I need a hit of K.

So one of my, probably top five, favorite bands is Something Corporate. Something Corporate has been off the radar for about three years now. They had a semi-hit around 2001 (If You C Jordan), but it wasn’t until I saw them open for Good Charlotte that I became hooked. It was a 10-minute piano epic that hooked me: Konstantine. (Also, I am a little embarrassed to say I went to a Good Charlotte headlined tour, but whatevs. It was still when they were smallish and pre-Joel-Madden-dating-Hillary-Duff).

My friend Shamra went to that concert with me and was equally as transfixed by this song. And I am warning you, if you haven’t heard it and you go and download it at my advice, don’t say I didn’t warn you that anytime you have a 10-minute window of free time you’ll be like “SWEET! I can listen to Konstantine.” And I’ll even admit that during 30-minute windows between classes, sometimes Sham and I would sit in silence together and listen to it three times through.

I’ve only seen them play once as a true fan—I basically chaperoned my then-high-school-aged brother and his high school friends to a show at Nation in ’03. I’m pretty sure Andrew (McMahon, frontman/piano player/emo icon) knows that there’d be a major coup d’etat if he didn’t play Konstantine. It’s the number one shout out request at the concert by far. I think its people get scared he WON’T play it because it’s not on any of their full-length albums.

In 2004ish, Something Corporate went on a club tour- little did we know that this would be their last tour (at least to the present time). I got shut out of buying tickets before it sold out. But my good friends, Robbie and Jessica, were fortunate enough to have a pair. WHICH ROBBIE DECIDED TO SELL ON CRAIGSLIST INSTEAD OF TO ME because they were going for about five times face value on Craigslist. First of all, if you are a super fan, you don’t give up tickets. It wasn’t a matter of not being able to go. It was a matter of capitalism. I bet Andrew McMahon hates you and your scalping ways, Robbie. Robbie will never live this down until Something Corporate goes on tour again (which will probably be like 2009) and redeems himself in the form of buying me a ticket (don’t worry, I will buy myself one as a backup plan and then sell that one for five times face value once I’ve secured the Robbie ticket).

Anyway, he kind of avoided a lot of my fury because Andrew formed a side project, Jack’s Mannequin, which is basically Something Corporate but a little happier/less emo. I will never forget the first time I heard them. Rachel and I had just become friends and I was in her car listening to a CD that she thought I’d like. And I had a mini freak out when I heard the first song: DOES SOMETHING CORPRATE HAVE NEW SHIT OUT?! Then I got the Jack’s CD and put that on loop for like a year straight. They’ve come around this area three times in the past year (opened for O.A.R., headlining show in Baltimore, headlining show in DC last night). I still hold that Something Corporate is the tightest, but I love Jack’s Mannequin too. So if they’re playing in the area, I’m not going to say “no.”

Another thing about both bands is that their fans are, um, “devoted.” One of the fun games Jessica, Robbie and I like to play is “Spot the Superfan.” It’s always entertaining.

Last night, Jess, Rob, Rachel, Joe and I saw them play 9:30 club. I thought I spotted the superfan. Man was I wrong. Jess and Rob definitely won that round. My guy was in the second row and liked to interpretive dance the lyrics (for example, from Dark Blue “We were boxing/We were boxing the stars.” This guy was like throwing punches in slow motion and grinding on his girlfriend at the same time). But their chick was about 35, on the balcony and pretty much lost all bodily control during the songs. I mean. IT. WAS. A SHOWTIME.

Finally, the reason for my blog—At every Jack’s show we go to, they always play a Something Corporate song. And I get cised everytime that they might play one of my faves. Konstantine, obviously would be the #1 choice, but I’d totally settle for Straw Dog, Hurricane, Fall or Cavanaugh Park. Basically, Robbie, Jessica and I have a conference before every show to calculate the odds that he will play one of these songs. Last night gave me the greatest hope yet. Andrew went on this whole long schpiel about how he is so appreciative of SoCo fans coming out and shouting out SoCo requests and that he was going to play us “a few.” (By the way, they sold out two nights in a row at 9:30 and apparently he played different SoCo songs last night. I’m trying to find a playlist so I can make sure I don’t have to build a time machine to go back and exchange my tickets for Sunday night). So I guess that time machine talk kind of gives up the fact that none of my top songs were played. “She Paints me Blue” and “21 and Invincible” (a much less punky version) were the last night’s SoCo selections. I mean, I’ll never complain about them playing any SoCo songs, but I KNOW THAT HE KNOWS that everyone wants to hear Konstantine. Hook it, man. Just a little hit?

Anyway, this post, I guess, was more of an explanation of my connection to Something Corporate and Jack’s Mannequin. As usual, Rachel does her concert reviews on her MySpace blog. But as a little preview of what the evening actually encompassed, and her review, I will leave with my following summation of last nights show: “Taking Back Sunday, the Jr. High Years” (the Auditions) and “Franz Ferdinand Goes Heavy Metal” (Head Automatica) opened for “Jack’s Mannequin the Jam Band.” It was a pretty eclectic mix. And a far cry from the emo band, Copeland, that opened for them last time. They were so sad. I thought they were going to hang themselves onstage. That last part of my summation goes with the quote of the night (Robbie’s first reaction after the show):

“Wow. Who knew Jack’s Mannequin was a jam band?”

Oscar Scorecard.

I went 5 for 6 in predicting wins for the only categories that matter.

Best Pic:
Who I wanted to win- The Departed
Who I predicted would win- The Departed
Who won- The Departed. Because it’s money.

