I'll be the one in heels

"Really, Bravo."

2010-03-10T07:33:00.001-06:00

I've really developed quite a love-hate relationship with Kell on Earth. (Read previous posts here and here.) I just can't predict how much longer I may endure this television program. Kelly is hard enough on the eyes without us having to suffer through her trip to the sex shop. Really, Bravo.

And as much as I harp on how underqualified the team is at People's Revolution, I felt for Skinner this week. Not because they fired Vorhees and now she has all this extra work piled on her — really honey, get used to that. That's just business as usual these days. No, I felt for her because holy hell! Emily is a HORRIBLE manager! Skinner is young and inexperienced and she she was having a hard time prioritizing all that's being thrown at her. And I was appalled how, rather than being any assistance to her, Emily only compounded the problem.

It seems like what People's Rev needs is to hire people who have more specific skill sets: an office manager, to handle paperwork, billing, broken printers; a PR manager, to oversee the actual media pitching and PR work; an account services manager, to manage the client relationships. It just seems so unorganized up in there, with bodies being thrown at work with no rhyme nor reason to the process.

And I just don't know what else I can say about that.

Oscars 2010: And the winner is...

2010-03-09T07:36:00.002-06:00

Was it just me, or did it seem there was more to boo than applaud at the Oscars Red Carpet this year? For instance, I did not like these cinnamon rolls that were grabbing Charlize Theron's boobs.

I did not like the plastic Hawaiian leis that were attached to the bottom of Zoe Saldana's dress.

I did not like that Miley Cyrus looked like a 40-year-old cougar trying to sneak into her boyfriend Bobby Ray's high school prom.

Or that the child is either completely unable to — or simply refuses to — stand up straight.

Although if she'd thrown her shoulders back, her boobs probably would have popped right out of that dress. So my bad. Slouch on, Cougar-lady.

I did not like the fact that Mariah Carey tried to make us all feel better about her dress's eternal slit by assuring us that she was wearing a body suit underneath.

Here's a hint, Mimi: Underwear should be worn, but not seen. Also, START DRESSING LIKE THE 40-SOMETHING THAT YOU ARE.

I didn't like that SJP's dress looked like one of those shower curtains that encircles an entire shower when you live in a tiny little efficiency in NYC and don't have a separate bathroom.

Also, from this angle, she's kinda starting to look like that lady who had so much plastic surgery that she turned into a cat lady.

I do not, as a rule, care for flesh-colored dresses, because I think you may as well hide behind a plant and yell, "DON'T LOOK AT ME!!"

That goes for you, too, Ms. Moore.

Also, I didn't like what this dress was doing to her boobs.

I definitely did not like this wedding cake that J. Lo was wearing:

especially since Amanda Seyfried did Armani Prive SO much better:

I'm not impossible to please, though. I did like Kathryn Bigelow in YSL:

FIFTY-EIGHT, BITCHES! Can we get a close up of that?

Yep. This woman can officially do no wrong in my book.

I did not hate Carey Mulligan in Prada, even though a lot of people are kind of hating on her today, mostly due to her unfortunate shoe selection:

But I don't know. I didn't hate them with the dress. I know I should. But I just don't. I'm feeling generous today.

I FREAKING LOVED Gabourey Sidibe in Marchesa:

partly because honey, she WORE that gown. This is a classic example of how a woman can look like a million bucks no matter her size. She selected a style that fit her beautifully and a color that looked amazing on her and then she worked it out. I love this girl.

I'm loving Meryl Streep in some Chris March (again).

Love the draping. Love the white on the red carpet. Love how she looks so put together. I believe she has found herself a designer, ya'll.

I love how Queen Latifah never lets us down, and always lives up to her name, this time in Badgley Mischka.

Likewise, Dame Helen Mirren.

There is nothing you can name...

And as horrifying as some of these dresses were, my Worst Dressed has to go to Diane Kruger:

Sometimes you look at a gown and you just say, "What...the...hell...?" I have no idea what all is going on here, but I know I don't like it. And who wears their hair like that TO THE OSCARS??

My Best Dressed, I'm going with Amanda Seyfried.

I liked the silvery-blue color. I liked the straight-across bodice. I like that it felt just dressy enough for the occasion. That it was also age appropriate. I liked that the skirt was full and ball-gown-y without being overwhelming, like it was swallowing her. Well done, Mamma Mia girl. Well done.

I know I left out Sandy. I KNOW. I hesitate to address this one because I don't think my opinion is going to be very popular. Also because I couldn't figure out where it fit in my likes and dislikes continuum. Here's the thing: I thought Sandy looked very pretty. (Although I didn't like her fuschia lipstick, as has already been established.)

I thought her hair looked very shiny, if a little plain. And I thought the dress was AMAZING. On a 55-year-old woman. It just felt too old to me.

I read where someone wrote that Sandy wore the perfect "Hi, I'm here to pick up my Oscar" dress. And that's true. But they also called it a SAFE choice. And it was. Yes, it looked beautiful on her. Yes, it was far better than some of the things we've seen her in. Did it knock my socks off? No.

Hi, while I have you all here, can I just take this moment to direct you to my brand new fashion blog. It's called No Excuses Fashion and I started it because I wanted a spot where I could solely discuss fashion and style but I also wanted to keep my personal blog, so. There you go. Please excuse the kind of boring template-y design until I get up and running a bit more and then you'll find (I suspect) that the new blog looks suspiciously similar to this one. Anyway, please add me to your reader. Thanks. X

"I see her every time I leave my house."

2010-03-08T14:51:00.010-06:00

I know I've talked about this before, but after last night's Oscars, I feel compelled to bring it up again.

First, look. I love Sandra Bullock. I do. Truly. Hope Floats is one of my all-time faves. ("I have one word for you people: POLAROIDS.") I'm not against Sandy winning an Oscar. I just didn't think this was the winning performance. And I liked The Blind Side. I thought the script was decent and there were some above-average performances. Maybe even Sandy's.

But I gotta tell you, that move is VERY controversial here in Memphis. Black folks don't like it because of the "white savior" storyline. And everyone else is just highly suspicious of the Tuohy's. Regardless of its actual size, Memphis is very small-town, especially out here in the suburbs where both myself and the Tuohy's live. You can't go get your roots done without getting the low-down on Leigh Anne Tuohy because your stylist also does the hair of a girl who used to cheer with her in high school. Memphians — probably UT Vols fans who are still pissed Michael Oher went to Ole Miss — say that he signed his $4 million NFL sign-on bonus over to the family. The football coach at your son's public school tells his English class that the Tuohy's now have the number one basketball player in the state, a black kid from R-------- High School, living with them. Who knows what to believe any more?

Not to mention, people here are kinda pissed that the movie was filmed in Atlanta. Apparently, no one from Memphis had anything to do with the production, because there were a lot of things about the film that were decidedly un-Memphis, from the language to the scene where Leigh Anne threatened to shoot the gang-banger. In real life, if a Germantown Housewife walked up in Hurt Village and threatened a gangster, she would have ended up the lead story on the evening news. And not in a good way.

