What Ever Happened to Mary Jane?

It's incredible how much my blog time has gone down since school started. Sorry to all you readers. I know you check my blog every five minutes and stay up all night waiting for an update. Because that's how fabulous I am.

Anyway, let's talk about fashion. The delightful Mary Janes that everybody adored arrived at my local Payless, in black and white. I was ecstatic when I saw them. However, I tried them on and didn't like the way they looked. There was just something off about them. I tried both colors. I also chose not to get them because I'm banning all heels higher than a kitten heel for going to school. That's because high heels clash with heavy textbooks and steep, crowded staircases. I'm saving my high heels, which is only two pairs of wedges (including the Vogue ones) and a pair of brown heeled Mary Janes, for the weekend. I love Mary Janes. They are so great. I have three or four pairs of them. They're so innocent. Even the name is. I have three pairs of kitten heels as well. They are the second love of my life. I love shoes, in case you couldn't tell. In my opinion, pants are the meanest article of clothing, and shoes are the nicest. Amen.

Fries=Future

The Prison is the same as always. A wasp invaded my Chem class, the lunch room is full of dangerous food droppings that could cause fatal slips. You know, the usual. But I passed by a poster the other day that I found fascinating. The first time I passed it, I didn't fully understand it. On the left side of the poster, there was a photo of a greasy vat of fries. Above it said, "Fries." Then, on the right, there was a photo of a graduation cap. Above it said, "Future." First I was a bit offended, because I thought they were trying to say that if you eat fries you won't be successful. As a fry-lover, I took it personally. But that didn't make sense. Then, later in the day, I passed it again, and realized it was a poster against dropping out of school. So by dropping out of school you're choosing fries instead of a future. Now, I'm all for staying in school. But not all fry-makers are drop-outs. And where would we be without fry-makers? I hate to imagine it! Would people rave about McDonald's fries? And what would I eat?! So, I don't think fry-makers get enough credit. We all love fries, but do we ever stop to think about how they got there?

In other news, I finally saw Nacho Libre, which almost made me cry, and before the movie began my mom told me about this woman working in a chocolate factory who discovered a blob of hardened chocolate in the shape of the Virgin Mary. A few things ran through my mind:

1. What if somebody had eaten it? Just walked by after missing lunch, grabbed it, and stuffed their face?
2. Chocolate is holy! I've been convinced for years and now I have proof!
3. The chocolate, to me, just looks like a blob. But a very yummy blob.

I just didn't see the resemblence. Sure, the shape kinda looked like it, but I did'nt see enough detail. Then I saw a photo from farther away and it looked more like it. You be the judge. Go here to read the story and see the picture. Or look up "chocolate virgin mary" on Google, and you'll get tons of results.

Prison Tales

I've been put back into The Prison, where you never know what could happen. Where wearing an adorable shirt dress will inevitably lead to wrinkling and spilled drinks. Where wearing a black pencil skirt will inevitably lead to walking out the door and noticing you have strange lint-like fibers stuck to your bottom half. Could it be cat hair? Dust? Particles of my broken fashion heart, that splits in two when asked to endure textbooks and dirty lunchroom chairs and crowded hallways? Probably all three. The Prison is where the sound of 100 pairs of flip-flops changing classes is enough to make you pull out your hair at the roots. Yes, this place is truly a nightmare. But you can get a lot of blog material out of it.

Some moments worthy of recording:

1. Doing homework in the gym while watching the athletes lunge across the basketball court like they're in the Ministry of Silly Walks. I assure you, John Cleese would be very proud.
2. Receiving compliments on my linty skirt, even though it was linty.
3. Sharing with my writing class the fact that onions make me tear up, when asked what makes me cry.
4. Being shown by my teacher a confiscated hat with a "promiscuous" logo.
5. Laughing at a laboratory safety video from the 90s, in which various dangerous situations are enacted with absolutely no talent whatsoever, as well as really bad clothes.

So those are a few Prison tales, some scars I can show my grandchildren.