Director:
Who I wanted to win- Scorsese
Who I predicted would win- Scorsese
Who won- Scorsese

Best Actor:
Who I wanted to win- Ryan Gosling (only since I saw Half Nelson this weekend. Rent it NOW.)
Who I predicted would win- Forest Whitaker
Who won- Forest (still need to rent this movie. From the clips I’ve seen, this was well-deserved).

Best Actress:
Who I wanted to win- Helen Mirren
Who I predicted would win- Helen Mirren
Who won- Helen Mirren. I don’t know how old she is. 60, maybe? Is it wrong that I wish I had the body of a 60 year old? She is rockin’.

Supporting Actor:
Who I wanted to win- Marky Mark.
Who I predicted would win- Eddie Murphy (Yeah, I dunno. This category was kind of a crapshoot)
Who won- Alan Arkin. From WWTDD's Oscar re-cap: Alan Arkin. It's nice to see someone who is Jewish finally have some success in Hollywood. This win may finally open some doors.

Supporting Actress:
Who I wanted to win- Rinko Kikuchi
Who I predicted would win- Jennifer Hudson
Who won- Jennifer Hudson (Am I the only person on Earth that finds her incredibly annoying? She should have won American idol, but seriously, get off the cover of Vogue. You’re going on my worst dressed list too.)

I did NOT, however, predict that this was going to happen:


And now for what really matters. Worst dressed.
I’m not going to clutter my blog page with photos of terrible clothing. If you want to see this hot mess of Oscar dresses, click on the link.

WORST:
Jennifer Hudson - Hate the color. Hate the fit. Hate that witch-collared shrug.

I don’t even know who this is (the caption says Eva Green). The terribleness of the dress speaks for itself.

Beyonce- Is she wearing a sash made of stones? That can’t be comfortable.

Naomi Watts looks like a bumblebee with sleeves.

Kirsten Dunst- But seriously, if you know me, who didn’t see that coming? She makes my skin crawl. Although, in her defense, one of my all time favorite Oscar looks was her in 2005. It was pretty much all downhill from there, though. I was actually pretty stoked that Marie Antoinette won for Best Costumes. I got that on DVD just for the music and fashion. And for the cinematic miracle that was making Dunst look human. And actually, coughprettycoughcough.


Let’s end on a positive note.

My favorite of the night: Gwyneth Paltrow in Zac Posen. The hair, the makeup, the dress—worked together splendidly. STUN-NING.

Reese is on fire. She hasn’t missed a best-dressed list at any awards show I’ve seen her at this season. Goes on to support my anecdotal theory that the ladies only get better after breakups. Here she is in Nina Ricci by Olivier Theyskens.

Jennifer Lopez in Marchesa. You might notice this was one of my fashion week picks (it was shown in black then). J-Lo might not be my favorite person but she’s been making some good style choices lately. Probably her worst decision was to bring Skeletor as her date.

There were some other good looks: Maggie Gyllenhall in Proenza Schouler, the producer lady that won the humanitarian award, Marky Mark’s date (wife?? Baby’s momma?) but nothing else really blew me away.


Wait. I take that back. Who is this stunner?

My best friend is either a clairvoyant, sorcerer, or Kevin Bacon in a lady-suit. Which one?

My social experiment (as encouraged by the comments and emails regarding my last post) lasted about 15 minutes after it really escalated to a level I wasn’t prepared to go to. So this is the last time this Craigslist/MySpace/Internets/texting incident will ever be mentioned on here.

Our text conversation verified that it was indeed the MySpace guy I thought it was in my last post. But the best part of this story was yet to happen, at this point. Turns out our circles of acquaintances are much more connected than previously known. This is because my friend Jessica has some connection to ever person under the age of 70 in all of P.G. County and it’s neighboring territories.

After reading ONLY my blog post from yesterday and a separate email which consisted soley of my documentation of the 15 minute text exchange I had with “random” ticket buyer guy (we’ll just call him “Joe Craigslist”), this is what happens:

Jessica: Send me his MySpace page.

Leslie: No.

Jessica: I won’t comment on it.

Leslie: No.

Jessica: Is it Mike Someguy?

Leslie: No.

Jessica: What’s his name?

Leslie: Joe.

Jessica: Joe Craigslist.

Leslie: HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT??

Jessica: Because [blah blah blah, information redacted]

Leslie: Seriously. HOW DID YOU PULL THAT?

Leslie: I am baffled.

Leslie: I am fucking blown away.

Leslie: OK, so what if he texts again? I should just ignore it?

Jessica: Yes. Unless you want to be “saved.”

Leslie: If by “saved” you mean effed by a youth pastor, I’ll pass.

Jessica: Good call.

You can’t mess with her. Like, how do you pull a person's name, on the second guess, from what vague and little information she had out of EVERYONE who could have possibly responded to a DC Craigslist posting for concert tickets? She knows everything and everyone. In fact, I heard that the “Six Degrees if Kevin Bacon” is doing a regional expansion and the PG County Game is “Six Degrees of Jessica.” They’re going to have to pull it though because it’s actually so much easier to connect Jessica to people than Kevin Bacon.

I really hope that I don’t have anything that “interesting” to post on Monday. Because honestly, after this, if something surprises me, it probably involves someone getting pregnant or going to jail.

I'm going to start a "Wiki-ASSHOLES."

Last night was the second show in less than a week I’ve been to at the 9:30 Club where the main act credited MySpace for their success. The band I saw last night even wrote a song about teh awesome MySpace: “New Friend Request.” And now, I would like to regale you with a tale of how MySpace saved my sanity. Thanks, Tom.

