The Joy Of Trying To Tidy Up

July 2nd, 2015


In my continuing effort to make life livable, I’ve sunk to self-help books. It’s a poignant conundrum. The more you succumb to self-help books, the more of a loser you are, by definition.

Still. I have high hopes for The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. a worldwide best seller that makes a bold promise:

In this book, I have summed up how to put your space in order in a way that will change your life forever.

The book is slim, like The Prophet, and similarly filled with wisdom, only more useful wisdom. I vaguely recall stuff from The Prophet, like your children are arrows and sadness is a well or something. Great.

But compare that to the revelation that everything you own should spark joy. If you pick something up and you don’t feel any joy, YOU DON’T KEEP IT!

It’s such a huge but simple concept. All the shit you’ve acquired is shit that you have to put somewhere and there’s just too much of it. Duh, you know that. But you don’t know how to cull your stuff, and you’ve tried so many times. You can’t get rid of stuff because you paid good money for it, you might need it, you might lose weight. it’s a memento, it was a gift, it isn’t broken, one day you’ll give it to someone.

Anyway, the first brilliant edict from the author, Marie Kondo, that shook me to the core was this:

Don’t demote clothing to ‘lounge-wear.’

Right?!? Even my husband admitted to this practice. If something is too ugly or worn out to wear in public, you put it with your PJ’s.  Ms. Kondo insists that even when you’re at home, you should be wearing something that sparks your joy. Right now I’m wearing a green tank top that I’m going to throw away later tonight, because the color and cut bring me NO FUCKING JOY, none.

It’s that simple.

So, I’m not following Kondo’s instructions to the letter but I’m making a start. I emptied each drawer of my dresser and picked up each item. If there was a distinct No Joy feeling, I made a contemptuous face and threw it on the floor. If there was a ‘meh’ feeling, I hesitated.

But I did collect two bags of shit to throw away. I have to go around the house and do this with everything. It will be exhausting but I think I can eliminate tons of stuff from my amassed belongings, which have become burdensome.

I also got a book for parents whose adult children hate them. It is somewhat comforting.

Throwing shit out is the way to go, the road to harmony and contentment. Maybe the less I need, the less needy I will seem. I will be spartan, disciplined, and self-contained. I will accept no nonsense from green tank tops.

And throwing shit out puts you in a position of power, which is good. Like George Bush said about Donald Rumsfeld, I am The Decider.

The Tragic $1,500 Sandal

June 27th, 2015

DSquared Sandal 1500

Just in for fall winter 2015-2016 are these inexplicable sandals by DSquared.

DSquared Sandal rear 1500

Here are its ‘features’ as written on

Metal Applications
Solid color
Zip closure
Leather/rubber sole

And yet that tells us nothing. We need those proselytizing editors at net-a-porter to truly capture the atrocity on display here. It’s a biker-cowboy-bondadge mash-up that no one could or should walk in. They don’t even tell you how high that heel is.

Would anyone like to write the editorial description designed to sell (or even explain) this tragic eyesore?


The Awfulness Inside The Awfulness

June 21st, 2015

littlle shit

Let’s say your dad is a tattooed bully with pierced nipples who had a nasty divorce from your mom before you were even born, and later leaves you with his new wife four days a week.

Let’s say you changed schools six times before you dropped out after repeating ninth grade. Your dad still fights with your mom about visitation, his second wife can’t stand the abuse and finally leaves after dad beats her up.

You’re frail and weird looking and ‘painfully shy’, and you don’t have friends so you spend a lot of time in your room at your computer. No one pays much attention to you until you get kicked out of the local mall for acting strange and the cops find your Suboxone, a drug for opiate users trying to get clean.

Your sister plans her wedding but you’re not invited. She’s registered at Kohl’s.

You’re just an angry little shit with a bad haircut and probably some kind of brain damage from drugs or trauma, and you form some idiotic sub-KKK philosophy just to have someone to despise more than you despise yourself. You take a bunch of stupid pictures of yourself in your room with your Confederate flag, glaring like Robert Di Niro in Taxi Driver only worse.

Why the fuck would someone let you have a gun??

That made all the difference: You were just a little shit but now you’re a monster.


Fuck You, Redneck Boot Sandals

June 15th, 2015


I was so touched when three separate people sent me links to these stupid cowboy boot thongs. I thought, “Aww, how lovely, when people see grotesque shoes, they think of me!”

But when I read the text, I learned that the boots are the work of some smartass self-styled redneck who’s managed to make a splash on social media with his stupid faux product.

In other words, these boots are not found art like shoes that someone actually considered attractive and wearable. Instead, these fucking boot-things are ironic, get it?

We don’t need ironic ugly things, we’re already drowning in sincere ugly things! Fake ugly things bring no frisson of joy.