Because a Book is the Best Fashion Accessory

Having finished my summer reading and seeking some freedom from obligation before school begins, I've been interested in reading good books that I choose. I read about a new book in Vogue and Entertainment Weekly that sounds really good. It's called Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl. I picked it up at the book store, but it was hardcover, and therefore ridiculously expensive, so I put it back. But it's about a teenage girl and her father who are constantly traveling, and they end up living in this fictional town where the girl begins to hang out with a weird click involved with an eccentric film studies teacher. There's murder, and each chapter is the title of a famous book. There's also supposed to be a lot of pop culture references and drawings. It's supposed to be really good, and it's Pessl's first novel!

The library is free, unless you return your books late, which I never do, being the angel that I am. So I went there and checked out The Portable Dorothy Parker, and I've been reading the poems. Most of them are incredibly funny. I especially liked this one:

"Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Roumania."

She also said, "Men seldom make passes / At girls who wear glasses." And I was wondering, is that true? Not that I'm going to throw away my glasses or anything; Dorothy would probably not be proud of that.

Project Drama

I, like many fashion lovers, watch Project Runway. And let me tell you, it's craaazy. Everyone is fighting and insulting each other and taking sides. All I can think while watching is "I thought this show was about fashion. Fashion isn't supposed to be dramatic and violent. It's supposed to be fun and frivolous." If I was on that show, I would not get involved in the drama, because I would want to finish my design. If somebody came up to me and started calling me names, I would flip my fabric in their face and silently continue my sewing.

Once all the conflict has subsided, the designers must shut up and pull their designs together on time. Then we get to see the models walk down the runway wearing the outfits, as the designer narrates about what they thought about the design. It's like Sex and the City, only instead of Carrie Bradshaw sharing her thoughts, it's a bunch of fashion designers.

*SPOILER ALERT* If you haven't seen the last episode of Project Runway and do not want anything revealed, do not read on.


On the last episode of the show, the models chose the designers, as a twist. There was really no consideration of talent involved in deciding which models were eliminated, because Heidi Klum drew their names out of a hat, and the last two called were out. Two models had to go, because, in addition to Bonnie being eliminated last week, Keith was kicked off for breaking the rules. It's a shame, because I thought he was really talented, but he should have followed the rules. Anyway, after it was decided which models went and who would work with whom, the challenge was announced and it involved the models again. I think they're just trying to get more straight men to watch, because they're showing the pretty models a lot more than they used to. The models were put in front of a table full of photos of famous fashion icons, including Audrey Hepburn and Katharine Hepburn, which I was very excited about, and people like Twiggy and Madonna. The models had to run and fight to grab the icon they wanted, and then their designer would design a modern outfit that was reminiscent of the icon. Watching the models run to get the photos was like watching a mob of crazed parents rushing into Wal-Mart at Christmas time to buy a Ferby. Most of the designers got icons that matched their style. Laura, my favorite designer, got Katharine Hepburn, which I thought was perfect for her. Jeffrey got Madonna, which was perfect for him, and Angela got Audrey Hepburn, which I was not so excited about, until I saw her finished product, which of course included rosettes. Michael, another one of my favorites, got Pam Greer, which he was really excited about.

It was a lot of fun watching the finished outfits walk down the runway. The models' hair and makeup was perfect for the icon. Michael ended up winning, for his incredible magenta top and hot pants, which were incredibly well made. And who was out? It was poor Bradley, the mellow one with the sarcastic comments and the funny sketches. His icon was Cher, and I felt so bad for him because he didn't know much about her style. He made a metallic midrif top that kind of looked like a space blanket, and a pair of white pants with fringe. When I found out he had to go, I was so sad, because he was the one with the best personality. He was so mellow even when he had to go, but he still looked sad, and I just wanted to hug him. On The Soup last week, they made fun of him, pretending he made Bonnie a skin suit. Poor Bradley. Maybe it was his beard, after all.


*SPOILERS OVER*

Now, where the hell is my chiffon?!