I had three tickets for last night’s Gym Class Heroes show- one for me, one for my friend Rich, and one for his girlfriend, KG. KG ended up not being able to go to the show and so I put her ticket up for sale on Craigslist. The show was sold out, so I was getting mad offers for it. I ended up asking Rich if it was OK if I sold all three and we’d just blow our earnings on dinner and drinks instead. I like Gym Class Heroes, but I don’t $50/ticket like them.

Flash forward to last night, one of my buyers backed out (it was OK though, I still recouped all my expenses plus $20), so I still had a ticket. I had arranged to meet another buyer at the U Street metro stop at 7pm. The guy texted me to say he was there and I told him I was wearing a light blue jacket. We saw each other from about 20 feet away and I was thinking “Ohmigod. Craigslist guy is cute. I did not see this coming.” We both kind of had dumb grins on our face and we made the switch. Then he asked if I was going to the show. I said, “Maybe. I have an extra ticket, but I’m having dinner with a friend. So I might make it if I feel like staying out. We’ll see.” Then we parted ways. And of course I immediately texted Rachel “OMG. Craigslist guy was hot.” I mean, that’s a given.

So midway through dinner with Rich I get a text. “Are you gonna come to the show?”

What?!?! Craigslist guy who I just majorly ripped off by selling him a ticket for triple face value is concerned about my decision to come to the show? Was this not concern, but in fact a hint that he wanted to see me again? I’ve dealt with Craigslist folk in the past and this was NOT textbook transaction behavior (unless you’re selling your porn collection. I do have a story to tell about that too). I asked counsel of no less than three people on what I should do. It was a unanimous: “Go.”

Anyway, me and Craigslist guy texted a bit back and forth—obviously flirting. Rich was encouraging of me meeting up with the CL dude and even gave me a ride to the club. I got there just as Gym Class Heroes was going on and texted the dude that I had indeed decided to come to the show. I didn’t hear back, but I figured, the headliners were on, it was loud, oh well. Enjoy the show.

Aside: GCH was tiiiiiiiight. They closed with “Clothes Off!” which I am really tempted to add to the playlist for this party I’m co-hosting on Saturday. But I think I’ll get scolded by the other hosts for not sticking to “the generic girl party music genre”—All Beyonce and 50 Cent ALL THE TIME!

As soon as the show ended, Craigslist guy texted me: “Hey, I just got your message” (that I had decided to come).

I was towards the back, so I’m already out the door and walking home. I texted back “No prob. I had a great spot. Did you have a good time?”

CL guy text: “Yeah. I wanted to say hi again.”

LG reply: “Well drop me a line next time you are in the city. You can say hi again then. Deal?”

CL guy: “Deal :)”

Wow. Wouldn’t you agree that is a great “cute meet”?

UNTIL….

Guys, I want to let you in on a secret. You can find out just about anything about anyone on MySpace or Google. If a girl in interested, chances are, she’s Googled you. I don’t like to get in the habit of Googling people because I think it’s a little crazy. (I mean, I’ve certainly done it in select situations, but I have some friends who might have developed some sort of Googling psychosis.) But that’s why I have my friend Jessica, who Googles any guy I’ve ever mentioned to her whether I want her to or not (and also why I often withhold info and/or last names from her).

Anyway, long story short, I found Craigslist guy on MySpace.

And here is the punchline to my “cute meet”…wait for it….WAIT FOR IT….

According to the “About Me” portion of his MySpace profile, he’s a youth pastor that is married with two children.

Bam.

At first I stared blankly in disbelief. Then I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes for a solid five minutes. Then I said to myself- "this will be great for my blog!"

No Deal.

[Update, 2:30pm: CL guy texted me. "How is your day going?" The way my "consultants" view it, I have two choices: 1. Ignore it (my preference), 2. Play along as a sort of social experiment as to just how far this guy will take it and post any absurdities on this blog. Thoughts?]

L-Bert Does Public Relations.

So most of you guys are aware that I work in the Public Relations industry. I’d say for the most part, I have normal, or at least interesting yet non-controversial clients. But a select few of you know that I have one client in particular I don’t like to talk about outside of the office, simply because I don’t like to get into it with people. Once I tell people what’s going on, it turns into an hour-long discussion (sometimes argument) and that’s an hour I wasted talking about work, that I can’t bill. I don’t want to “out” my work life on this blog (not to mention it’d be totally unprofessional), so I won’t mention the client or get into any details—you just have to know that this client is about on par to “pitch” to reporters as asthmatic dwarves. So for the purpose of this story, lets just call my client the “Asthmatic Dwarf client.” Thank you, Dilbert. (By the way, Scott Adams holds a special place in my heart to begin with, for one magical night of Trivial Pursuit: The Drinking Game. Another blog, another time, though).

My friend Rachel, who you may have noticed is my weekend bar buddy/wing girl, is an engineer who contracts for NASA. For many people, this somehow translates to “Rocket scientist” or “Astronaut.” So, much like what happens in the story I’m about to tell, guys will approach us and ask what we do. PR flaks are a dime a dozen in this town. I usually tell people what I do and move on. With Rachel, it’s another story. Telling a dude that you’re an engineer for NASA is apparently like a dude telling a single Jewish girl he’s a Doctor. After the awestruck-ness wears off, the questions never stop. Not only do I find this hilarious because it looks incredibly awkward for Rachel to answer everytime, but I just add fuel to the fire: “Oh yeah, she told us all about the broken Hubble lens.” Or “Yeah, R-bone’s scheduled to go up in the shuttle in about 4 years.” Or, sometimes I can pawn them off: “Yeah, I’m in PR, but you should talk to my friend. She’s a ROCKET SCIENTIST!!”

