a fan at all...) but when the pros at Versace heard she was presenting the Bond retrospective, they whipped up this metallic shiner just for her. She looks just like a pistol! Mission accomplished.
The We-Get-It-You-Have-Nice-Hair Award goes to...
Jennifer Aniston, of course. Call me old-fashion, but I come from the school that if you choose to wear a dress that's wider than your shoulders, you should probably put your hair up. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy that you're happy Jen. But, there's a thing called a chignon. Try it sometime.
The Up-or-Down-Doesn't-Matter-to-Me-But-You-Could-at-Least-Run-a-Comb-Through-It Award goes to: K-Stew. Or, as I now dub her, K-Strewn. It's your foot that's hurt, not your hairdresser's hands. Just sayin'...
Achievement-In-Puffiness Award goes to Amy Adams. Some of the red carpet pros called it grey, some called in pale blue. I just called it entertainment for the rest of the night each time the stage camera panned to the front row and the entire row, along with all the earth around it, was swallowed up by Amy and Jennifer Lawrence's huge poufs. But, my love for Amy Adams proves that she can do no wrong.
My Porcelain-Doll Award goes to Adele.
My-Eyes-My-Eyes-My-Retinas-Are-Burning-Right-In-My-Head Trophy goes to Jane Fonda. But, she does get bonus points for wearing some color, which most everyone else seemed afraid to do this year. Even more bonus points awarded for not letting us believe for a minute that she's 75.
My Best Dressed of the Night went to Jessica Chastain. You know you've arrived when someone begs to make free dresses for you that perfectly match the color of your skin and hair.
My Runner-Up for Best Dressed goes to Naomi Watts. Not just as an apology for not having seen The Impossible yet, but for actually taking a risk on this safe night. I normally think of sequins as being dated. But, with the most interesting and least offensive cut-out of the season, she definitely earns at least a silver medal in my book.
Now onto the show:
As for Seth MacFarlane's hosting... meh. He wasn't as offensive as Ricky Gervais's attempt at the Golden Globes. But, I definitely would have preferred Tina and Amy, or Billy Crystal, or Chris Rock, or Ellen Degeneres... It's great that some singing and dancing was brought back to occasion. But, the most entertaining part of his tenure as host came, not from the show, but in the press the next day when he went on the record as saying he'd never host again. Something tells me someones had experience preempting a breakup!
The "We saw your Boobs" song controversy: Yeah... it was a little tacky. But, if you don't want people singing about your boobs, don't have your boobs recorded on film and then broadcast to millions. (Jennifer Lawrence has this lesson down.)
Tommy Lee Jones Smiles: just before he gets robbed.
Les Mis Cast Sings Live: Accompanied by Russell Crowe's bobbing head keeping time as metronome.
Revenge of the Blondes: Showing at an Oscar-cast near you. Gooooooooo hippies! (Or are they surfers? It's hard to tell. Metal-heads...?)
Less-Impressed-Than-Kristen-Stewart Award: Joaquin Phoenix is our winner by a long shot. Just when you thought no one could be more annoyed by their invitation to the biggest event on the planet, someone had to go and nominate Joaquin for Best Actor. The nerve! (Honestly, though... the more I watch this gif, the more I pray for his soul. Marvelous actor, but is he okay?)
The Mighty Fall: The press made a way bigger deal out of this than necessary. Maybe it just fell slightly higher on the ranking of the night's lowlights that it had to stick. If you haven't heard, Jennifer Lawrence slightly stumbled on her way up the stairs to receive her Best Actress trophy. And, people were just amazed that she found humor in the moment and had the dignity to go on with her speech! Puh-leeze... Did they want her to run backstage crying about it?! If she had tumbled from the top of the stairs to the bottom and then continued to roll down the nearest aisle, poufy dress over head, maybe then the moment would have warranted a YouTube clip here. But, this pic is all you get. (On the bright side, the following burst of laughter may have been enough to finally stir Joaquin Phoenix from his coma.) By the way, Meryl Streep also tripped on her dress, right on stage, when presenting the next award... but, any mention of this in the press? Nooo...
Best Preggo Presentation was brought to us earlier in the night by Channing and Jenna Tatum.
Causing us to wonder who's future bump we'll be anticipating nine months from tonight.