And that was the character Sandy played: A Germantown Housewife. They're famous around these parts. When I first moved to Memphis in the mid-80s, the morning radio show used to regularly do Germantown Housewife jokes. Maybe they still do; I don't know because I don't listen to the same station I did when I was 20.

A Germantown Housewife has blond highlights and professionally waxed eye brows. She drives a big ole SUV (which she drives like she owns the damn road) and wears big ole Channel sun glasses. She doesn't work outside the home. She lunches with friends and carpools her kids to private schools. Her family is new money and can't quite afford the really elite neighborhoods in True East Memphis, so they settle in the east suburbs, after which she is named. She's an SEC fan, because she wouldn't dream of supporting an urban school like the University of Memphis. She is Leigh Anne Tuohy.

And I see her every time I leave my house.

Not...Leigh Anne. But her. The Germantown Housewife. She's a fact of life where I live. Common as the day is long.

Which brings us back to why Sandy's performance didn't impress me much. Because the character is so COMMON to me. Hell, I could play her. God knows I'm familiar enough with her. And she's not hard to portray. She's not deep. She's not complex. Quite the opposite.

Am I happy for Sandy? Of course I am. I loved her speech. I loved how happy Jesse was for her. I would've selected a different lipstick, but that's another post altogether.

Wonder

2010-03-05T14:34:00.002-06:00

"I often think of six impossible things before breakfast.

Potion makes you shrink.
Cake makes you grow.
Animals can talk.
Cats can disappear.
There is a place called Wonderland.
And I can slay the jabberwocky."

"E was not to be deterred."

2010-03-04T08:31:00.000-06:00

Everyone's got a sports team horror story, don't they? Usually it's the parents. Sometimes it's the coach. Ours tonight was the players themselves. And their fans. OMG, their fans.

We played for the league championship tonight. Elijah's never won a title game in basketball. We played for the title last year. If you remember, our opponent actually lost their qualifying game, but protested on the grounds that the team they lost to was playing ringers. Then they turned around and beat us in the championship BY DOING THE SAME THING! So that was kind of frustrating.

This year we played a team that we had a lot of trouble out of when we played them in the regular season. One player in particular — the smallest player on their team — had a real attitude problem. So none of us were very excited to see that this was who we were playing for the title.

Their team, the MadDogs, packed the stands with a bunch of really loud high school kids. Loud. Rude. Disrespectful. They mocked our players. They mocked our coaches. They mocked the refs. They even mocked the league representative who was there. They yelled Godzilla slurs at our Asian player. They barked when we shot free throws. Their players got two technicals. They nearly started two fights which, oddly, didn't result in technicals.

We were up by one at the half. I thought I would throw up. Some of our moms got in a shouting match with some of their fans (the kids, not their parents, who were actually pretty respectable, relatively speaking). My philosophy is to ignore that kind of behavior. People like that only get egged on by your reaction. And the last thing I wanted was some kind of altercation in the parking lot after the game.

The second half got pretty awesome. We went up by six, by eight, by ten. The further ahead we got, the uglier their crowd got. With a minute and a half left, the MadDogs down by nine, the league representative stood up and quieted the crowd and told them it all had to STOP. One of the girls yelled out something about, "Tell it to both sides then!" Which, first of all, that's precisely why I was telling our group NOT to respond to their bad behavior. And secondly, really? You're gonna yell back at the league guy? You stay classy, MadDogs.

They started fouling, as is the practice of a losing team at the end of the game. They fouled Elijah, he stepped to the foul line to shoot. One of their fangirls yelled something about him being "Will Ferrell" (a Semi-Pro reference). E was not to be deterred. He made his shot, then turned around and blew a kiss to the girl. It was the MOST AWESOME THING EVER.

I call this photo CHAMPIONS.

"We sold the Benzo."

2010-03-03T07:52:00.000-06:00

Elsewhere today: Read my No Excuses Fashion post, Why Are You Wearing Tennis Shoes in Public?

********

I got rid of my Mercedes. That is, we sold the Benzo.

I had gotten the car just before my 40th birthday. I had on my list that I wanted a convertible, and this was an amazing one. I enjoyed the hell out of it for several years but it was time to let her go.

First of all, the up-keep on that thing was murder! I took it in for a brake job and ended up spending a thousand dollars. The parts alone were ridiculously expensive. Secondly, my days of needing to be flashy and conspicuous are behind me. And thirdly, that car was never all that comfortable. Every time I rode in it I ended up with a back ache.

But the real reason it was time to unload the car is because I've given up working a full-time job in lieu of chasing a dream. Sounds crazy, right? Well, maybe it is. But dreams can't come true if you don't pursue them. And no one is ever going to knock on my door and ask me if I want to be a writer. The only way I can live out my dream of being a writer is to be one. So that's what I'm doing.

So there wasn't really any sense in owning three cars, given that two of us are now working from home and rarely leave the house. And mine was easily the most expensive of our vehicles. It was actually my idea to get rid of it. Chip kept asking me, "Are you okay with this? You're sure you want to do this?" Hmm...let's see...Given the choice between driving a Mercedes convertible or staying at home to pursue my life's dream of becoming a writer, I gotta go with the opportunity to write every time.

At least this time.

Cross-dressing the Part

2010-03-01T21:48:00.000-06:00

An actual letter from an actual reader:

Hi,

I have been wearing high heels, short skirts, dresses, blouses, chiffon tops, etc., which are all fine but since I am a guy, I guess that is just weird!

I am planning in telling my girlfriend but I want to look my best. What do you recommend, and no, I'm not wearing my male clothes to do it.

I want her to see me as the cross dresser that I am. She will probably finish with me but I still want to look my best, as I love the clothes more than her so its only fair to her to be totally honest with her.

By the way, I'm not gay, not even the slightest bit. I like female company but love the clothes.

What do you recommend?
J.

Well J., this is quite the dilemma for you, isn't it? On one hand, you want your girlfriend to see how fabulous you look in a skirt and heels. But on the other hand, if you look hotter in a dress than she does, that literally adds insult to her injury, doesn't it?

But I suppose if you're going to do it, you gotta do it right. And looking fabulous is my specialty, so you've come to the right place.

J. specified that his favorite pieces are pencil skirts and chiffon blouses. Pencil skirts are almost universally flattering. My favorite way to wear them is with a peplum jacket.

This suit from Pink Tartan may be a bit more buttoned-up than J. is looking for. Here's another option, from Victoria's Secret:

Although it obviously needs a blouse. I recommend something in a vibrant color, with ruffles. Finish off the look with a pair of sexy sling-backs.

All this can definitely be a flattering look, but I'm not sure I would call it fabulous. It's a little business-like, no? I think you really need to kick it up for this auspicious occasion. I'm thinking DRESS. Like this cowl-necked dress from Banana:

which is really feminine and flattering but needs a belt around that elasticized waist. Or this watercolor wrap dress:

which is soft and flowy and lengthening and come to think of it, would be really cute on me. Wear with the dresses a pair of kick-ass pumps.

Now J., we need to talk about your legs. I understand that men who enjoy wearing women's clothes tend to especially enjoy outdated and uncomfortable underthings. Now, I don't want to deprive you the joy of garters and stockings and such but we need to lay down some ground rules here.