This guy’s Facebook page does not indicate what he intends to do with his new fame or whether we can expect other shoe-jokes in the future. But I can only hold him in contempt for intentionally fucking up a pair of boots, and for thinking he could design anything as innocently hideous as these ‘Open-toe Chrystal Boxer Booties’ by Giuseppe Zanotti.

Giuseppe zanotti shoes

Exciting News About Hideous Denim!

June 10th, 2015


Yay for me!

I have started a new blog devoted solely to hideous denim, so as to spare sensitive viewers (and impressionable children) from being subjected to this topic.

It you’re wearing your big boy pants, go check it out.


Getting Over Bruce and Caitlyn

June 8th, 2015

lauren bacall

How much longer do we have to hear about Caitlyn Jenner? It was fun for a moment, I’ll admit it. I’m as much of a ghoul as the next man when it comes to sensational news stories and celebrities.

It’s just that stories become so overblown now, with everyone needing to weigh in on their own angle and digging for cultural significance or subtext.

The tide of political correctness is so massive that there’s just one way to react to things, or else risk the collective disapproval of the entire worldwide web.

So now the Guardian has published a long and ridiculous exegesis on the Caitlyn Jenner Phenomenon, comparing her looks to Lauren Bacall and winding up on this note:

Like it or not, the Kardashians have done something positive, progressive and meaningful. The internet era of baring all can be a beautiful thing: prejudice can wither and fall, and acceptance and understanding blossom in its place. And I’m not just talking about Caitlyn Jenner.

Jesus god almighty, can we just shut up about this guy or woman? Fuck her/him already!

Soon enough, people will turn on Caitlyn, because that’s what happens. But until then, we’ll all be judged on our response to her ‘journey.’ Because I’m so awful, I can admit that I’m not impressed by the ‘courage’ it took for a media-savvy reality TV star to use Diane Sawyer to one-up his awful attention-seeking family.

If I were a regular every-day transgendered person, I think I’d feel even more fed up with the adulation this character has received. My inner gay guy (who doesn’t have a name but loves Japanese menswear) is not impressed.

Not to mention Lauren Bacall.

Five Years In

June 6th, 2015


I’ve read that the first four years are the hardest. And you are most at risk to kill yourself.

I’m still here. That can be tough to excuse or justify.

I’ve lit my candle. It’s only right to thank the people who lit candles five years ago when I asked them to.

So thank you. It really helped.


Disappointment #1577689864

May 25th, 2015

handbag raincoat

I was absolutely thrilled when I first saw this little Handbag Raincoat at Shopbop. It’s such an obvious solution to the problem of shielding your nice handbag from the rain! Why didn’t anyone come up with this sooner??

Think of all the times you tried to stuff your handbag inside your jacket when it suddenly started to rain.

When my rose-colored Chanel bag was new (and I’m talking to you David Duff) I worried about the slightest drizzle and I wiped the bag immediately to make sure it was dry. Now that it’s beat-up from years of service, I don’t worry too much about rain.

But what if you have a suede bag, for fucksake! Your bag deserves a raincoat.

It even comes with its own cute little pouch.

cute little pouch

So imagine how disappointed I was when I went back to consider buying one, only to see this review:

ashsmith review

A piece of junk that is nothing but an inconvenience?!

Ugh, you’d have to be pretty stupid to buy one now. Unless the reviewer, “ashsmith,” is just some crazy troll determined to dash my hopes and dreams.

Meanwhile, I’ve been wasting hours looking at expensive designer bags, conflicted about the whole handbag thing, knowing as I do that the nicest handbag won’t help anything. But still.

Does anyone out there still give a shit about handbags? I’d like to hear your thoughts. (But not yours, David Duff.)

2015 Billboard Awards Exegesis

May 19th, 2015

Taylor Swift must die

God what a cultural wasteland. The Billboard Music Awards was one long Disney ad, disguised as a tribute to popular musical artists, with the word ‘artist’ meaning in this case ‘no-talent little shit.’

Sheer torture throughout. it was nothing short of a call to arms: Taylor Swift Must Die.

It was all about Taylor Swift, either Tayloring up the place with her sickening speeches to her fans (“You guys! I’m obsessed with you!”) or just grooving in the front row to whatever awful music was murdering our souls from the stage. She is one awful girl. She’s the girl we all hated in junior high, still pretending to be nice while making life miserable for anyone who crosses her.

There was Kanye, reminding us of his genius at getting bleeped out on live TV. I read that he said the word ‘nigger’ forty-one times. If he could just chant it the whole time, we wouldn’t have to hear anything! Think it over, Yezy.

Nicki Minaj livened things up with some solid twerking, and domestic-abuser Chris Brown danced around in a florescent blood-red suit. He danced with Pitbull, that bald guy who nobody can figure out why he’s famous.