Saturday night we were at Stetson’s on U Street for our pal Emily’s birthday and there were a lot of new people there we hadn’t met before. So Rachel had to do the NASA schpiel for like 8 guys. Every time I turned around it seemed like she was at the part where she starts talking about things like math, which I don’t understand. Finally I turned around at one point and remarked “Seriously? Again?” To which she says to the guy “Leslie does PR for Asthmatic Serial Killing Polygamist Dwarves.”

She knows I hate it when she does that.

Luckily, that guy didn’t hear and I skated away from that discussion, only to turn around and start talking to a guy who was actually interested in hearing more about the PR I do. I said I worked a lot on media surrounding Public Affairs issues and things going on in Congress and various Government entities. But he was like “20 questions guy” and kept asking. So finally I said, “Um, well, have you heard of the Asthmatic Dwarf issue?” Indeed he had been following the issue in the news and got really excited. I told him he needed to quiet down because I didn’t want the whole bar to be in on my secret and how a few weeks earlier I had run into the President of the Anti-Asthmatic Dwarf Association at the movie theatre and you never know where those guys are lurking about. After a solid 15 minutes of discussing the issue he just stopped and said: “Wow. I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe the Asthmatic Dwarf girl is the captivating girl in Stetson’s with the two-tone eyeshadow.”

Yep, it’s me.

President's Day: An Underrated Holiday

Wow. It’s hard to believe President’s day has gone as fast as it came. It just sneaks up on me every year and I can’t even fit it all my celebrating! I think I did OK this weekend. We developed a new President's Day tradition: Drinko. It’s like Plinko, except shots are at the bottom of the Plinko board and you drink from whichever shot glass the Plinko chip falls in. It’s played on President’s Day Eve and it’s the way our forefathers would have wanted it.

[UPDATE: When searching for a picture of Drinko online, I found the following User Review on Amazon.com:

The first time I encountered this device was when I was at my local cafe and the waitress (who shall go unnamed) showed it to me. She said it was a Christmas gift from her sister. After showing me how it worked, I then asked Lila if her sister was some kind of sicko, because the game is clearly designed by, or intended to be used by, monkeys. After she stopped pummeling me, I managed to stay conscious long enough to play a round with several of the uniformed law enforcement and emergency medical types. Though the entertainment value of the game was largely lost on me due to my subsequent hospital stay, I think some people would appreciate the chance to play this game as a further excuse for their drunken rampages.]

Moving on...I also brought in a new addition to my accessory family this weekend- a black leather Marc by Marc Jacobs bag. I got it at Cusp in Tyson’s Corner. The great news is that Cusp is opening a store in Georgetown on March 1st, so I’ll have even easier access to making ill-advised, checking-account-depleting, frivolous purchases.

Probably the highlight of the weekend was seeing Lily Allen at the 9:30 Club (Friday night with Jessica, Marie and R-bone). She vaguely reminds me of Gwen Stefani circa 1995- Lily’s got the whole ska-influenced music, heavy bangs, drinking/cursing like a sailor, girl-in-a-boy’s-world (but still kicking ass), unambiguous lyrics thing down (just like Gwen did). In case you didn’t know, I’ve had a mild obsession with Gwen since the age of 13. I call Lily “potty mouth spice” though because her music is so sunny and pop (and British), but if you listen a little closer, she says things like

“Try desperately to think of the politest way to say/Just get out my face, just leave me alone/And no you can't have my number/Cause I lost my phone/Oh yeah, actually yeah I'm pregnant, having a baby in like 6 months so no, and uhhh.…./ Nah I've gotta go cos my house is on fire…./I've got herpes, err no I've got syphilis...” (Knock ‘Em Out)

OR

“I never wanted it to end up this way/You've only got yourself to blame/I'm gonna tell them that you're rubbish in bed now/And that you're small in the game.” (Not Big)

Lily chose not to have an opening band for her set. Instead she chose to have an opening DJ who turned out to be fantastic: Aaron LaCrate. He’s a DJ for people with ADD because I swear every song mixed in only for about 30 seconds. But they were all money. And I don’t know what the rest of the crowd thought, but the dancing fools next to us also seemed to enjoy it.

During Lily’s set, we tried to figure out which guy in her backup band she was doing. We nixed the trumpet/horn section on the basis that, although cute, they were probably band nerds. No one else really stood out until we both looked up at the balcony and saw the DJ all smiles and googly eyed for Lily. Then Jessica and I both turned to each other with our best “eureka” expressions and said simultaneously: “She is boning the opening DJ.” When we shared our hypothesis with the rest of our group, they kind of looked at us funny at first and then Lily looked up at the DJ in the balcony and started batting her eyes. This continued for the duration of the show. Goofy smiles, batting eyes, mid-show shout-outs. She told us she’d just got off a plane from London, so they probably didn't have time to do it yet. The show was probably just foreplay for those two. It’s a lock. Lily was wastey-pants by the end of the show too. I lost count of her (what appeared to be) Jaeger shots. When I got home, I wanted to look the DJ guy up on MySpace to see where he spins only to find him and Lily were all over each other’s pages. They’re in love. Hypothesis PROVEN.

Ebay is turning me into a crazy person.

