Manolo for the Big Girl

Oh hell no. I may be drunk, but I’m not THAT drunk.

There is no way in harlequined hell I’m wearing stirrup pants again.

I mean, I get stirrups as a practical matter.

If you’re horseback riding they’re invaluable but I haven’t ridden in years. At this point in my life, if my feet are going in stirrups there will either be a medical professional or a US Senator bearing Scotch involved, and since I don’t live in DC anymore (and don’t have the morals of an alley cat) it’s far more likely to be the former, and while there are a lot of non-fashion references I’m glad to make in my daily ensemble, being prodded by the Frozen Escargot Tongs of The Damned is not one of them.

Plus, I have a grudge against stirrup pants on a personal level.

Let me take you on a little word journey back through the hazy mists of time to November 1989, where a young Miss Plumcake was sitting semi-attentively in Mister Kapusnik’s fifth-grade class.  I was semi-attentive because the stirrups of my brand new cow-print stirrup pants ( the ones that precisely matched my equally be-Holsteined mock-turtle halter trapeze top) were bothering my feet.  And do you know what happened while I was fiddling about?

The Berlin Wall fell.

Everyone else has great stories to tell about where they were when the Berlin Wall fell and I don’t because MY STUPID STIRRUP PANTS RUINED THE FALL OF COMMUNISM. Now instead of sitting around being wistful about what a special time it was, I can only try to explain to a stunned audience that yes, my grandmother who purportedly loved me decided the best thing to do with a mouthy, chubby girl already a half a foot taller than everyone else in her class would be TO DRESS HER UP AS A COW.

So this is what it’s come to, huh? This is my life. I’m a thirty year-old woman and I am talking about vajazzling.

Sigh.

My life wasn’t always like this you know. I’m a scholar.

I speak three languages and that’s not even including Latin! I know STUFF.

Like you know whose wang is on the cover of the (uh) seminal Rolling Stones album “Sticky Fingers”with cover art done by Andy Warhol? I DO.

Can you identify all the maple trees found in North America by binomial nomenclature? I CAN.

I know all SORTS of stuff, but NO. I’m here writing about VAJAZZLING because APPARENTLY whatshername, with the orphans and the boobs, got her squirrel all sparkled up and thinks you should do the same.

Ladies.  Seriously.  Why do I even have to SAY super-gluing rhinestones on your shaven haven is a bad idea?

First of all, some things just don’t need decorating.  Like you know how your grandma crocheted toilet paper cozies so instead of having the INDIGNITY of an unadorned roll of Charmin, you had something like this:

HOW? How is that an improvement? Even being a flower of the South, which means I take the exceedingly broad view of hoop skirts and bonnets, this is just infinitely INFINITELY worse!

SECONDLY, unless you’ve got laser hair removal or are on a merciless wax schedule, you’re going to get some  follicular activity happening down there. I personally don’t care how you attend to your lady garden, but that cute little crystal Playboy Bunny is going to turn into “Easter egg hunt at Oilcan Harry’s” in about five to seven days and while a LITERAL Easter egg hunt at Oilcan Harry’s sounds like more fun than a wagon of puppies, a metaphorical one does not.

Also, glue does NOT last forever.

You think it might but I have eyelash extensions and I know the adhesive they use for that. That’s some hard core medical-grade stickum and even then, something occasionally gets loose.  A particularly hot shower and the next thing you know it would be like the The Last Days of Disco all up in your  lady lounge.

It’d be bad enough on your own but what if it your stray sparklies was discovered by a visitor to the area? And those things have edges! Do you REALLY want to be in the emergency room explaining to the admitting nurse that your gentleman’s personal gentleman is all scratched up because of a rogue crotch-crystal? Really? Because if you think you won’t be the talk of the emergency room you have another think coming.

And what if you got pregnant? It’s all fun and games and then nine months later instead of having a normal delivery which is pretty gross anyway, your kid, the fruit of your highly sparkling loins, makes his arrival into this world in a shower of cooch-confetti  like RIP FREAKIN’ TAYLOR.

Is that what you want America? Is it?

Sigh.

…comes the cover of the March issue of Vanity Fair, according to which everyone in “New Hollywood” is a thin white woman:

Whether the problem lies with Hollywood, or with Vanity Fair, or both is up for discussion.

Sources:

Jezebel

Shine

Happy, happy Thanksgiving!

