Greetings, captions fans! It’s time once again to play Twistie’s Sunday Caption Madness.
You all know how this works. I choose a photo that’s simply weeping into its Corn Flakes for a caption or twelve. You provide said captions via the comments function. Next saturday I will pick a winner and we all go our separate virtual ways to celebrate in our personal favorite manners.
This week’s image comes to you from Electronic Hades (as opposed to Toaster Heaven – and there will be extra points awarded to anyone who gets that reference), and it looks a little like this:
Ready… set… snark!
Memorial Day weekend is the official start of barbeque and pool party season. That means we all need some great casual clothes that will help us keep our cool while looking hot. Getting them at a steal is the icing on the cake.
It’s not often that I feel moved to recommend a novelty tee, but I’m in love with this cute tee from Catherine’s featuring a nailhead stud picture of a fish. Just add a flirty skirt, great pair of shorts, or a very carefully proportioned pair of capris, and you’re ready for fun. What’s more, it’s breathable since it’s 100% cotton. It’s easy care since it’s machine washable, too. The price is $32.00 – $36.00 depending on size (that’s 0X – 5X), but right now there’s a sale on.
Now through June 1, buy two items, get 20% off. Buy three and get a 30% discount. Buy four pieces and, that’s right, get 40% off. On top of all that, I think we really need to support a plus size clothier that uses real plus size models rather than attempting to dress size 8 girls in size 14 clothes to give us an idea of how we’ll look.
Miss Plumcake loves the gays. We all know that. I go to their clubs, I march in their parades (Austin Pride June 5th, y’all!) I go to weddings with them if Aunt Titsy is too concerned about shocking the neighbors or messing up the boy-girl seating arrangements she’s had nailed down since Cousin Bettina’s first Communion. I am an A#1 certified Prom Date (I don’t spend this much time at the medspa to be called a hag) and I cherish that. I don’t even mind –in fact I relish– those few times when I’ve been confused with a drag queen.
Last Friday a gentleman caller and I were having The Talk.
You know, the talk where you decide Where This Is All Going blah blah blah. I hate that talk. I hate most serious relationship-y conversations and frankly, part of the appeal of dating a Glaswegian was not having to deal with tedious relationship-wrecking things like emotions or expressed feelings.
Things were getting a little uncomfortable for me.
I’m clearly not into this guy as much as he’s into me (cute, but a non-starter in some really significant ways) so after he says The Big Thing he wanted to say, I –trying to lighten the mood– put on a big I’m a lumberjack face, flexed my pretend muscles (because if I can’t be Judy Garland when I grow up, at least I can be Eric Idle) and said in a super-deep James Earl Jones voice “Good, because I’m a man.”
He believed me! Apparently he’d dated a girl who was mid-transition once and didn’t tell him, and it set him off forever.
Birth certificate, baby pictures –complete with comments from my dad on Facebook– NOTHIN’. And of course the more I denied it the “guiltier” I looked in his eyes. And the most infuriating part was he was trying to be The Sensitive Guy about it which made me even madder because I wanted to be the one to reject HIM. He’s the jerk who “forgot” to mention he had a girlfriend back in Glasgow before I dumped him the first time in January, I’m the catch with the immaculate rack. It’s the natural order of things!
Generally I don’t care what people believe about me as long as it doesn’t pertain to my character.
I know there were plenty of folks who thought Miss Plumcake was a group of gay men. Heck, even Francesca thought I was a strong black woman trying to “pass” as white Southern belle (yeah, I don’t know why either, but it was hi-larious when it all came out). So you know, whatever. But it really threw me to have my gender questioned.
He said I was a very nice girl blah blah blah but he’s “only interested in women with wombs.”
Does a womb make a woman?
I’ve got one but I don’t plan on using it, another friend with a passel of gorgeous biological children (although they’re gross, because all children are gross…gross and moist) doesn’t have one anymore. Does that make me more of a woman even though I’ve never done womanly things like
push a shrieking, money-sucking demon the size of a toaster oven out of my Very Thing experience the joys of childbirth? Of course not.
Which brings me to the Very Special Episode portion of the blog.
Biologically I am a woman, but biology has precious little to do with it when I come to think about it. I am a woman in my soul, I live my life as a woman and deal with all the joys and pains (well except the childbirth pains…suckers!) that come with it. But so do my girls who weren’t born as biological women. They deal with all that and more, and even though I fight them for the only pair of size 42 Roberto Cavalli pumps with the gold serpent sculptural heels (and I am NOT afraid to bite) they are my sisters.
Last year in an oft-quoted interview with The Daily Beast I said:
““I’m fat, I have money. I’m more than willing to give it in quantity to the store who will supply me with beautifully made clothes that don’t make me look like a hooker, a tranny, or someone’s bingo-playing grandma from Duluth.”
I got lots of letters of outrage, and I replied to everyone who was reasonable saying I was an equal opportunity mocker and my history of civil rights work on behalf of the gay and transgendered community would stand for itself, which I am and which it does.