Will it be:
Yes, Tim and Helena appear to have just rolled out of the sack...
But, I think Ben and Jennifer stand the best chance for Most-Likely-to-Get-Knocked-Up-Tonight.
Speaking of Ben Affleck: He wins my prize for Most Sincere Gratitude, which is nice to see in Hollywood.
Lastly, there's a bigger prize I have to award tonight. My Best Overall goes to the adorable Quvenzhane' Wallis.
She first wowed us on the red carpet with her gown chosen strictly on merits of fluffliness and sparkliness. (Not to mention her coordinating puppy dog purse.)
She then continued to entertain us throughout the night by cheering for herself at every mention of her name, showing off her muscles and all-in-all enjoying herself. At nine years of age, she's the award show's youngest Best Actress nominee. But, unlike many child stars who've come before her, she doesn't have that polished child-actress grace. She's not overly-poised in her interviews. She didn't seem to be reciting the words of her publicist all night. She just came to have fun at an event that's meant to be fun. Which is something that the stressed-out professionals four times her age seem to have forgotten how to do.
A fist pump for Quvenzhane'! May your future be as sweet as your night was. And, may your ego stay as grounded as Jennifer Lawrence's knees. ('Cause she fell down... did you hear?)
Here is a list of things I'm officially tired of hearing about at the moment:
Gabby Douglas's hair: Gabby Douglas is a beautiful, extraordinarily talented girl. So why the fuss over her hair? I'm tired of hearing mothers, who pay exorbitant amounts of moolah to have chemicals drenched and a weave sewn into their own young daughters' hair, criticizing the care and keeping given by our national hero's mama. Her hair is, yes, relaxed and then pulled into a bun when working... like every other gymnasts' on earth. Then, off duty, she wears the exact same hairstyle as my own teen-aged niece. So the real question is, You got a problem with my niece's hair?
Miley's hair: I absolutely love Miley Cyrus's new hairdo! It suits her face, it suits her personality and it definitely suits her age. So why do I keep reading headlines of shock and awe about whether there are deeper issues involved in this celebrity's haircut? The world has no control over any one person's personal style choices and the sooner the world realizes this, the happier I'll be. She is not really Hannah Montana! And, besides, *secret to be spilt* Hannah Montana wore a wig. I tried a very short hair cut myself in my twenties, the best time to experiment with extreme fashion. I even tried to frost it to this shade of platinum, but mine turned out yellow instead. Shocked? Nope. Jealous? Absolutely.
Lindsay Lohan. Period.: Once upon a time, I watched Freaky Friday, Confessions of Teenage Drama Queen and Mean Girls so many times with my niece that I couldn't even venture a guess at the tally. She was such a promising young actress at the time and then something went slightly off kilter. The world took notice, then something went drastically wrong. The world, then, never stopped paying attention, perpetuating a spiral that apparently was never to be recovered from. World: Please, stop looking at her. It's the only cure. (Remember Speidi? No? Good. See, my theory is now proven.)
Passive/aggressive Facebook posts featuring unsolicited parental advice: We get it, we get it... you're a good mom or dad. No one doubted you. No one needed proof. And, certainly no one wanted advice that didn't ask for it. You see, being a good parent isn't a rarity. Most parents I know are pretty great at it. So, quit assuming you're way is best when most other parenting styles are working just as effectively. Don't expect the world to praise you for refusing to vaccinate. Don't expect a trophy for forcing your child to go vegan. And, the world will absolutely not be throwing a banquet in your honor because you chose to breastfeed until the age of five. The sooner you realize this, the sooner friends will start "liking" your statuses again.
The chemicals I may be ingesting, at my own will, as a grown human being: Going along with the previous category; I myself don't need advice about my own diet either. I have been eating meat, dairy, processed foods, carbs, preservatives and additives my entire life. And, guess what? I have my doctor's seal of approval! If a number skews ever-so-slightly in a worrisome direction upon any visit, we make the appropriate dietary adjustments to correct and move on. So, while I salute your self-control and your acquired taste for foods that taste like yard grass, while I tolerate your tolerance to ingest a product with the word "germ" in its title... I am uninterested in participating. I eat, not for political or social agenda, but to stay fueled and living. Seeing that I'm upright at the moment, breathing and typing... it appears that my way works too. (Remember: It's your b.m.'s that are unusual in color and texture, not mine.)