My navy and black silk Proenza Schouler dress arrived the other day (I had to order it as they were out of my size in-store). I’d already decided that’s what I was going to wear to a party next Saturday (well, actually, I’m one of 8 hosts and it’s the third annual…we dress up every year). Then I had a smashing idea! I would wear the dress with black tights (inkeeping with fashion week trend #2 from this post) and the most dazzling shoes I’ve seen so far in 2007 (even though they’re from 2005-ish), which I had just spotted for “cheap” that day on Ebay:

Chloe Silver Chrome Snakeskin Sandals

Anyway, I rarely bid on anything ‘til the last hour, so I flagged the item and waited to bid. When I returned Wednesday evening, 20 minutes to close, I was pretty confident I’d get them as no one else had bid on the shoes for the entire run, so I didn’t anticipate a bidding war (which was great cause the price was super low for these particular shoes…compared to their original retail price). Long story short, Ebay member rachelmarie822 is now on my shit list. She is a sneaky Ebay lurker, last-minute bidder and a life-ruiner.

Anyway, I’ve tried to find similar shoes elsewhere, but it’s just not the same. It’s not the Chloe snakeskin shoes! The only thing that even comes close in terms of me liking them are the silver Manolo D’Orsay pumps, but they’re 8 times more expensive because they’re regular retail price and I really just like the Chloe ones better.

The sad part is, I like them more now that I know I’ll probably never have them. This is a personal issue I need to work on and is probably the single-most dominant psychosis I have in all areas of my life. At least I am self-aware. Especially when it comes to shoes.

In the Liam Lynch Music Video of my life, those chloe shoes “rule” and that sales lady is rachelmarie822. Let’s get some shoes:

Panic! At the Fashion Show...

...It was all for nothing. After my Marc by Marc Jacobs freakout from Monday, just found this on style.com, so we can all lower our fashion terror alerts back down to yellow:

Foreign Exchange
Alice Temperley has big shoes to fill. The Tuesday 2 p.m. time slot that formerly belonged to the Marc by Marc Jacobs collection is now the Brit import's. Jacobs is taking his secondary line to London, where his new boutique is set to open on Mount Street in Mayfair later this month.

I can't hearr*

Last night, Laura, Rachel and I went to see Stellastarr* play at Rock n’ Roll Hotel. Having been there half a dozen times, I can attest that this is not just a one night fluke: That venue’s sound is wired like fucking Madison Square Garden. When the size of the place is only about twice that of my apartment, that is NOT a good thing. WHY? WHY SO LOUD? I love Stellastarr* and all, but unless the single off their next album is a cover of “Since U Been Gone,” I don’t see many Madison Square Garden appearances in their near future.

And I don’t think it’s just me in my old age. About 2 songs into the set, the drummer stood up and sign-languaged every instrument on stage and motioned his thumb down, like they had crazy people working at RnR. Or deaf people. Maybe that explains why it was so loud. Luckily, I knew the first couple of songs and so I could make out what I was listening for. But if some random just showed up, it would just be ridiculous cacophony.

Even after they fixed the levels, it was still painfully loud. But RnR needs to fix this situation or I am gonna start being real choosy on who I decide to see there.

Stellastarr* was great, though, and we were all in the front row. The opener was a local band called Soft Complex and they were impressive. I’ll leave the music reviews to Rachel (since I know she agrees with my assessment). And anyone interested in checking out a super awesome valentine today might want to check her blog.

[Sounds like The Cure + Interpol...or...AWESOME.]

Top 5: NY Fashion Week

Am I hallucinating? I was holding off on doing my fashion week top 5 because the Marc by Marc Jacobs show hadn’t happened yet. And it’s usually one of the last shows. But here we are and its now London fashion week—New York fashion week has passed—and I have seen no trace of a Marc by Marc Jacobs fashion show. Marc Jacobs, yes. Marc by Marc Jacobs, no. AND THERE IS A BIG DIFFERENCE, PEOPLE (I know at least one of my friends can back me up here, KRISTIN. Hell, Phillip knows enough about this stuff from hearing the two of us go on about it. He can probably back me up).

By the way, the only time Kristin and I have ever gotten into a fight (which basically constitutes us getting snappy and then not speaking for about 10 minutes) was on our wild goose chase for the Marc Jacobs store on a 95-degree day in Paris. It was a Marc Jacobs store—NOT a Marc by Marc Jacobs store—which meant the turquoise jeweled ballet flats that I’ve been looking for, for about a year and a half now, were not there (because they are Marc by MJ and PS- I am still looking for them to this day. The only reason I know they actually exist is because I saw them in a size 5 at Les Printemps that day) but the lavender-ish grey lace and jersey dress as seen on Lindsay Lohan et al was there (on sale for 1800 euros instead of 3000). And the nicest person we met on our whole trip, the MJ saleslady, told Kristin to try it on. Our fight basically ended upon entering the Marc Jacobs store, which was not on a street at all, but on a pedestrian walkway/alley whose back faced a large garden area. Kristin wanted to know why MJ chose to hide his store on a non-existent street. I said because he’s “edgy.” Theory was later proved in October of 2006 when I went to MJ San Francisco. Also located in an alley.

I frequent the Marc by Marc Jacobs store in NYC’s West Village (next to Magnolia “miracle cupcakes” Bakery). Here is the difference between MJ and Marc by MJ:

Paris store (MJ): Has a glass case filled famous dresses worn by celebrities, including Anne Hathaway’s navy blue tulle with silver sparkles Oscar dress from last year.

New York store (Marc by MJ): Sells condoms with a wrapper that says “Always remember, Safety First! XOXO-Marc Jacobs” (OK, it’s not like a sex shop or anything, that was just one example, but tacky trinkets are the name of the game. Like, the MJ lipstick pen sitting here on my desk. Or the heart-shaped tortiseshell compact mirror for $5.00).

I want a tacky, kitschy, vinatagy, affordable, fun, girly Marc by Marc Jacobs fashion show. Not proper girls in hats (see complete MJ show here http://www.style.com/fashionshows/collections/F2007RTW/complete/thumb/MJACOBS).

