Godammit, I’m Mad!

Have you ever marveled at the unmitigated grotesque awfulness that is Ed Hardy? This brand and its ugly stepsister, Christian Audigier, are not only repulsive to the eye, but really expensive, too.

I showed the t-shirt above to my teenager, who was speechless for a moment. I think he may have been scared, and with good reason.

This is a brand to fear more than root canal. This shit is everything a normal person wants to avoid projecting to the world: It says “I’m not only stupid, but blind. Just kill me!”

Or maybe it’s saying: “Hey man, I totally rock!” Same thing, really.

What I have learned from reading fashion blogs is that styling is everything. Just take the Ed Hardy t-shirt above, as it’s presented by the super-elegant fashion mecca now known as Electric Couture. It used to be called Electric Ladyland, but Jimi Hendrix probably returned from the dead to get them to change it.

Anyway, who else but the geniuses at Electric Couture would think to style it with a huge fake Chanel necklace and two tons of garish chain belts and Kenneth Jay Lane bangles, plus weird cargo-like bell bottoms?

Here is another look, featuring a Christian Audigier mini-dress and some fabulous, realistic pearls, with enough fake Chanel to make you forget about the shoes. Not!

Ed Hardy is only good for identifying its wearer as an imbecile. If there were any doubt, the Ed Hardy would seal the deal.

Today I read a boring article by Gen X poster boy Douglas Coupland about growing old. He notes that we all have two ages: the age we really are and the age we are in our heads.

Later this month, Sister Wolf will be 55. If you are taken aback, think how I feel.  No one wants to be this age but, ahem, consider the alternative.

Being 55 means nothing much except that it isn’t considered a good thing by men who blabber on and on about women losing their appeal after 30. As if.  I am completely awesome, so I am happy to refute that line of thinking.

I have come to love my cute hospital bed and my beautiful red sheets, but all things must pass and the hospital equipment is being picked up on Friday.  I love cranking up my bed to read and I love knowing I can’t fall out. Oh well. Maybe I will end up buying a hospital bed for two….do they exist?!  I’m excited just thinking about it!

During my recovery, I bought this Mischen silk dress online, because it was drastically reduced and because it has zippers down the entire length of each side. The fact that I won’t ever wear it is hardly worth mentioning.  Bring on the Rapture! And the fucked-up looking hem in the photo isn’t like that in the real dress.

The age I am in my head is around 14.  My oldest son is 32, and people generally think I’m his sister or girlfriend when we hang out together, but they don’t realize that in my head, I’m still a defiant hippie girl, angry and insecure but much cooler than those awful straight people.

How old are the rest of you in your heads?

Kilian Hennessy, heir to the Hennessy cognac family, is a perfumer whose fragrances come in swanky black packaging. He looks kind of  faux-decadent, in a good way. I would totally go shopping with him, at the very least. Here is Hint Magazine’s description of his newest perfume, called “Prelude to Love: Invitation.”

Prelude to Love: Invitation ($225 for 50 ml, $2,500 for a liter barrel) keeps lockstep with its brethren in its ridiculous name and orgiastic theme, but it’s instantly forgivable once we smell the contents. Inspired by a Rimbaud poem, it’s flavored like a leaf-flavored pastille pierced with lemon pepper, an off-limits candy greenness reminiscent of when you start to feel naughty down there. At Bergdorf Goodman.

Hahahaha! Check out his other “quietly lewd” fragrances here.

I am hereby launching an exciting new feature called “Why did I buy this?” The hope is that someone can suggest a way I can wear the item in question, rather than continue to avoid making eye-contact with it in my closet or under the bed (where the unworn shoes go.)

I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought this black overall thing, but I remember really wanting it. It’s made of very lightweight wool, and the top part is very slouchy.

I would never, ever wear it with a blouse like the model is wearing, since I am not a milk-maid. Remember, as I stated somewhere recently, “Sister Wolf takes her fashion cues from Patti Smith, Morticia Addams, Keith Richards, and a Jewish grandma circa 1975.”

How about a white tank top and lots of bangles? A black t-shirt? A fitted white shirt? Ugh, right? I’m stumped. I’m not afraid of looking too manly, but I am afraid of frilly and I hate anything that might be called boho.

Well, there it is. Help a Sister out! And if you think this was a wacky purchase, just you wait.