Your political convictions: Newsflash! Your offensive critiques, exhausting Facebook rants and "clever" memes have yet to sway a single soul. Yes, you're passionate. You have your convictions. But, guess what? We all do! And, they're rarely identical. That's why we show up at those polling stations with the little walled off booths that make one's vote private and sacred. The way they were meant to be.
The designer names of your attire: When you're talking about your shoes, they're not your "Jimmy Choos", they're your shoes. When your putting on your jacket, your not putting on your "Burberry", it's simply your jacket to rest of the world. When you're digging through your purse, you're not digging through your "Louis Vuitton", it's just a bag, for the love of Pete! If you feel the need to turn every label into a noun, think long and hard about why you feel the need to do that and then be very sad with yourself. If you, then, still feel the need to pronounce your "Gucci"s, I'll give you a head start while zip up my Gaps and lace up my Targets.
Today I feel the need to stand up for my convictions and publicly celebrate the most overrated and underappreciated haircut of my adult years: The Rachel.
Come the turn of the century, I've heard The Rachel referred to as the "ugliest haircut on earth", "the biggest mistake of my life" and something to filed under "What were we thinking?"---mostly online and most likely by females younger than I, because anyone my age (or Rachel's age, for that matter) hands down would list their biggest hair regret as The Dorothy Hamill.
You didn't have to go full "Rachel", mind you. There were modified versions, ala Courtney Cox's longer version and Meg Ryan's shorter adorable 'do in You've Got Mail.
All bearing the same hallmarks of the cut---tons of choppy layers on top and ends chopped at a near 45 degree angle that could be flipped up or tucked under, depending on the funkiness of your mood that day.
I'm going to go against the tide here and state that this was one of the most versatile styles of my twenties. You could scrunch it, curl it, flat iron it, tease it, wear it natural, pin back part of it, pin back lots of it and still have enough for a ponytail (...if you didn't opt for the full "Rachel" in the back, that is.)
If any of you have seen Jennifer Aniston's hair before she became famous, you'll understand where I'm coming from. It was an unfortunate mix of poufy and frizzy that was not quite curly/not quite straight. Or, in other words, exactly like the stuff that sprouts out of my own head.
Her hairstylist found the brilliant solution to those afflicted with our unusual texture by cutting away enough of it, making it actually manageable! Our mornings got shorter for those few blessed years. Then the cut went out of style and those of my kind were forced to go back to frying our rebellious tresses with curling and straightening irons and/or chemical treatments for hours on end.
Well, I'm striking back! After flipping past too many old Friends reruns this week (because, seriously, it's on like every second of the day) and post one late-night viewing of You'veGot Mail, I started to remember how easy my hair had it back in those days.
Well why can't I still have it easy? Who's to say?! My hair had already received an over half-a-foot self-chopping this week. (Yes, I've been my own hairstylist since the age of sixteen. I have "issues", have I mentioned?) And, even with that extra weight removed, it was still hanging all blobby and frizzy in this Michigan humidity. So I decided, against trend, "That's it! I'm Rachel-ing!!"
And, so I did.
Forgive the lack of makeup. Did I mention it's like a 100 degrees here?! Why waste good concealer?
I did a longer version and not as choppy as I wore it back in the day, and minus the crazy layers in back that make it signature... plus I've got bangs... well, maybe it's not exactly a Rachel 'do, but what da ya know?
It's still lighter than air!
It dances!
It's glasses-friendly, which is important!
It works for me!
Whether it's a "Rachel" I wear today or not, I'll still defend the 'do to the end! Layers are good for people like me. We weren't all naturally blessed with good hair like Phoebe Buffay. We Rachels of the hair world need to not be so ashamed. They're just layers... get over it!
If you don't think it's still in style, but you miss it, go for it! It was never as bad as The Mullet, for crikey's sake. And, long after The Rachel---in this same century, mind you---came The Kate Gosselin. Do you really want to pick that battle?
(BTW: If we're not considering this a "Rachel" then explain why am I having a sudden urge to dance in a fountain and elope to Vegas with Ross?)