Fuck it. Here’s my top 5:

Weekend Update

Friday night I had dinner with my Dad in Crofton (I had an awesome steak, a glass of pinot noir and something called “Death by Chocolate” for dessert. Good news, though, I powered through and I’m still alive.) Then went to my little bro’s hockey game. He plays for UMBC and they were up against an undefeated team that already had an automatic bid to the nationals in Colorado, and I had been forewarned by Lame Evan (that’s my brother) that it was probably going to be a blowout. Quite the opposite. If the refs hadn’t been borderline retarded (or anti-punctuality, that’s a different story though), UMBC would have won (they called an OBVIOUS goal a non-goal. If there were instant replay in college hockey, they would have challenged and won). Anyway, ended up in a tie, which is still a strong showing against a team of that caliber. It was an exciting game. Plus, UMBC goes to regionals next weekend and the first team they play is my arch-nemisis, Ohio State. Evan—I expect a complete update of your triumphant defeat of the pansy buckeyes immediately after the game. When I got home, my first issue of Bust Magazine had come in the mail and my wo-crush, Gwen Stefani was on the cover. Charlotte got me a subscription to the mag for Christmas, but it took awhile to kick in. I used to think that was a lesbian magazine, then one day I was at the newsstand and Parker Posey was on the cover. I said to myself “I don’t care if this is a lesbian magazine. That’s Parker Posey and I am a little gay for her anyway.” Then I found out it wasn’t a lesbian magazine. It was just an awesome magazine. And either Charlotte somehow magically channeled my brainwaves to know I wanted a subscription or just saw that their most-recent covergirls were Parker Posey, Amy Sedaris, and Tina Fey and knew it was pretty much the perfect gift for me. Either way, she nailed it.

Saturday I spent curled up on T-Bone (Tristan) and M-Bone’s (Mike’s) satellite dish (one of those round nest chairs) and watched M-Bone and Will turn T-Bone’s apartment into a driving range (they used a wiffleball. Luckily.). M-Bone cooked some bruschetta, we watched the Wisconsin-Iowa game, part of “Coming to America” and all of “The Big Lebowski” and then decided to go to Cosmic Bowling at Bowl America in Falls Church. Clearly, Saturday was splendid.

Today I went to see Babel, then came home and ordered pizza and watched Sherrybaby. Unbeknownst to me at the beginning of the day, I could not have picked two more depressing movies. Babel was excellent, though. It reminded me of Syriana (which I also loved). I think it was the whole divergent-plots-coming-together-by-the-end thing plus the overall anti-American theme. Sherrybaby was by no means “pleasant” to watch, but Maggie Gyllenhall gave a great performance. I’ve got to see Letters from Iwo Jima this week, in order to round out my Oscar “Best Picture” noms screenings. I’ve also got (netflixed) Half Nelson on the way (Ryan Gosling is nominated for that), Flags of our Fathers, and Running With Scissors (which I really meant to see in the theatre, seriously stoked/can’t wait to watch). Factory Girl finally came out this weekend, but I think that movie trip will have to wait ‘til after I cram in all the Oscar pics. Or maybe I’ll take myself on a Valentine’s movie date. I really love me. I’m awesome. I’ll probably buy myself chocolates.

Top Five: The Shins edition

I know, I know, I am slacking in the music review portion of the blog. I think I promised this a while ago, but I am glad I waited as long as I did to do my review of the VERY EAGERLY ANTICIPATED Shins album, Wincing the Night Away. The first two listen-throughs, I really thought nothing could beat Chutes Too Narrow. That has a perma-spot on my jukebox of life. I won’t say this is better, but I do think they are too different to compare. Anyway, both are formidable efforts and I pretty much have Wincing the Night Away on constant loop now, for the time being. Also, I like numbering and ranking things, (one) because I think order is very important and (two) most of the time there is some reason some thoughts should be separated form others by distinction of a bullet point or other identifying label (a number, for example). With that said, here’s my top 5 tracks on The Shins’ stunna, Wincing the Night Away:

1. Sleeping Lessons [begins very dreamy/trancelike/tranquil…kicks it into high f-ing gear—I refer to it as the REM cycle of the song—about ½- way through. This is my new wake-up song, cause I need to be eased into my mornings. But 90 seconds into the song I am ready to kick ass. It’s that good. Download now.]

2. Girl Sailor [I liked this song before I ever paid attention to the lyrics. I probably never would have paid attention to the lyrics until Rachel claimed this song was about her. She’s a lyrics advocate. I am a melody advocate. I think the mark of a good song is one that can convey the emotion or meaning of the song without having to understand or interpret the words. If you can move me to feel a certain emotion through musical notes or voice inflection, you are a good musician. If you can move me to feel a certain way through verse or words, you are a poet. Anyway. This song fucking rules on both fronts, so download it.]

3. Split Needles (Album Version) [Discussion in item #4]

4. Split Needles (Alternate Version)- [I actually heard the alternate version first. The two versions are completely different songs in my book—BUT with the same lyrics! Every time I listen to one, I think that is my favorite. But then I listen to the other and I think that is my favorite. It’s a vicious cycle. If you can figure out how to break it, let me know. But that would require you downloading both songs. Something I would suggest you do nonetheless. The Alternate Version is a fast-paced, dancey, headboppy tune. The Album version is a sad but mellow and soothing tune. You have a version for every mood. Man! The Shins think of everything! They are musical superheroes.]

5. Turn on Me [I’m totally a hypocrite because I think I like this song more after listening to the lyrics. The chorus is catchy, though too. It will get stuck in your head for days. If you don’t like catchy music, though, maybe you should stay away from downloading this one.]