Today we are pricing down, to Fashion Bug, which  sells Misses and Plus size casual-wear and lingerie. At the top of the home page, you can opt to shop according to size, including 16-34, 16-32 short (they couldn’t call it petite? Whatever.), and 16-32 long. (Warning: Short and Long selections are limited.) (Misses sizes start at 6). Their sale page is here.

Today they are having the Thanksgiving Day sale, online only, on all their Fall clothing here.

YES

Francesca had a hard time with the “Yesses” and “Maybes” because her personal idea of “casual” is “suede jacket with boot-cut jeans.” So let us get it out of the way: If you are looking for your basic turtlenecks (on sale today for $6 apiece), polo shirts, jeans, panties, and the like, this is a good place to go. It is a good value for the price.

And now for the slightly more Francesca-esque items. Click for outfit suggestions and/or purchase info:

NO

MAYBE

Dear Purchasers for Large Chain Stores catering to Plus-Size Customers:

Apparel made of velour is not “stylish” and cannot be made so.

It is not a “must-have for fall,” or for any other season.

It certainly is not appropriate for festive holiday celebrations.

It is not the same as velvet, even if it has a “velvety feel.”

Velour is cheap-looking on anyone, and, on large women, reinforces the stereotype that we are sloppy and lazy.

The only people who should be wearing velour are joggers, high-school gym teachers, people going to sleep on a very cold night, and, occasionally, dancers.

That is all.

Love,

Francesca

No

This dress looks pretty in the picture, but trust Francesca, in person it is a No.

No.

No.

It’s that time again. Halloween, when everything comes out of the shadows — ghouls, ghosts, goblins — with narry a plus-size costume in sight that doesn’t involve bare cleavage and thighs.

Francesca does not wish to use this space to bemoan the days of yore, before Halloween became synonymous with slutty costuming. All she will say is that, in her own circles, people win more points for creativity than for T and A, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that is true for most of you, too, oh ye women of taste and class. That’s all she will say.

So, how to go about creating or buying the superfantastic costume?

Search Your Closet. You probably already have the makings of a costume. Want to be Batgirl? Pull on black pants, knee-high boots, and a close-fitting black top, and make a yellow bat to pin to your chest out of satin or even construction paper. Now all you need is a cape and an eyemask and you are done. Vamp up your makeup to complete the look.  Francesca’s best costume ever involved a fedora, wig, sunglasses and trench coat; the trench coat had a Letter O pinned to the inside, which she offered to sell to people (in yet another Sesame Street reference); watches would have worked, too.

Buy a full costume. There are modest ones to be had, if you search hard enough. Buy early because modest, plus-size costumes sell out quickly. Try One Stop Plus,  Plus Size Costume Super Center, Plus Size Costume Fashions, Anytime Costumes, Annie’s Costumes, Halloween Adventure (keep scrolling), and Costume Craze.

If you are Apple-shaped, look for costumes that evoke styles of the Middle Ages or Renaissance, such as this Queen Elizabeth dress or this Tavern Wench costume.

Buy Pieces of a Costume. If you cannot afford a full costume, or cannot find one that suits you, another option is to buy pieces separately to mix and match. Francesca, for example, has purchased a witch hat, wig, cape, false eyelashes — all in blue jewel tones –  and witchlike shoe covers, and will do up her makeup with lots of blue glitter. Who cares what she calls it, she loves blue.

Dorothy Ruby Slippers available at One Stop Plus and other vendors

Here, Francesca urges you to patronize those vendors who  serve the plus-size population year-round:  Torrid.com Plus Sized Halloween Costumes is selling Halloween wings, tiaras, masks, fishnets, makeup, etc. , and One Stop Plus, in addition to full costumes, has wigs, Halloween purses, etc. (Francesca loves the Coffin Clutch)

Sew Your Own or hire a seamstress. Francesca still remembers 7th grade, when Rachelle Lamberte came to our costume party dressed as a perfect replica of Disney’s Snow White, wearing a dress her mother had hand-made for her, complete with the stiff white collar behind her head and the red headband with the bow.  The costume was memorable partly because Rachelle had the exact perfect hair — not a wig, her own, real hairstyle — to go with it, and a perfect figure, and a mother who went to the trouble of making that for her, and the rest of us realized that we could never, ever compete.  Indeed, the next year Rachelle embarked on a romantic relationship with a hot 10th-grader, who delivered flowers to her at her locker once a week. In the contest of life, Rachelle Lamberte was the clear winner . . . until Adrienne Chevalier’s chest, along with Adrienne,  transferred to our school and Rachelle sort of faded into the background.