Some awful country band sang about having a ‘girl-crush’. I’m sorry, I can’t even talk about it. Let’s see, what else. OH! Ed Sheeran was surprisingly inoffensive. I don’t like that elf look of his but at least he plays an instrument.

One Direction was there but we didn’t know if one guy was missing because we didn’t know how many there are supposed to be. It seemed like there were three or four too many.

Iggy Azalea and Britney Spears did a lip-syncing number that both seemed bored by, and Iggy betrayed me personally by getting a new nose and chin, nullifying her claim to originality. She’s dead to me now.

Some kind of fake Sam Smith person played a song with Wiz Kalifa. Much less perturbing than the real Sam Smith, who, mercifully, is recovering from throat surgery.

Chrissy Teigen was an embarrassing co-host to Ludacris, who is a pretty decent actor if nothing else. Chrissy is married to John Legend, so one assumes she must have hidden depths of some kind. However, the two men present for this viewing agreed that she was a “mean and stupid Filipino girl.’ They said this was a lot of authority, too.

That long-haired Hozier guy took us to Church, and rated a pass from all of us just for seeming like a real singer and bringing a little Goth melancholy to the situation.

There was one moment that offered a glimmer of hope: When two Kardashian girls came out to introduce Kanye, the audience booed. For just an instant, the audience acted like they had standards of some sort.

But then, no. It was Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, all the way home.

Met Gala 2015 Exegesis

May 5th, 2015

Let’s start with my favorite look just to get it out of the way: Rihanna. She is a fucking goddess.

Rihanna is proving to be the best source of daring, original fashion that the pop world has ever seen. She wears the coolest under-the-radar designers and puts together the best outfits, period. With her yellow fur-trimmed cloak, she has ushered in a style I will call ‘Regal Ghetto‘.

Rihanna yellow stairs met gala


Her outfit is the work of Chinese couture designer Guo Pei and apparently took two years to create. Rihanna didn’t care about dominating the red carpet as it was cleared to accommodate the mileage of her trailing cloak. As she said about social media recently, “Do I even give a dick about that?” And she doesn’t. Not one dick.

Let it be known that I will marry Riri if she will have me.

Next up are the naked butts. J Lo, Kim Kardashian, and Beyonce all unveiled their outsized butts, hoping to grab the spotlight. Kim was SO CLOSE to winning the ‘Most Naked’ prize until Bey showed up in a few sequins, posing her butt in every angle possible from a standing position.


She is pretty damn proud of that butt. I have now looked at it so much that I just want to put a thermometer in it. Mothers, do you feel me? And don’t forget, she is a feminist.

Anyway, Bey wins ‘Most Naked’ but Kim still gets ‘Biggest Bare Butt’, as if there were any other butts in her league.

kim k met 2015 huge-butt

Why, Kim??? Just stop it. We can’t, okay?

For ‘Most Egregiously Horrifying’, the prize goes to Kim’s mom, Kris.

Kris is so horrible

What the fuck! Surely this is deliberate. But how can this even happen? Where do you find such awful 80’s crap? Sea of Shoes‘s closet? Salvation Army? While we ponder the horror of Kris Jenner, why don’t we say what we’ve been thinking about her marriage. I’ll go first. She and Bruce don’t need a divorce; Bruce can be the woman and Kris can be the man! It’s such a no-brainer. Kris is halfway there, or at least as far along in her ‘journey’ and Bruce is in his.

Never mind, you can’t save every marriage, not if people won’t listen to reason. On to the ‘Most Tragic’ award, it was an easy win for Sarah Jessica Parker.

Sarah Jessica Parker tragedy

Should we feel sorry for her? I don’t know. Let’s not. She brought it on herself. On the other hand, she’s married to a man who won’t come out of the closet and she has to pay women to have babies for her. That part is kind of sad. Still, that fucking headpiece: criminal.

Winners in the ‘Simply Awfu’l category were Miley Cyrus, Solange Knowles, Anna Wintour Herself, that 50 Shades of Grey girl, Lady Gaga, and most surprising, Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe the Chris Martin thing is fucking up J Law’s game.

Two gorgeous Chinese actresses who put almost everyone else to shame were barely mentioned, so let’s give them their due. Gong Li is always stunning and her appearance at the Met was right on point. I could watch her movies forever, just to admire her face.

gong li fabulous

Fan Bingbing is an international red-carpet favorite who always brings it. Always. Last night she was pure ‘Ooooooooooh.’

Fan Bing Bing 2015

Finally, my choice for most annoying is Amal Clooney. She is always looking around for a camera. Her bony arm must make Angelina furious. And I’m disgusted that George had to buy a castle in England to pay off his beard uppity starving wife. Just take them away.

Amal looking for camera met gala

Okay, over to you. What did I forget?

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