The first rule of Plumcake Fight Club is you don’t kick someone when they’re down. You don’t attack people who are already made vulnerable in society. That’s not what comedy is about and that’s certainly not what I’m about, but that’s what I did. And you know what?
I was wrong.
I was wrong, wrong wrongity wrong and I’m sorry. I had no idea, HAVE no idea, how difficult it must be to feel like you don’t fit in with something so many people take for granted. I just had this teensy little experience –something that’ll be a chapter in a book someday and that I was laughing about 48 hours later– but the rejection and the lack of understanding is something I’ll never forget.
I hope someday as a society we’ll be at the place where we can reclaim the word “tranny” just as we’ve reclaimed “queer” but we’re not there yet, and until we are, the word “tranny” no longer has a place in my vocabulary outside the auto-mechanical realm.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I have violet hair.
I went to my stylist asking for my Superman blue streaks to be touched up and she’d already bleached out my new growth before she realized she was out my my special blue dye, so violet is the next best thing. It looks fine.
It’s not what I wanted but getting all het up over hair woes isn’t really my deal.
I mean sure there was the unfortunate Dano Débâcle of 2009 where this supposed hair genius who is Very Important and Famous and Exclusive pretty much turned me into Ms Linda Dano circa 1989, but other than that, it’s hair. The execution was flawless so even though it wasn’t what I wanted, it’s been a nice change.
(oh man, you MUST watch this! It’s a clip from “Attitudes” her daytime talk show, it’s like Brittany from Glee had a talk show and Nagel make-up)
Anyway, the violet crown incident has made me think of ruts and how it’s important to tweak our looks from time to time. I’m not talking about total Madonna reinvention but a little nip here and there is good for the soul, lest one become a cartoon of oneself *COUGHLIZAMINNELLICOUGH*
I tend to err on the side of feminine classic in the Dior style. For example, today I’m wearing this dress by Evan Picone, and it’s fabulous.
For some reason they stopped selling this above a 16 online at Macy’s, but I’m fairly sure they still exist in true plus sizes in stores, although I bought mine a few years ago. Still if you like this dress and CAN get it, do. This is a Holy Grail Dress for pears.
But woman cannot live by one silhouette alone, tempting though it might be. That’s one of the differences between personal style and big ole rutting rut.
(coupon after the jump)
Welcome to the Humpletter!
The Humpletter is our weekly-as-of-last-week Wednesday sales post. Twistie, having cracked the bottle of champagne over the bow, has returned to her weekend post and will do her own salesthingum on Saturday or Sunday so I’m skippering this salesboat during the week.
So that’s (let me put on my “puke” which is radio-parlance for that really disgusting overly cheerful radio voice normally announcing monster truck rallies) two Two TWO sales roundups a week!
First we’ve got Lane Bryant, who’ve got a ton of things on sale, up to 40% off. I particularly like these twill shorts because they have a bit of a flare to them.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s shorts with kung-fu fabric deathgrip on my thighs. Plus they remind me a teensy bit of the 1930’s and 40’s sporting shorts –as seen here on Martha Vickers as Carmen in The Big Sleep— without being frilly or costumey.
Cacique has all Cacique bras buy one get one half off. Of course I must recommend my All Time Favorite Bra (also known as my “What seems to be the problem, officer?” bra)
They also have all fashion panties 5 for $29. I love these lace jobbers because they’re dead comfy and sexy enough for visitors. Whenever I entertain a new gentleman caller I get all new lingerie because, well, I don’t reuse wrapping paper for gifts of any variety.
Continue reading Your Weekly Humpletter after the jump!
Yesterday our BR (beloved reader) Tropical Chrome made the following request:
Would it be at all possible if, during shoe month, you could address proper expectations from better shoes? I ask because every time I buy a new pair of good shoes, no matter how well fitted they are for my feet (with experienced sales help at a better name store even!) or how long I test walk them in the store or how comfortable they feel there, I end up with blisters and hot spots when I wear them for real. While I don’t expect heels or dress shoes to be as comfortable as bedroom slippers or sneakers, I don’t expect to be in pain with broken skin after wearing them every time either.Or are all women at this level of pain at the end of every day and no one talks about it? Or do I just have unique feet that change shape after I leave the shoe store?
Solemmetellyou a little story about lasts.
This is a last:
A last is the mold on which shoes are made. This last was most likely used to make this shoe:
Which, while not my favorite shoe in the world, is by no means the worst of the built-in-sock variety of shoe/sock/bootie (shockootie?)
Some lasts are more foot-shaped than others:
but they will not –and I cannot overemphasize this– be YOUR foot shape.
Your feet, like mine, have lumps and bumps and that weird little scar from the time you dropped a glass on your big toe and all sorts of things that make your tooties your own and that means there’s probably going to be some discomfort and you and your shoes get to know each other.
See how I said “some discomfort” and not, I don’t know, “gross oozing pustules of hurtiness“?
That’s because shoes should never do that.
So the first thing we need to do is abandon the idea that we can buy a fancy pair of shoes and wear them for eight hours straight for days on end without repercussions. Which isn’t to say it hasn’t happened, but don’t place your bets that way.
Here are some handy tips and tricks to keep the blisters at bay: