Author: the outside lane

Happy. That about covers it.
Beauty, Reviews

Stuff I Like: Shirts, Squirts, and…I can’t think of another rhyme that works

the outside lane

I watch NBC’s Fashion Star and I love it.  Instead of making designers create couture out of garbage (which is less design, and more DIY crafting IMHO), designers create for actual buyers.  Of course it’s scripted and just as fixed as any other TV reality show (AMBER SHOULD NOT HAVE GONE HOME), but the fact that you can buy what’s been bought every week, as soon as the episode ends a) is a clever way to capitalize on marketing, b) is a brilliant way to exploit the fear of not being able to get something that you just saw and you HAVE TO HAVE, and c) feels like The Jetsons, so it is amazing.

I have wanted over half of everything I’ve seen on the show, and last season was distraught because Saks kept buying what I liked best and charging over $200 for every single item.  Like I’m going to pay $200 for a shirt?  Pfft.  I’m still combing Ebay, hoping one of the dresses I wanted will pop up.

I missed out on this shirt when it went up for sale at Macy’s, but lucked out finding it on Ebay.  I am in love with it.  It’s a half shirt, quarter sweater, quarter mesh sort of thing you’d find at Contempo Casuals circa 1992.  In other words 100% perfect for me.  It is soft, so soft, well made, well cut, and is also a limited item so I feel kind of special wearing it.  I got mine in black.

 

If I were going to wear shorts like that with my shirt, which I am not because of that recurring nightmare I have about being a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, I would want my legs to look as smooth and shiny as possible.  To that end, I would use a product I just discovered.

 

First, let’s talk about what I hate in a lotion/oil:  Stickiness, slime-iness, greasiness, grittiness, and skin suffocation.  You know what I mean?  It’s hot here, and can be humid.  If a lotion/oil coats your pores, you can feel like you are suffocating.  It’s awful.  Also awful is what a weirdo I am about getting my hands dirty.  I hate putting lotion in my hands to rub somewhere else, but strangely don’t mind spraying on a lotion (thank you Sunblock Spray!) to rub in.  Body Dew works for me on a lot of levels!

I had a Pure Romance party, last weekend, presented by the lovely Sonia Torres Cortes, and I bought the Green Tea flavor of Body Dew.  I love it!  I am prone to dry skin on my legs–like, flaky skin dry in winter, and just dry in summer.  I was skeptical of how well the Dew would work, but after a few days I can’t imagine living without it.  My skin looks and feels fantastic.  I think this is the best my shins and elbows have felt in years.

It goes on as a light spray (squirt!), and you rub it in.  Seconds later, you can dress over it, and it doesn’t stick, pull, or soak through fabric.  Nice!  And, the green tea scent is fresh and clean, and underwhelming.  I’d actually like the scent to be a little stronger.

Go to Sonia’s website, and she can hook you up.  She can also get you started with Coochy, which is a shaving conditioner.  Something else I was skeptical about because I never believe miracle potions actually are.  This was purported to allow you to shave even the bikiniest areas without causing bumps or rashes.  So far, so good.  It also comes in green tea.

Since we’re talking about unsightly bumps, lets talk about cold sores.  The first cold sore I can remember having came in Kindergarten.  It was massive, the size of a quarter, and covered half my lower lip, and part of the area between my lip and chin–it was so bad, it left a scar. 

My mom treated it with Campho-Phenique, which was the best we could do at the time.  The monster returned in First Grade, with such a horrifying vengence, they wouldn’t even photograph me head-on for my class picture.  They made me pose in profile.

I end up with a cold sore in left-middle of my bottom lip a few times a year.  Now, instead of using the campho, I use Abreva at the first tingle of a blister.  It usually takes about 3 days to clear up completely, but the sore never gets much bigger than a pin head, never goes into the gross scab phase, and doesn’t hurt.  Abreva is one of the things you can always find in my purse, along with Tei-Fu oil, which is my family’s version of Big Fat Greek Wedding Windex.  In fact, I keep a little bottle of that on my desk, too.

That’s it for now!  So, start watching Fashion Star (or watching it on DVR, like I do–Express, Macy’s and Saks update their sites on Friday evenings, so you can shop even if you don’t watch the episode), get yourself some Body Dew, and tell the world about Abreva and Tei-Fu.  I hope you don’t get cold sores, but if you do, I’m telling you that stuff works.

 

books, Reviews

A Review: Saints and Sinners

the outside lane

A great book and a meh book, one with a heavy figuring a saint and funny/insanely funny people, and the other with a variety of sinners and sads.

Where’d You Go, Bernadette: A Novel, by Maria Semple, is gorgeous.  It is layered and lively, told uniquely through the email correspondence, handwritten notes, and recorded conversations of its adult characters, and narration from its fifteen-year-old heroine, Bee.  It was intelligent and interesting on architectural, technological, and emotional levels, and it reminded me of what I like best about writers like L’Engle and Dean.  That is, the effortless flow of science and solid literature in the narrative.  I like reading a book that makes me want to go read up on something real.  Bernadette does that.

I read this in a few hours, and actually got excited when I turned on my Kindle after my bath, last night, and saw I was only 62% through.  I still had a lot more to go!  I had been afraid I was close to the end.  Now I’m sorry it is over, so I”ll have to go read it again.

Five out of Five stars

Beautiful Ruins, by Jess Walter, seems like it should work.  Like Bernadette, it is told in bits and pieces, through the perspectives of different characters.  There is action, there is adventure, there is travel, there is romance, and there is Richard Burton standing on a ship on the coast of Italy.  But it doesn’t work, mainly because there are no likable characters.  There are sympathetic characters, but no one to like.  No one to get behind.  No one to care for, so why bother?  The two characters who come closest to fitting the bill disappear entirely for sections of the book.  The writing is goodish.  I mean, there is nothing wrong with the writing.  It is perfectly good writing, but it fails to deliver on that emotional level. 

It took me 2 weeks to slog through it, and even then I only skimmed bits that were stand-alone segments, having little to do with the story.  I didn’t enjoy the reading at all.

Two out of Five stars*

What’s funny to me is how much Bernadette and Ruins have in common in the way of style, storytelling, diversity of cast, and use of pop culture. They couldn’t be more different, though.  Bernadette is going somewhere specific with it’s patchwork, and it makes a quilt.  Ruins doesn’t know what it wants to be with its hodgepodge, and it makes a mess.

 

*I have to say that Ruins isn’t a terrible book.  It isn’t even a bad book by today’s standards.  But, it is not an enjoyable book.

Howling Sea Lane

It Gets Better? Pffft.

the outside lane

Can we please stop talking about other people’s bodies?  Please?  This is my plea, and I am sending out into the universe.  It is my message in a bloggle.  Sing it:  Message in a bloggle…I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my…

If you want to talk about your own body, if you want to make changes to your own body, if you find flaws with and want to share about the ups and downs of your own body, make haste!  But if you find yourself wanting to write/talk/laugh about someone else’s, make mute.  This story was my [latest] tipping point.  Seriously?

Listen, I have a recurring nightmare that I am a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader in my current body.  I have to go out into the stadium wearing THAT uniform on THIS body.  And I have to dance.  I don’t know which is the worst part of the nightmare: My muffin top, or my complete inability to move my arms and legs to choreography.  Or the camel toe.  Camel toe figures largely into the horror of it all.

My upset in the dream isn’t because I look like I look–I know what I look like.  I look like this all day, every day, and I’ve seen me in underwear.  It isn’t that bad.  My upset is that people are going to laugh at me.  People are going to laugh at me because I don’t look how we know a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader should look, I can’t dance, and it appears that my shorts are being inhaled by my crotch.  I know that people are going to feel free to tear me apart because my image does not conform, that they will judge my character based on my belly fat, and they will think I am a bad person.  The nightmare isn’t my body:  The nightmare is society.

Can you imagine being Kelsey Williams’ mother or father?  Aside from the fact that the girl is perfectly lovely and absolutely conforms to an ideal image, and the outrage anyone should feel at being told THAT woman isn’t gloriously proportioned, can you imagine being her parent and reading the ridiculousness that was written?  Suggesting that your daughter should be ashamed of her looks and offering a POLL to discuss her figure?  I would want to set that person on fire.  That person should be required to post a picture of herself in the same uniform, in the same pose, hovering above the same poll.

Why, why, why do we think our children are going to listen to us banging on about not bullying each other when we are filling our endless internet with this trash?

I was on CNN.com the other day and I took a screen shot of a list of links below a story on the Boston bombing.  I wrote an angry rant about it, then decided against posting it because it seemed shallow in light of lost lives, lost limbs, and domestic terror.  But we blow up people’s worlds with our words all the time, so now I’m resurrecting the rant.

This is bunk..
This is bunk.

So, this is what was under an article about two men who murdered an 8 year old.  You’ve got stories parents have told on themselves–fine.  A story about dogs–fine.  And four stories that claw at self-confidence, and strike at vulnerabilities.  Not only do they affect the object of the stories, but the people who read them.  How are you supposed to feel good about yourself with the internet screaming you aren’t good enough?  What if you already have low self esteem?

Have any of you ever had acne?  Imagine your face plastered across the internet for entertainment.  It’s horrifying!  Why do we do this?  Links are chosen for popularity’s sake.  Editors post links that will get clicks.  Clicks make money.  Out of six stories editors chose for their money-making value, four of them were negative.  One was clearly slut-shaming.  One was trying to take the world’s sexiest woman down a notch.  One is a last vestige of style snark, which I hope is going away because style is so relative.  The “10 Actors Who Would Be Beautiful If Not for Their Horrible Skin,” title is just gross and enraging.

Let’s be examples for our children.  Let’s offer them an internet where the links editors think will make money are positive stories.  Let’s don’t click on [name redacted]’s pregnancy weight, or [name redacted]’s boob job, or [name redacted]’s pockmarked skin (something that even the most masculine actor in the history of Hollywood found hurtful), or [name redacted]’s trashy dress.

Let’s treat everyone else the way we want our own children to be treated.

 

 

Uncategorized

When You Have a Hoo

the outside lane

I used to have several excuses not to get out and run in the mornings.  Here are my best ones:

  1. I am afraid to go out by myself.
  2. I have no running shoes, and am not going to spend $$$ to buy them.
  3. I have no time.
  4. I hate running.
  5. I am really, really afraid to be out by myself, like paralyzed with fear that someone is going to jump me from behind, knock me down into that ditch and do horrible things to my half dead body.  Terrified.  Can’t breathe without crying kind of afraid.

But,

  1. I got a dog, so I am not alone.
  2. I found some really good running shoes for super cheap at Ross.
  3. Actually do have time for it, even if I only get up 30 minutes earlier.
  4. I also hate brushing my teeth (I do–hate doing that), but do it anyway, twice a day.  How is running any different?
  5. I got a dog who is quite protective, is going to end up being pretty tall, and who needs more excercise than he’s currently getting.  I have discovered that if I am busy trying to keep him from eating every perceived threat  that crosses our path, I don’t have time to be afraid.  However, I am fairly certain that any real threat would take one look at Hoo, and let us pass on by.

So, after getting Hoo, I upped my walking in the evenings from “Never” to “Sometimes” and almost “Frequently.”  Not quite, but almost.  This morning, I got up early to go jog with him.  We had a nice time, he and I.  He especially loved it when I stopped to fix my sock and he got to stick his tongue so far into my ear that it tickled my brain, which shocked me so much, I toppled over, and he got to climb on top of me, bat me with his massive paws, and swipe his tongue all the way up the left side of my face.  All this time I’ve been afraid of being mauled by a stranger, and it’s my own puppy who is the beast.  I am a little bit in love with this animal.  Just a little bit.

As we were crossing a street, a coyote ran out in front of us.  The coyote barely registered us, giving us just a glance before trotting on by, but Hoo lost his mind.  I’m not sure if he thought, “My people!” or if he thought, “My dinner!” but he wanted that coyote so bad he nearly took my arm out of socket.  The coyote appeared to want a nice thigh from the unwitting warriors out doing the boot camp session in the rec center parking lot. 

They had no idea they were being sized up by a wild animal.  The coyote stood on the edge of the parking lot, eyeing them for a few seconds, then he shot on into the woods.  I guess he didn’t see a weak one he could separate from the pack.  Boot Campers, you lived to see another day! 

We were only out for about 30 minutes, but Hoo was very happy about the outing.  I was, too.  It was nice to get out and go.  Did I run?  Not even a 10th of the way, but I did walk so quickly I might as well have been jogging.  Now my excuse is that my socks come off when I run, so I need new socks, I guess.