Pretty much every time I listen to the CD, I consider replacing #5 with another track. (If you like songs that say the word "La la la la la" a lot, like I do, download "Australia"). I was going to do an “honorable” mention section here for great songs that didn’t make my top 5, but that would be THE REST OF THE ALBUM.

Fashion Week: Trends I Love.

TREND-Cobalt: This is an “it” color for spring (as is canary yellow), and it looks like both will be crossing over into fall this year. This rich bright blue is probably my favorite color to wear but has been heard to find in the past. I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of it in 2007. As seen predominantly on the runways this week at Jill Stuart, Alice Temperley, Malandrino, Thakoon, DKNY, and a few pieces here and there from Narciso Rodriguez and Marc Jacobs.

TREND-Black Tights with everything: I’m glad to see this trend is here to stay for a while and they were shown all over DKNY, Temperley, Tuleh, Marc Jacobs and Oscar de La Renta. I really was big into patterned tights this year (although cool pairs that weren’t footless—that fucking leggings trend killed me—have been hard to find. But I just recently found this awesome site). Tracey Reese was showing different patterned black tights on every model. You can see the holy grail of tights at the end. I want them. I need them. I have to have them.

Best. Tights. Ever:

Fashion Week Trend I could live without: Trekkie Chic.

I usually am a big Luca Luca and Monique Lhuillier fan, but they’ve jumped on the “Astronaut Jones” fashion bandwagon. That's a funny skit and all, and I can see where you might be inspired, but we were laughing AT Tracey Morgan. Not with him.

Seriously though, what is with this futuristic trend? I can live without it and do not plan on embracing it this fall.




(I will say that most of the Monique L. collection wasn’t half bad, but she showed it on Clingon models.)

I might expect Rachel would like this sort of nonsense since she likes Star Wars, works for NASA and cises Dippin’ Dots (GARBAGE ice cream of the future). But not me. I'm more of a retro fashion fan. Although, the one Luca Luca dress I did love was this:



More trends to come...

I met the Hamburglar.

Sometimes unexpected occurrences in life make any given situation that much more AWESOME. For example, let’s say you had tickets to the sold out Wizards/Lakers game Saturday night and by chance entered the Verizon Center through the entrance where they had just opened a Dunkin Donuts in the arena that week. And at that Dunkin Donuts, not only did they sell DUNKIN DONUTS COFFEE for street value ($2/cup), but they also served chocolate Munchkins™ by the cupful. Surprise! This is a true story. And I’ll leave it to you to decide if we did or did not get a cup of Munchkins for the game and another cup to bring to the bar after the game.

Example #2, The “Situation”: After heading out from Marie’s birthday party in Adam’s Morgan, T-Bone/Tibs, R-Bone/Ribs and “nickname that will go unmentioned but originally given to me by Sham-bone, not Will or Mike”/Libs (translation: Tristan, Rachel and I) went to the LAMEST PARTY EVER to meet up with Mike, Will and Ted. We may very well have been the only girls there, and the alcohol supply had already been kicked. So Ted’s visiting friend decided he needed food and he needed right now.

A couple people were pretty adamant about going to Popeye’s for some reason (probably because their biscuits are MONEY), but we ended up at the 17th Street McDonalds. The Gay McDonalds (if you live in DC you know that’s actually a statement of fact, I’m not just throwing around the word “Gay”.) Ribs and Tibs and "Will and Ted’s excellent entourage" got in line, while Ted and I sat at a table and Mike sat at the table next to us, diagonally across from Ted (I condisered drawing a diagram, because positioning is important for what is about to happen).

And here’s is where it gets awesome:

There is a McDonald’s bag on the table. I don’t bother to look at what’s in it, I just hand it to Ted and he doesn't really question the gift. The events of the next couple of seconds are a bit of a blur, but all I remember is Tristan comes back, stands behind Mike and Ted says: “Hey Tristan, watch this.”

Ted hurls the bag at Mike’s face, hits his glasses off, chipping part of the glass and gives him a red eye. At this point, we actually had no idea what was in the bag.

Turns out it was not a rock, as Mike had thought, but what had happened was that Mike just took a DOLLAR MENU DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER TO THE FACE.

T-Bone got a bag of ice and Ribs came back from being in line, having no idea what had just happened. But she finds it appropriate to give Ted her Wizards jersey that she’d been carrying around since after the game and instruct Ted to put it on over his winter coat. Thus, the birth of “Obese Arenas.”

The post burger-to-the-face fallout included a demand from Mike for Ted to “Eat the Faceburger.”

We all pretty much agreed with Mike, so Ted took a bite out of the Faceburger. Then T-Bone took Mike home to console him about his broken glasses and burger wound. Shortly thereafter, Ted exclaimed, “WE NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS MCDONALDS.”

He was right. We did.


Maybe one day I will tell you the story about how I got kicked out of a McDonalds in State College. Or maybe my friend Sham-bone/Shambles (Translation: Shamra) will, because the only thing I remember was being scolded by the management for causing a scene and being asked to leave. Much like the events leading up to Burgergate 2007, the circumstances of my State College McDonald’s blacklisting are pretty much a blur.

(if photo won't load, click here)

I mean, they kind of have similar glasses. I'm just sayin'.

It's Fashion Week!

It’s February. Are you guys pumped for fall fashion? CAUSE I FUCKING AM. That’s right, it’s fashion week in New York. I’m going Rob Gordon on your ass and will post my “top five,” at the end of the week. Yesterday’s favorite shows included DVF, Philip Lim, Tuleh and Lela Rose. Style.com has complete collections posted, usually within 24 hours. So if you can’t wait, check it there.