::blink blink::

Oh, I’m sorry. Francesca got carried away. Ahem. The point is, a costume sewn just for you will be memorable.

One more point:

Don’t mock existing populations of people with your costume. It is one thing to wear old-time styles such as poodle skirts or hoop skirts or tie-dyes, or to dress as aspirational professions such as astronauts, doctors, or firepeople. It is another thing to mock ethnic or religious populations. Rule of thumb: how would someone who actually has that identity feel if you walked by them on the street?

If you think it is all in good fun and Francesca should relax, take a look at this costume and imagine how you would feel if this showed up at your Halloween party. See what I mean? (Thanks, Leah G, for the link.)

Finally, an invitation:

Send us pictures of you in your Halloween costume, for us to post! Send them to Francesca@shoeblogs.com

So you know how sometimes when life gets rilly rilly hard you sometimes secretly have to pull over on the side of the road in the middle of rush hour traffic and cryandcryandcry and wish that JUST ONCE you could go back to the days where the hardest decision you ever had to make was what color carpet square you wanted to use for nap time and whether  your new scissors REALLY “won’t cut hair” BECAUSE NO ONE BREAKS YOUR BURNT SIENNA CRAYON AND LIVES TO TELL THE TALE, HEATHER WEINSTEIN-TAMAGUCHI!

And then you go buy yourself a $200 bottle of Scotch and a $300 pair of shoes and then realize being a grown-up isn’t so bad?

Basically the flipside to having freedom and being taken seriously is the opportunity for a lot of stuff to go wrong, which is why, from a purely political point of view, I am extremely glad Monif C’s new collection exists. They are NOT muu-muus made out of the curtains of some tragic mid-western housewife who has sublimated her Unmet Womanly Needs into a penchant for gingham, kitties and “Country Cute” décor. Because not that very long ago, those were our options.

Now, thanks to independent designers like Monif C –who is a Very Nice Person– that’s no longer the case, and no matter what we feel about individual collections; we should be grateful not to be held under the tyranny of the shapeless corduroy jumper any more.

That being said:

HOLY HAIR HOPPING MOTHER OF GOD THIS IS A MESS.

This isn’t just a hot tranny mess, this is a super-heated tranny mess. This is a tranny mess only reproducible in a controlled scientific environment, after years and years of government funding and Swiss guys in lab coats running around trying to promise everyone that they’re PRETTY SURE they won’t create a black hole and end existence as we know it.

and I’m just going to say it…that is Too Much Weave.

I love big hair as much as the next gal but I’m pretty sure Chaka Khan, Miss Diana Ross and the Mesdames Knowles (Tina, Beyoncé and That Other one), upon being presented with this look would arch their collective eyebrows and say “uh…that’s a little much.”

Now, I am all sorts of down with editorial fashion choices, more so than most of my colleagues in the fatosphere, so I take the broad view of “wearable” and I actually really like the “Lolita” zebra kimono because it’s totally something I would wear when I was 70, lounging by the veranda while some Sweet Young Thing cleaned my pool and I polished my jewelry (those last two may or may not be euphemisms. Hint: they are.)

But the thing about this collection is yes, it’s a mess, but it’s a purposeful mess. It’s tragic in a thoroughly thought-out, committed way and I applaud that. I’m not even sure there aren’t a couple of pieces that couldn’t be de-skanked into something that doesn’t scream “I write off my IUD as a business expense”.

The problem, of course, is much of this collection seems to subscribe to the Beyoncé School of Fashion Technology: too tight, too short, too low, too loud and just too, too much. Too bad.

So think what you will about Monif’s wares, but be thankful it exists.  It means the fashion community can support a plus size designer who has her own vision and that is a good thing, even if this isn’t:

yikes.

One of my favorite websites is the Institute of Official Cheer. Why? Because it’s brimful of terrifying things that make me laugh.

For instance, take the feature Meet the Dayalets. It’s a series of lessons in nutrition for children. I have no idea when this particular abomination surfaced, but here’s an example of what it looks like:

The message may be worthwhile, but the messenger makes me want to run screaming for the proverbial hills.

Seriously, read the feature (complete with delicious, delicious sarcasm provided in generous servings by James Lileks), and then check out some of the other fine features of the site. You can enjoy The Story of Bread with Miss Sunbeam (and commentary by Mr. Lileks),  and a bit of a blast from my past, excepts from the 1973 Sears Fall/Winter catalogue.

Have a laugh. Have several. You’ll thank me later.