I will never like running, but I will always like walking the dog.

My handsome prince. I love his ears, and his eyebrows, and his beard, and even his sloppy tongue.
My handsome prince who drives away fears. I love his ears, and his eyebrows, and his beard, and even his sloppy tongue.
Uncategorized

You Better Work

the outside lane

I always forget how much I love Peter Murphy.  He came on the radio this morning, and I remembered.

I never forget how much I love RuPaul.

RuPaul came to my attention in the 80s, a couple of years before he popped up dancing in a B-52s video.  I can’t remember how I knew of him–it probably had something to do with my Andy Warhol obsession.  I remember being excited that he’d made it into a music video.  And you know that his song Supermodel was my interior theme music, don’t you?

I loved his look, loved his act, loved his charisma (and his uniqueness, nerve, and talent.)  It wasn’t until the internet that I got to find out how much I love his attitude.  RuPaul presents a lovely personhood.  I haven’t ever met him, so I can’t vouch for how closely life imitates his art, but I buy into his public worldview 100%.

I saw this video of him being interviewed by Joan Rivers, today.  Love him.  Adore him.  Wish he was my friend.

My take away from this video came from him talking about how he felt like drag was a celebration.  He said that dressing up in whatever way you like to dress up (meaning that drag isn’t the only way to do this–for you, it might mean a 3 piece suit) is a compliment to the creator, a way of saying about your body, “I love it! I’m going to decorate it!”

I love it!  I’m going to decorate it!

I love that.

When you move into a new space, what’s the first thing you want to do?  After taking a nap because moving is exhausting, I mean.  You want to decorate.  Whether that means going all in with paint and textiles, and furniture, and your Pinterest board alight, or it means just taping up your Farrah poster, you want to make the space yours.  And that’s all style is.  Style is just making the space of your body yours.

I had some extra time this morning, so I “decorated” my hair more than usual.  I feel like I have a party on my head =)  It feels good!

Here are a few of my favorite RuPaul quotes:

  • “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

 

  • “Be very careful of what you allow to infiltrate your consciousness and subconsciousness. When you watch too much television, you’ll start to feel inferior from all the commercials hard selling the idea that you’re not complete unless you buy their product […] The ad agencies appeal to your fear of not being wanted or loved. It’s the same with the local news. They get you to stay tuned with a constant stream of fear tactics […] It’s as if our culture is addicted to fear and the flat screen is our drug dealer. Don’t allow that crap into your head!”

 

  • “If you have goals and the stick-with-it-ness to make things happen, people will feel threatened by you, especially if your goals don’t include them. They believe that if you take a piece of pie, then that leaves less pie for them. Seeing you follow your dreams leaves them realizing that they’re not following theirs. In truth, there is unlimited pie for everyone!”

 

  • “I’m six foot four – hello. And with hair, heels, and attitude… I’m through the mother-freakin’ roof!”

 

  • “Look at me–a big old black man under all of this makeup, and if I can look beautiful, so can you.”

 

  • “My attitude toward friendship has remained the same. I will support and encourage you with all the love in my heart, but if it’s not reciprocal, I gotta go […] If your friends are bitter about your success to the extent that they act out, don’t expect them to change […] Move on.”

 

  • “My goal is to always come from a place of love …but sometimes you just have to break it down for a motherfucker.”

 

  • “True wealth is having a healthy mind, body, and spirit. True wealth is having the knowledge to maneuver and navigate the mental obstacles that inhibit your ability to soar.”

 

  • “We’re born naked, and the rest is drag.”

 

  • “Whatever you proclaim as your identity here in the material realm is also your drag. You are not your religion. You are not your skin color. You are not your gender, your politics, your career, or your marital status. You are none of the superficial things that this world deems important. The real you is the energy force that created the entire universe!”

 

  • “When the going gets tough, the tough reinvent.”

 

  • “When you become the image of your own imagination, it’s the most powerful thing you could ever do.”

 

  • “With hair, heels, and attitude, honey, I am through the roof.”

 

  • “All sins are forgiven once you start making a lot of money.” 

 

  • “When I think about my Glamazon, would that character get down if someone said her thighs were heavy? No, she knows what other people think is none of her damn business.”

 

  • “Very little is off -limits, but draw the line at being unkind.”