First, bare legs are preferable to nude hose. No one wears nude hose. I personally never wear any hose. Tights in the winter - okay, but I really despise hose. Second, stockings over hairy legs is a most unattractive look. I can't sign off on that at all. If you are opposed to shaving your legs then I have to recommend you go bare or stick with opaque tights.

Lastly, I don't know where you stand on jewelry, J., but let's not forget that the only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize. So pick out some long necklaces, or a cuff bracelet or some chandelier earrings to make sure your look is finished off.

So you're all set then. Best of luck to you. I hope your girlfriend is understanding about your interest in pretty clothes. Please let us know how it goes.

"I'm completely infatuated with Canada."

2010-03-01T07:50:00.002-06:00

I have been an Olympics junkie since I saw Olga Korbut on the balance beam in 1972. I was six years old and I wore my hair in "olgas" for the entirety of first grade.

I will watch pretty much any sport if there's an Olympic medal at stake. I never miss an opening or closing ceremony. I even have on my "bucket list" to attend an Olympic opening ceremony before I die.

But never, in all my years of watching Olympics, do I remember falling in love with the host country like I have this year. Which, in all fairness, I've wanted for a long time to visit Vancouver — preferably in the summertime — but I don't think that was the appeal, given that I didn't really see much of the area during the Olympics coverage. (The crappy way NBC covered it, I was lucky to see much Olympics during the Olympics coverage.)

The appeal starts with the national anthem. We've all known for quite some time that O Canada is a kick-ass national anthem. But until you've witnessed a crowd of thousands, so proud of their homeland that they belt it out together, sometimes COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED, then I don't think you've felt the full impact of O Canada. I can now add it to the list of national anthems I know by heart (ours, natch, plus England's; I'm still working on France's.), simply because I, too, want to join in on the belting out of it.

I was actually kinda hoping Canada would win the hockey game so I could hear the anthem one last time before the Olympics closed. I'm sorry if I cursed the US team because really, that was pretty darn cool when they scored that tying goal with 24 seconds left. I felt said for Ryan Miller but don't think I didn't crank up the television during the medal ceremony and belt out O Canada with 19 thousand other joyous fans. Granted, they were celebrating the gold; I was just thrilled to be singing along.

There's plenty of other things to love about Canada, from the French speakers (come on, it's easily the most beautiful language on earth), to the Queen's representative, to...well...Redneck Mommy. I love how they love to own sports like hockey and curling that are so foreign to us southern girls. I love how laid back and cool the Canadians all are. I love that sweet and courageous Joannie Rochette.

So when @thoscarpenter twittered "I will never forgive my parents for not being Canadian." I totally got where he was coming from. I don't mean it to sound unpatriotic or like I don't love my own country, but I'm completely infatuated with Canada.

Although, we have Shaun White. So there's that.

Fan Club

2010-02-26T08:13:00.001-06:00

One night about a year ago, my husband Chip came home with a box fan. I think he and Elijah had been hanging out at Wal Mart, checking out the sale aisle for odd or amusing things they could purchase. And they came home with a box fan. I know, right? A box fan.

Box fans make me think of high school. I went to school in Mississippi, back in the day before we had air conditioning. We had box fans. Some were more industrial than others, but mostly they were plain old box fans. Usually one in the front of the classroom and one in the back. It was 95 degrees with 90 percent humidity and can I just add that WE WERE NOT ALLOWED TO WEAR SHORTS. I suffered through it in jeans that were entirely too tight and had to literally be peeled off my legs when I arrived home. So that's what box fans mean to me.

But box fans represent something else to Chip: White Noise. He put that box fan right next to his head on his side of the bed and turned it on high at bedtime. It sounded like this: VVRRRROOOOOOOMMM. Like trying to sleep inside an airplane hangar. Chip loved it. He was snoring inside of a minute. I learned to live with it. I used to not be able to go to sleep without the tv on — I need something to concentrate on, otherwise my brain continually writes. Constant writing writing writing in my head. I found that if I concentrated on the fan it worked like listening to tv. Anyway, listening to tv was out given the AIRPLANE PROPELLERS SPINNING IN MY BEDROOM.

One day I took the box fan out to the second-floor landing in our house. I hoped to use it to circulate the warm air that rises from downstairs and hangs over the loft, right by the thermostat, keeping the upstairs heat from ever running. The box fan actually helped quite a bit. At night, Chip would bring it back in next to the bed.

Then one day he came home with another fan. He didn't come right out and say it, but this action had a very obvious meaning: "That is MY fan. Here is your fan. You can have this one. Don't take MINE."

For a while we ran both fans — the one on the landing and the one in the bedroom — until life got a bit stressful for Chip recently. Worried about health care reform or the jobless rate or something, who knows. I've never known him to get as worked up as he has been lately. You wouldn't know it to look at him. But now he's got BOTH FANS next to the bed. If it was like sleeping in an airplane hangar before, this is like sleeping next to the space shuttle. If it were run by propellers.

"His life appears to be one giant spring break trip."

2010-02-25T08:15:00.000-06:00

I am completely intrigued by finding people on facebook that I went to high school with 25 years ago. Sometimes people are exactly as you expect them to be. Sometimes they surprise you. And occasionally, they provide an endless source of entertainment.

In my facebook friends, it's Daniel. He was always outgoing and friendly in school. Not my type, but I guess some thought he was cute. Relatively popular, I guess. If he got elected to anything it was probably Class Favorite or something.

So what the hell happened to him? When exactly did he turn into "Crazy Dan"?

No, he doesn't have his own car dealership or furniture store. In fact, I'm not sure he has a job at all. To look at his facebook photos, his life appears to be one giant spring break trip. Every photo is on a boat, at the beach or slamming shots in a bar.

I grew up in a coastal town and there are plenty of people my age with boats. Mostly, they're kind of fat and happy, kicked back in a captains chair with a can of Budweiser, teaching their kid how to fish. Crazy Dan, on the other hand, has no family in his photos. What he has are a lot of girls 20 years younger than him in bikinis.

Seriously, are these girls even old enough to drink? One of them has pink hair.

Crazy Dan only has one photo album. It's called "Crazy Dan's Excellent Adventures." There are jello shots. Peace signs. Winks & finger guns. The girls apparently own no clothes since they are only ever wearing bikinis, even inside of bars. Crazy Dan is perpetually tan.

To break up the monotony, Crazy Dan occasionally hits a toga party. In costume. Because what's a toga party without a 45-year-old man wrapped in a sheet?

I'll give him this — his life seems happy, judging by all the sticking-his-tongue-out pictures. I mean, that is the universal sign of someone who's deliriously happy, right?

Party on, dude. Or be excellent to each other, or something.

"If I were Virginia, I'd be PISSED."

2010-02-24T08:05:00.003-06:00

Elsewhere today: The Five Must-Haves for Spring

********

Okay, can we talk about social media and People's Revolution for a minute?

If you haven't seen this week's episode yet, Andrew M. hires a girl named Virginia as an assistant. As soon as she leaves the office, Skinner finds that Virginia has tweeted that she got a job at People's Rev and Skinner freaks the fuck out. "WE DO NOT BLOG." She calls Virginia and tells her to forget the job offer. Something about dealing with important clients and can't be chattering about it on twitter and blah blah blah.

Thing the First
You are a PUBLIC RELATIONS AGENCY. You should not be afraid of social media. You should be using every form of new media available to you. Both for your clients and for your own firm. And you should be looking for employees who are new-media savvy, not running them off.

Thing the Second
I find it HIGHLY hypocritical (I think we all do) that Virginia's job offer was rescended on account of her twittering, when Skinner, Andrew M, even Kelly herself all actively tweet. I don't know if the policy has changed from the time the show was filmed to to the time that it aired, or if perhaps the policy is selectively applied, but either way, if I were Virginia, I'd be PISSED.

Thing the Third
"WE DON'T BLOG." Skinner insisted. But, in fact...they do. Every single one of them. And I gotta tell you — it's some of the worst writing I've ever read. Chock full of grammatical mistakes, incomplete thoughts and OMG the exclamation points — classic mark of a weak writer. Several great examples:

"some lack attention to detail and others just plainly don't care."
"People need to take responsibility for their own actions and not do things to jeopardize there jobs"
"It seems people have this heir of being over-privileged"
"When I started I was basically what all of the staff are calling slaves in this episode as well"

How does one conduct public relations without being able to WRITE? I would LOVE to see some of the news releases that come out of that office.

Thing the Last
For a company that pretended on television to be so concerned about confidentiality, Kelly blogs about employee information so confidential that it borders on illegal. The pay rate of former employees, details of why someone is fired. I guess when your company does a reality television show, you sign away all rights to confidentiality. Because if a former employer of mine posted how much I made or restitution they had to make because of a mistake I was fired for, I can assure you I would be filing a law suit. So, so inappropriate. Any respect I had for Kelly's professional abilities have been completely undermined by her impertinent ramblings online.

"Somone got fired, and it wasn't Vorhees."

2010-02-23T08:03:00.000-06:00

Okay, first. I KNOW that Stefanie Skinner and Stephanie Vorhees are two different people. I don't know why anyone should have been confused about that in my previous post. But apparently a lot of people were. Including Stefanie Skinner herself, who twittered me directly about it.

What I did get wrong is Vorhees title. She is, in fact, as Anon 2:58 pointed out, an ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE and not an intern. Which totally confuses me. Not just because she's completely incompetent, but because Jr. Exec Skinner has consistently come across as her supervisor. So there's yet another WTF for People's Rev. Perhaps if you're a drinker, you can make a drinking game of this. Every time I say WTF, you take a shot.

This week, Kelly took a helicopter to an event because it was several hours away and she didn't have time to waste in a car. She took her writer with her to work on her book in the helicopter. She said, "My book is called If you have to cry, go outside, and other things your mother never told you. It's a no bullshit how-to book for empowering young women, like the girls we raise at People's Revolution."

To which I say HA!

I mean, I know that Kelly's the published author and the agency owner, but is she really under the impression that she and her partners are mentoring young girls? Because from what I've seen, they do very little coaching or teaching. They don't even attempt to work with a staff member to improve her performance. They just sit and bitch about her and then fire her. Well done, Madam Manager.

So they go to this out-of-the-city event in the helicopter and they take Vorhees and another girl named Elide (pronounced ah-LEE-duh) who, up til now, has never been named, or even seen on camera, that I know of. And the two young girls spend the event downing cocktails, which pisses off Kelly but again — she doesn't pull them aside and put a stop to it. She lets them do it and she sits to the side and makes snide remarks to no one (the camera, I guess) about "Do people remember why we're here??" Then when they get back to the city, they fire Elide!

Which is a little bizarre, because someone got fired, and it wasn't Vorhees.

WTF? (Drink!)

But when Elide gets fired, Vorhees guesses she's next and, oddly, goes to Emily and says, "I know I'm getting fired, so I'll make a list of stuff I'm working on..." Stupid girl. Next time, try, "I know you want to fire me. Is there any way we can salvage this?"

"Kelly has a reputation for being really particular in hiring people," Andrew M. says, as he's interviewing applicants. Really? Because everyone in this office comes across as supremely underqualified. See also: You just fired two people who were complete fuck-ups. Perhaps the fact that you're letting an assistant who doesn't even know the business yet do your hiring is part of the problem?

If it seems like I've been especially hard on Kelly this week, let me say that I do love how she handled seat crashers at a London fashion show: "Do you have your seat assignments? Are you sure you're in this section? I don't think so, this is the American section. [Looks at assignment] Yeah...these are not your seats, but you probably knew that didn't you? You have to go to the back. These are not your seats. Go to the second row. NOW."

Zing!

"The best thing about me is my niceness."

2010-02-22T08:32:00.000-06:00

When I was in high school, we had a school beauty pageant each year to determine Most Beautiful. The 20 girls who got the most student body votes were elected to be in the pageant. They then walked the stage on a Friday night in their evening gowns and sportswear and a couple of impartial judges who I'm pretty sure had no pageant experience themselves selected Most Beautiful and five Beauties who got their photos in the yearbook.

I remember senior year, my friend Suzanne refused to buy a new evening gown for the pageant. She was in it every year, as well as a homecoming maid, which meant two gowns a year plus Prom, so three gowns really and that's a bit much for anyone who's not getting them for free from the designer. So senior year, Suzanne wrapped a long piece of red jersey around her waist and held it in place with a red sequined tube top. And she won Most Beautiful.

I love that story.

My niece is in middle school — sixth grade — and last fall she was elected to their Homecoming Court. Yes, Homecoming Court. In middle school. I KNOW! And this weekend, she was in her school's beauty pageant. Along with 30 other middleschoolers. Some of whom were definitely not walking in their first pageant.

They introduced the three judges and they were women with extensive background walking in, choreographing and judging pageants. And if you've ever seen that Toddlers & Tiaras show, you know what they were looking for.

Big Hair and Big Dresses. Giant, unflinching smiles. Poise. Grace. Ability to answer a question in a complete sentence (FYI, "Such as." is not one.)

I'm sorry I did not take photos of them all to show you. But they are minors afterall and I don't want their parents suing me.

First they came out, two by two, to introduce themselves. The pageant girls bubbled, "Hello and welcome to the fourth annual Miss L. pageant! My name is Heather Happy and I'm in eighth grade! I hope you have a great time today - I know I am!" The first timers kind of mumbled, "Hey ya'll. I'm Nervous Nichole. I'm in sixth grade."

Then they walked out one-by-one with their escorts, while the emcee (a high school senior) shared more information on each contestant.

"Heather Happy is an honor student. She sings in choir and is on the dance team, where she was named to the All-American team in sixth and seventh grades. She says her favorite class is history, because if you don't know where you've been, you can't know where you're going. She volunteers for Special Olympics and walked in the Race for the Cure, two causes that she cares very much about. She says her role model is her mother, because she is a strong and successful woman. Heather would advise someone entering middle school to set academic goals, be true to herself, and just have fun!"

(All actual contestant responses.)

The best bio was the girl who said her favorite subject is math because "I like being mentally challenged."

(Sarah Palin does not think that's funny.)

After an intermission to tabulate the judges' results, the Top 10 was announced. Only there were 12 of them because apparently we had some ties. Miss L. 2009 then came out for her final walk. She was wearing a short, red gown that looked like it could have doubled as an Olympic figure skating costume or a Nutcracker tutu. Her hair was in an updo so high that I'm quite sure even the best pageant mom couldn't have done it at home. A big old tiara poked out of the pillow top. She held the fishbowl with the questions in it as the Top 12 had their interview portion.

Q: "Who is your best friend, and why?"
A: "I don't really have a best friend. I have lots of friends that I like to hang out with."

Q: "If we were to go to your bedroom right now, what's the most embarrassing thing we would find?"
A: "The most embarrassing thing you would find in my bedroom is probably clothes all over the floor."

Q: "What's the best thing about you?"
A: "I think the best thing about me is my niceness because everybody likes me."

Q: "Should girls your age be allowed to date?"
A: "Yes, girls my age should be allowed to date, but only in groups like double dates because that would prepare us for dating."

(Actual questions and answers.)

In the end, they awarded a silver tray to Most Photogenic, which I'm kind of confused by because as far as I know, no professional photos were taken of the contestants. About seven framed photos sat on a table by the gymnasium door, so I'm guessing if you had a headshot you could bring it and be in the running for Most Photogenic. Then they awarded the one fat girl in the pageant Miss Congeniality and I'm not even kidding. Because everything about this pageant was just ONE GIANT STEREOTYPE.

They announced the four alternates — I'm assuming that if Miss L. 2010 is an eighth grader, and she doesn't want to come back next year to crown Miss L. 2011 because she's a high and mighty highscooler by then, the first runner-up will have the very important job of stepping in given that the winner is unable to fulfill her duties as Miss L.

The girl who won wore a gigantic white dress and had her long, dark hair piled high but also cascading long. You're shocked, I know. My niece picked up a flier at the event and has decided she wants to enter the Miss Junior Miss Mississippi County pageant. I desperately hope she asks me to help with her look, her walk, her interview questions. I have an inner-pageant mom that's just DYING to get out now.

I WENT TO MARDI GRAS AND CAME HOME WITH A TATTOO!!

2010-02-16T14:57:00.000-06:00

Yes, I did. But it wasn't all drunken debauchery the way it sounds.

The truth is, I've wanted a tattoo for 20 years, I've just never been able to come up with a design that I would want permanently inked to my body. Then the Saints won the Superbowl, and I read how the tattoo joints in NOLA were packed with people wanting fleur-de-lis tattoos to mark the occasion. And I was all, "THAT'S IT!! THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!"

Because it's a classy symbol, and it represents not only my beloved Saints and their historic victory, but also New Orleans, a town that I love with all my heart. It was absolutely perfect.

So I called a friend of mine from high school. Michael has been a tattoo artist for years now in Chicago and back on the coast where we grew up. And we made a date for Saturday night when I'd be in town for Mardi Gras.

Not everyone was convinced I would actually go through with it. Around 6 Saturday evening, Michael posted as his facebook status: "...is wondering if Kalisa will actually go through with her plan...?"

But I knew I was going through with it. Once I'd made my decision, it was a done deal for me. Around 7, my brother dropped me off.

Like LA Ink, Mississippi Gulf Coast style.

The place was like a total hardcore, heavy metal tattoo joint. I walked in with my pink and white Land's End bag and showed Michael a picture of my Superbowl cake as a model.

In all Michael's years of inking people, this was probably the first time
someone brought a photo of a cake and said, "I want this."

The first step was to apply the stencil and make sure I liked the design as well as the placement of it.

I was all, "That was easy! It didn't hurt at all!" like I was the
first person to ever make that joke.

Then Michael went to work.

And oh my holy hell did it ever hurt. Sali Hughes assured me that if I've had a Brazilian wax or experienced natural childbirth that the tattoo would be "tea in the park." (She's British.) And I've done both. So I thought I'd be all good.

I was not "all good."

I call this "The Silent Scream."

I may have actually been screaming out loud, but the Metallica was so freaking loud no one would have heard me anyway. FTR, Sali is a fucking liar. It hurt a whole heck of a lot more than any old Brazilian wax. Probably not worse than drug-free childbirth, though. Like both waxing and giving birth, the pain comes in spurts. Michael would work for 10 seconds or so, then stop to wipe away the ink (and blood) and you get a second to breathe. Then it starts up again. So it's bearable. And, like childbirth, when it's over, you have this wonderful new baby that you just love so much that you forget about the pain you went through to get it.

Please make it stop!!

My friend Debbie came up to support me and take photos of me and to drive me home. She's a true friend, that one.

Here she's enjoying a song about I've got crabs, I've got lice, So what?

The good news is that the whole thing only took 30 minutes, which is admittedly a damn sight better than childbirth. Then Michael bandaged me up and we were out of there.

I wouldn't let Debbie take a photo of the finished product before he
covered it because it was STILL BLEEDING.

After I left, Michael changed his facebook status to say, "Doesn't wonder about Kalisa any more. She is hard core."

Then Debbie drove me to Dairy Queen for an m&m blizzard. The whole time I was yelling in her car because my ears were ringing from the Metallica. It's the closest she'll ever come to holding my hair back while I throw up. Thank you, Debbie.

After two hours, I could take the covering off and take some photos.

Ignore how bizarre my feet look. I was trying to position myself
to get a good shot in the hotel mirror.

I am so bad ass.

Alexander McQueen, 1969-2010

2010-02-11T10:27:00.018-06:00

The fashion world has lost a true inspiration. Alexander McQueen is dead at the age of 40.

He was one of the edgiest designers around.

And a darling of fashion-forward celebs

Alexander McQueen took his own life.

Proving once again that the most creative minds often belong to the most tortured souls.

It is truly our loss.

I hope he now has peace.

Godspeed, Alexander McQueen.

Alexander McQueen, 1969-2010

"Who would really do that and still have a job??"

2010-02-09T15:04:00.002-06:00

I watched the second episode of Kell on Earth last night, and I'm still loving it, but I also find it unbelievably frustrating to watch sometimes. I guess that's just a trademark of reality television that can't be avoided. Also why I typically don't watch reality television.

The agency staff consists of principle Kelly, two partners (Emily and Robyn), Kelly's assistant Andrew, her former assistant now Junior Executive Stefanie Skinner, and a handful of interns. And everyone who falls below the partners on the org chart come off as completely unqualified. Makes you wonder how People's Revolution could be so successful.

Last week ended with a cliffhanger in preparations for the Chado Ralph Rucci show when Skinner couldn't get the seating chart to print. Seriously? Printer problems?? You don't even have to be in public relations to have had printer problems when trying to meet a deadline. This is the sort of issue that people deal with all the time, and we don't solve it by CRYING. This is why I commented last week that Skinner was SO not a problem solver.

Backing up a bit further, the other blond Stephanie, an intern named Stephanie Voorhes, had already fucked up the seating chart by not checking the RSVP voicemail. Again, SERIOUSLY? How hard it that? So they had all these RSVPs that they were unaware of. So Kelly got pissed and told her assistant Andrew that he was now in charge of checking RSVPs for the Chado show. And he did. And he put them all on the list TWICE.

And the frustrating part of watching this show is when they do the interviews and they make excuses like, "What do I know? I'm new." Really? You're going with that? Because I'm pretty sure even someone who's new knows not to put people's names on the list TWICE. New York must be FULL of qualified people who would kill to have these jobs.

So the list is fucked up and then at the last minute it wouldn't print. End ep 1. Start ep 2: the partners step in, as per usual, to fix things and the list ends up going to the show half-printed and half-hand-written. There's some professionalism for ya.

Fastforward and...the show is a disaster. No, I take that back. The show is good. The media coverage is good. But the seating is a disaster. There are mobs of people at the front trying to get in and blocking the people who actually have invites and seating assignments from reaching the door. So that's a problem but I find it hard to believe that this is more of a problem at Chado Ralph Rucci than it is at, say, Marc Jacobs, or the Project Runway show. But that caused the show to start very late, which is never a good thing, because then your media that's there gets annoyed and decides to leave to hit another Fashion Week show that is actually on time.

Secondly, the people that were allowed in were either seated in the wrong places or moved around to seats that weren't theirs. Then Kelly had to come in and throw her weight around and tell people to move. Which apparently pissed off a lot of people because after the show, the client fired People's Revolution. And Kelly felt it was because of something outside their control — the crush of people at the front door — but it was apparent to me that everything that went wrong was a direct result of something they fucked up.

So they turn their attentions to their next Fashion Week show — Genetic Denim, who's doing an installation rather than a runway show. (This is where the models are "installed" into show-window-type poses and people walk through the rooms to see them and photograph them.) They should be good at this, right? No seating charts.

To invite the media, Kelly is sending editors' gifts. Now this is a very common PR tactic. We all do it. When we opened a new cafeteria at St. Jude, we sent cookies. We put them in the little to-go aluminum pans and printed the cardboard tops to look like a cocktail napkin with coffee stains, and the Who, When, Where info scribbled on it. It was very cute. So they're sending some jeans or something, right? And Kelly comes in and there are rows and rows of plain white gift bags (not even glossy) with names, titles and affiliation SCRAWLED ON THE SIDE IN BLACK SHARPIE and a pair of jeans thrown in. No tissue paper, no tags, no catchy design.

This has to be made up for TV, right? Who would really do that? More importantly, who would really do that and still have a job?

And again, with the excuses, this time by Skinner: "No one gave me any direction." To which Kelly's reaction was, "From now on, no one makes any decisions about my company but me." And that's unfortunate, because she could have used this as a teaching opportunity to explain to the moronic interns how to prepare proper editors' gifts. I wouldn't have thought that someone with an actual job in PR would need that explained to them, but there you go.

God, there's a lot of italics in this post.

******************************

Okay, pop quiz:

1. You've been asked to mail invitations for your clients show. The envelopes are square but not oversized. The only stamps you see are 62-cent stamps. You:

a. Look for the 44-cent stamps.
b. Ask someone else in the office if they have or have seen 44-cent stamps.
c. Go buy some 44-cent stamps if you have to.
d. Just use the 62-cent stamps because who cares.

2. You've been caught by one of the partners using 62-cent stamps inappropriately. She tells you to peel them off and replace them. You:

a. Look for the 44-cent stamps.
b. Ask someone else in the office if they have or have seen 44-cent stamps.
c. Go buy some 44-cent stamps if you have to.
d. Call the junior exec while she's getting her roots done to ask where the stamps are because this is all just entirely too much work.

3. You've delegated the job of intern scheduling to an intern under you. Once you do this, you:

a. Follow up with said intern to determine that the job is being done.
b. Check with said intern occasionally to ensure she can handle the assignment.
c. Ask said intern for a copy of the schedule she created.
d. Never worry about it again because it's no longer your problem and you have your own job to do.

SCORING: If you answered a, b, or c, you may be ready for a job in public relations. If you answered d, you may be ready for a job at People's Revolution.

UPDATE: Stefanie Skinner sent me a tweet saying that I'd confused her & Voorhees on my blog. "BIG mistake," she said, all Pretty-Woman style. And so I repeat: What I said is "the OTHER blond Stephanie," which clearly indicates that there are TWO of them. I even indicate that one is an intern (Voorhees) and the other is a Jr. Exec (Skinner) so I'm not sure what is confusing about this post. Her "BIG mistake" comment leads me to believe that some sort of doom is coming to Voorhees, though. A firing maybe?

"We never stopped believing."

2010-02-08T00:14:00.009-06:00

I know, right?? A girl who loves football. But my dad lived his whole life in Washington, DC, and I knew how to sing "Hail to the Redskins" before I knew "Jesus Loves Me." Then we moved to the Gulf Coast when I was 11. But I didn't take to the Saints right away. Probably because they sucked. People called them the Ain'ts and fans literally wore paper bags on their heads to the games. Embarrassed to be seen as an Ain'ts fan.

But then in high school, I met Shelley. And Shelley was a Saints fan. And she personified true fan devotion. And I was kinda into that. Plus, the Saints kicker was really cute. And believe me, when your team never scores touchdowns, you kick A LOT of field goals. And you get really GOOD at kicking field goals, too.

My senior year, the Saints went 7-9. For my graduation gift, Shelley recreated a win over the Falcons by a field goal in the last second.

It was a time when Saints fans could get excited simply because WE HAD WON A GAME.

The picture is faded but I've held onto it all these years. It holds a special place in my heart. Or maybe I was just waiting for something else that Saints fans could be excited about.

Which explains why I cried like a baby when the Saints won the NFC Championship game and thus a trip to the Superbowl. It seemed like a DREAM. Could this be REAL?

I told my husband several weeks back that if the Saints went to the Superbowl, I was definitely having a Superbowl party. My aunt (from Louisiana) drove three hours from her home in Arkansas. A former co-worker of mine who grew up in NOLA came with her husband and adorable three teenage Saints girls!! I ordered a trophy cake:

It was an amazing party, because it was an amazing game. And we all were so invested in the outcome! So we sat glued to the screen like bugs to a light. We screamed. We clapped. We jumped up and down.

And in the end, we cried. We hugged. We asked, "Can this be real?" I was afraid, like a bad episode of "Dallas," I would wake up to find the entire season was a dream. Can this even be POSSIBLE??

Shelley wasn't here with us because she lives in Europe. She watched online and corresponded with her old high school pals on twitter and facebook. She skyped with her mom at their Superbowl party.

I posted a photo of the 1984 drawing and sent Shelley the message "I think I need another picture now, 26 years later!" At first, Shelley didn't remember it. Now an artist, she had actually forgotten that she had already started drawing in high school. But the recognition of what it was — combined with the realization that I still HAD IT — sent tears flowing again, flowing all the way across an ocean.

Shelley's the reason I became a Saints fan in the first place, some 30 years ago. We've been through a lot of bad years, us Saints faithful. But we never stopped believing.

People around the country see the Saints as a symbol 0f a region that has seen the lowest lows. Saints football is like a religion on the Gulf Coast. It's not about Katrina. Loving the Saints is about a way of life. It's best articulated by the now-famous chant, "Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?" We can't explain it to you any better than that. We can't explain it to you if you don't live it.

I hope Shelley does another drawing.

WHO EFFING DAT???

2010-02-07T23:35:00.002-06:00

I marked something HUGE (to me) off my bucket list tonight. Can you guess what it was???

details tomorrow...

"If you have to cry, go outside."

2010-02-02T21:59:00.001-06:00

One of the great things about twitter is that you learn about hip, cool things that you wouldn't ordinarily realize. That's how I learned about Kell on Earth, a "behind-the-scenes look at the high-powered and fast-paced world of fashion PR." Kelly Cutrone is the founder of People's Revolution and is a major player in the fashion world. She has a book called If You Have to Cry, Go Outside, which I think kind of sums her up nicely.

I was very excited about this show for obvious reasons — my public relations background, and my love of fashion. What do we really know about the fashion world, though? All we see of it are the glossy magazine pictures, maybe the high-end boutiques, if you're lucky enough to live in a city that has them. When a face is put on the fashion world, it's that of the designer. The most behind-the-scenes we get is maybe some photos from Fashion Week, Anna Wintour in her bob and big sunglasses on the front row.

But I think it's pretty obvious that where the rubber meets the road is not at Fashion week or a Vogue photo shoot. So I was really hoping this show would be a true glimpse into the world of fashion. I would be extremely disappointed if the show deteriorated into petty arguments and bitchy reality show back biting.

And the first episode did not fall short. People's Revolution is responsible for every aspect of their clients' shows at fashion week — front of the house (taking RSVPs, planning seating charts, getting media coverage) and back of the house (show audio-visual, hair and make up, show order). I especially liked learning the seating strategy — you can't put the people from W next to the people from Vogue next to the people from Elle because they're competitors. And you can't seat the people from US magazine on the second row behind the celebrities because they will listen to their conversations and publish it as gossip. So you have to put the people from the gossip mags across the runway from the celebs so that they can be seen and not heard. And if you're seated past the third row, you're not in the game.

But what struck me most about the show was the WAY the staff of People's Revolution work. They yell terse instructions. Everyone is expected to do their jobs, and if you don't, you should probably expect that someone's going to yell at you. Thus the "If-you-have-to-cry-go-outside" philosophy. There's no time in this business for dropping balls, or for crying about it.

And when I watched it, I was all, "Finally! People who work the way I work!" Because I've worked in PR for more than 15 years and everywhere I've worked, I've been chastised for not being "nice" to my coworkers. I feel somewhat vindicated to see an agency full of people who WORK LIKE ME...and it's one of the most successful agencies in the country. HA! Take that, everyone who's ever called me bitchy!! (like it's a bad thing)

"Memphians have not forgotten those trying days."

2010-01-30T17:29:00.000-06:00

In February 1994, when my son was six months old, Memphis got hit by a vicious ice storm. This was probably the first occasion in my marriage that I witnessed my husband as Superhero.

Elijah and I woke up that morning to a beautiful ice castle world where everything was covered. I was hearing this cracking noises but I had no idea what they were. Chip was working nights, 7p to 7a. By the time he arrived home we had no electricity. He came in the house and said, "Pack up everything you and the baby need. We're getting out of here while we still can." We lived in a neighborhood with a lot of huge, old-growth trees (mostly oaks) and the branches were falling under the weight of the ice, taking power lines down with them and blocking off roads.

Chip had a friend who was the manager of a hotel in town. He called his friend and had him hold a room for us. We had no other choice with a baby — we had no fireplace for heat and Elijah was still drinking heated formula. We escaped our neighborhood, slipping and sliding on the icy roads. By the time we arrived at the hotel, there was a crush of people at the front desk — travelers mostly who had checked out, found the flights canceled and were trying in vain to get their room back.

For NINE DAYS or electricity stayed out and we lived in the hotel. It was the ice storm of the century, and the people of Memphis have not forgotten those trying days.

That's why every time there's a winter storm warning, like yesterday, Memphians descend upon the grocery stores as if the apocalypse is coming. No one wants to get stranded like that ever again. I'm not sure where they're planning to keep the milk if in fact the electricity goes out. Outside in the ice, I guess.

"There are no excuses."

2010-01-29T10:33:00.002-06:00

One of the biggest mistakes we make as women, in my opinion, is giving up on ourselves in order to focus on our family.

It makes me sad to see a baby all decked out in an adorable Baby Gap outfit, accompanied by a mother in baggy sweats and hair that hasn't been cut in 18 months.

It bothers me to read tweets from women going to Blissdom who say they haven't thought about what they'll wear, but they have perfect outfits picked out for their babies!

It upsets me even more to see how many women are retweeting and agreeing.

These are the same women that we'll be seeing five years from now on Stacy & Clinton, dressing like homeless people because they've completely given up on taking care of themselves. I know how tempting it is to spend all your money and creative energies on your child, ladies, but it is so detrimental to YOU!

Let's think about this for a second: What is it you're hoping we think when we see your preciously dressed baby? That he's the cutest thing in the world? That you must be one great mom for taking such good care of him? What? What is it you're trying to express? Now let's look at the flip side of that coin: Doesn't it bother you what we're thinking about YOU? "Gee, what an adorable baby! Too bad his mother looks like shit on a stick."

She may be a baby now, but by the time she's in school, she'll be completely mortified to have people see you picking her up. Is that what you want for your child?

The thing is — and seriously, this is what is so disturbing to me — YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN THAT. You are not just your baby's mother, you are a person in your own right, a woman who deserves more than what you're giving her. When I see a woman who has given up on the way she looks, I see a women who doesn't care about herself anymore, and that breaks my heart.

As women, we face enough negative images in the media every day, what with the airbrushing and the photoshopping and the fake magazine covers that a show seven-day-old mother with half her body magically erased. The only way we can fight this is with healthy body images. We have to love ourselves and who we are and I'm sorry, but if you're hiding behind over-sized sweats you are NOT loving yourself. And we're not loving you either. Frankly, you're giving moms a bad name.

Because there are no excuses for looking slovenly. It does not cost any more to dress yourself decently. It does not take any more time to put on something cute. It does not matter what your size is. There are no excuses.

"I had to sell my ticket to Blissdom."

2010-01-27T12:13:00.001-06:00

When I thought I might not be able to go to Blissdom, I started to really sink into a funk. I wrote a blog post all about disappointment and misery and unfairness. I felt like my goals and what's important to me was being completely...stomped on.

And then the Saints won a trip to the Superbowl.

Yesterday I had to sell my ticket to the sold-out Blissdom Conference. I'm still disappointed, but at least I have my WHODAT! Superbowl Party to concentrate on. And Chip & I have talked about some compromises that hopefully are going to allow me to focus on my goals over the next year.

As much as I hate to admit it, this just goes to show that it's not the event that causes the emotion of disappointment. It's our interpretation of it — the way we think about it, the way we react to it. Last week, the disappointment of missing Blissdom felt like a deep pit of despair. But now, because I have a new focus — the Superbowl short term, and a plan to achieve my other goals long term — it is manageable.

And that's all I'm going to say about it, before I start sounding like one of those upbeat YOU CAN DO ANYTHING! self-help blogs.

What To Wear To Blissdom Part Deux*

2010-01-25T20:24:00.002-06:00

*Subtitled: What to Wear to Blissdom if Your Team is Super Bowl Bound**

** Or What to Wear to Your Super Bowl Party

I am a long-suffering Saints fan. Back in the days when everyone called us The 'Aints and fans wore paper bags over their heads to the games because it was so humiliating to be a Saints fan. Losing season after losing season. So when that ball split the uprights in overtime last night, I cried. I cried and I screamed and I jumped up and down. My son came out of his bedroom, looked at me, and asked his dad, "Why aren't you videotaping her??" It was more emotion than they'd seen from this women since...ever.

Super Bowl is Sunday, February 7. Blissdom is the same week, Thursday through Saturday. And let's not forget that my one true love and New Orleans native Harry Connick Jr. will be at Blissdom. When you enter all this into a very complex mathematical equation, the result is I WILL BE WEARING MY SAINTS SHIRTS AT BLISSDOM.

Whether you're going to Blissdom or to a Super Bowl party, if your team is heading to the big game, you're going to want to show your colors in style. It used to be that fashionable girls like us faced a quandary when it came to being sports fans — the team clothing was definitely not stylish or flattering. But times have changed and we can have it all. We can be fashion icons and sports fans.

The first thing you're going to need is a fitted shirt. Like this:

Which THANK GOD someone finally realized that women's bodies are not shaped like men's bodies. Our t-shirts do not need to be tent shaped, thank you very much. Pair your team shirt with a pair of dark-wash jeans:

a boyfriend sweater, and some cute, not-running shoes (in your team colors, of course).

For something with a little more punch, layer your team shirt over a long-sleeved tee. If you go this route, I recommend a tissue shirt, so as to not bulk up. Let's not encourage offensive line jokes. They're never funny anyway. Or, look for a shirt that comes with long sleeves. I have this one, and it's adorable:

Pair it with a kicky short skirt

some tights, and booties. Your tights can either be the same color as the skirt (which will lengthen you), or, for a little more fun, go with the team's secondary color. I will probably do black skirt with black tights, because I have no idea where a person might track down gold tights. Well, I do, but I typically don't shop in those stores.

If you're looking for something a little more trendy, try a shirt with your team's logo in rhinestones:

Pair it with leggings tucked into knee boots and a boyfriend jacket:

Whether your hosting a party, watching at a sports bar, going to the game (or hanging out with the fabulous women of Blissdom), who will certainly be the most fashionable fan in the room.

PS — If you're at Blissdom, you have no reason not to say hi to me. I will be SO easy to recognize now — I'll be the one in heels...AND THE SAINTS SHIRTS.

"I see that character every single day of my life."

2010-01-23T23:05:00.007-06:00

Okay, I'm going to try to explain to you now why I didn't find Sandra Bullock's performance in The Blind Side to be award winning.

But first, some disclaimers:
Disclaimer #1: I love Sandy. I really do. I find her to be cute and funny and seemingly very down-to-earth for the Hollywood type. I mean, look at who she married. And she seems to really love him. Hope Floats is one of my all-time favorite movies. And it's not very often that I feel like somebody is good enough for Harry. Even in a movie.

Disclaimer #2: I liked The Blind Side, despite the fact that most people in Memphis are pretty jaded about that whole story. First of all, half of Germantown claims to have some connection to that woman — either they went to high school with her or their hairdresser used to be her hairdresser — this place is pretty small-town that way. And everyone's got some inside story: She was always a gold digger who'd do anything for money; the boy was shopped around; the family got his $4 million NFL signing bonus; the family's got some hotshot basketball player living with them now. But whatev. I know that movies — even those based on true stories — are mostly fictionalized. And I know how the sports machine works, especially in this town. So the veracity of the film is neither here nor there. I thought it was an enjoyable enough film — good script, decent story.

So what's my beef? To be honest, it's not so much with Sandy's performance as it is with the character of Leigh Anne Tuohy. I see that character every single day of my life. It's like the people in the hills of Kentucky being completely unimpressed with Sissy Spacek in Coal Miner's Daughter. "What's so speshul 'bout that? People in these parts act just like that, ain't nobody given them no acadamee award."

I would also like to point out that they could've hired me to do hair and make up for that film. I mean, they did a fine job on it. Nailed it even. Just that it's not that hard to achieve that Germantown housewives look. When you see it every day.

"What are you going to wear to Blissdom?"

2010-01-22T19:56:00.007-06:00

How do you set yourself apart in a room full of bright, talented, funny women? Why, with your wardrobe, natch.

So what are you going to wear at Blissdom?

You know me — I ordinarily wouldn't give a lot of weight to comfort when putting together a fashionable outfit. But if you're going to go the distance at a blogging conference, a certain amount of comfort is going to be necessary. So my first recommendation for Blissdom attendees this year is leggings.

I can hear some of you protesting from here. And I understand. I also used to be against the legging. I adamantly declared that they should be worn as TIGHTS, not PANTS. But let’s be clear: footless tights and leggings are two completely different things. Footless tights are just that – tights. They typically end mid-calf and are great for wearing under skirts. Leggings are thicker. They are ankle-length and are, in fact, pants. HOWEVER. When wearing leggings, the crotch area most definitely needs to be covered. This is non-debatable.

So leggings are going to get you through the day of sessions, but what to wear with them? The boyfriend cardigan is the go-to sweater of the season. It can be layered over a turtleneck or a t-shirt. You can wear it buttoned or open, or button a few of the middle buttons to create an hourglass silhouette. You can even steal the First Lady's look and add a belt.

Ballet flats are probably the most common shoe to wear with leggings, but wearing them tucked into knee-high boots is very new-millennium. Try a pair of flat riding boots if you don't think you can do heels. And contrary to what some misguided fashion writers are saying, you absolutely CAN wear leggings with heels. Pumps, booties, high-heeled sandals or gladiators all give your look a rock-star edge, and will create a kickin' cocktail party look.

Last year at Blissdom, I brought cute little cocktail dresses for the evening parties, but I discovered that most attendees didn't change from their day clothes. This year, I've decided to do day-into-evening outfits. Switch out a cardigan for one that's a little more fun. Throw on a pair of high-heeled ankle boots or oxford booties. Add a pair of chandelier earrings, a cuff bracelet or a funky cocktail ring and you're all set!

If you want to wear a dress to the cocktail party, stand out in the crowd in something that's not black. Go for a cute strapless dress with a fitted cardigan. Or try the universally flattering wrap dress with a cropped jean jacket. Either look would look be finished off nicely with your knee-high boots.

As always, the most important rule for dressing fashionably is to wear something that you feel confident in. And you won't walk with confidence if you aren't comfortable in what you're wearing. Jeans that have to be tugged up or shirts that need to be tugged down are best left at home. The most adorable dress on the rack won't be so cute on if you spend the whole evening trying to hide your bra strap.

So pack up your superhero pants that make you feel invincible and I'll meet you at Blissdom. (I'll be the one in heels.)

PS - If you have specific fashion questions or style conundrums, email me at kalisah@gmail.com. I'll see if I can't answer them in time for Blissdom.