Finally, for all of you wondering about my success at the Proenza Schouler launch yesterday, I got:

• The Dove Grey and White striped spring jacket (Liked it way better in person than in this pic though)
• Rose silk blouse
• Navy and black silk dress (Again, way better in person. I probably never would have given it a second look if I'd only seen this pic)
• Dark denim button-front skirt
• Dove Grey pencil skirt

My FAVE DRESS wasn’t at the store and isn’t available online yet. But, rest assured, it will be mine when the second wave of the line hits. And I think the denim skirt is also supposed to come in yellow twill. So I’ll probably snag that too, if it comes along.

Liberation Dance Party, The Screenplay.

Scene 1: Sarah, R-bone (Rachel), & LG at the early stages of Liberation Dance Party @ DC9 on Friday night. A bunch of hipsters are standing around trying to look cool, not yet drunk enough to dance beyond the headbop/knee jerk (during the next scene in which the most terrible local band ever plays, this will be referred to as the “courtesy head bop”). A tall gentleman dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, Kangol baseball hat, and nikes (quite a misnomer from the hipster crowd) starts some sort of unidentified mischief on the dance floor…

LG: [Pointing to guy] Wow. I can already tell that guy is going to be a menace tonight.

R-bone: Oh. Definitely.

LG: For the purpose of the rest of the night, we’ll just refer to that guy as “Dennis the Menace.”

R-bone: OK.

Scene 2: LDP’s “DJ Bill” is rudely interrupted by a live set from the band “The Perfects.” Musically, I’ll just say, it was not good, and leave it at that. Appearance-wise, the lead singer looked like he rummaged through wardrobe on the Cosby Show (don’t even get me started on his twin brother, the keyboard player in a full-on suit. Saturday Night Live circa 1999 couldn’t create better mise-en-scène and the keyboardist would definitely be played by Horatio Sanz). During the tail end of the set, Dennis the Menace sidles up beside me and stands there for a minute. Having already pegged this guy from the beginning of the night, Rachel can barely contain her laughter as Dennis the Menace leans over to my ear…

DTMenace: I’m seriously punk rock, too. [note: clearly not.]

LG: Excuse me?

DTM: Well you look like a punk rock kind of girl. Just letting you know. I dig it.

LG: Um. OK.

DTM: This band kind of sucks, but I’d pay $20 for a ticket if they changed their name to “Fat Guy In a Sweater.”

LG: [Laughing hysterically]. Oh my god. Tell her. [points to Rachel].

DTM: No. That’s probably her boyfriend, isn’t it? Or she’s like best friends with the band.

LG: Absolutely not. I think she’ll agree wholeheartedly with your statement. [DTM tells Rachel and conversation continues.]

DTM: OK, I am going to give you guys a choice. Which band would you rather see: “Skinny Guy in a Sweater. Fat Guy in a Sweater. Or….MIDGET in a Sweater?”

LG & R-bone, Simultaneously: Midget in a Sweater.

DTM: Book it.

[Band ends, Rachel exits the conversation with DTM & LG in obvious wing-girl fashion and talks with Sarah]

DTM: What’s your name?

LG: Leslie. What’s yours?

DTM: I’m Dennis.

LG: What? Did you say your name was Dennis? DENNIS. Seriously? Are you sure?

DTM: Yeah, I’m Dennis.

LG: Ummmm, you have to meet my friend. RACHEL!! Come here. RACHEL. [Rachel comes over]. This is my friend Rachel.

[LG to self: Say it….SAAAAAAY IT…]

DTM: Hey Rachel, I’m Dennis.

R: [Turns to Leslie] Is he being serious? Dennis?

LG: Yes.

INTERMISSION
I am omitting the second act specifics, but will summarize it by saying Dennis the Menace followed me around all night. Sarah got LITERALLY picked up on the street by a large Asian man. Rachel was pursued by a gentleman who wouldn’t specify what he did, but assured her “I make a lot of money.” And we all agreed that Electric Six’s video for “Danger! High Voltage!” was inexplicably overlooked at the VMA’s. You Tube it. Seriously, do it.

Men's Pocky Sticks, Knitting, Romantic Ringtones, and Eggs

I have so much I want to get off my chest right now. And most of them (my thoughts) have nothing to do with each other. So they're numbered in chronological order beginning with last night and ending.....NOW.

1. Last night at the convenience store in Rachel’s building, I was looking for a candy of sorts by the cash register to satisfy my sweet-tooth. I came across an item called “Pocky Stick” (rhymes with “hockey stick,” or, like a chicken pock, with a “y”) They are thin biscuits shaped like a pixie stick and dipped in various chocolates or fruit coatings. “Strawberry Pocky Sticks,” “Milk Chocolate Pocky Sticks,” and “Men’s Pocky Sticks.” At that I turned to Rachel and asked the only natural question: “Why is this Pocky Stick for Men?” And the cashier laughed at me like he knew something that I didn’t (maybe he did, since there was some sort of Asian writing on there that I could not decipher). Anyway, see for yourself and perhaps you can explain the situation to me: http://www.alde.com/anime/pocky1.html

2. Immediately after the “Pocky Stick incident,” Rachel gave me a knitting lesson in her apartment. Some of you may know that I sew clothes. Sometimes I even go patternless and design the clothes. Also, I like to cut and paste paper-based things. In other words, I am no stranger to crafts. However, I can tell you after last night that the only thing I should ever be able to knit is a Cosby Sweater. The situation is bad. And on top of that, my body hurt more after knitting for 2 hours than it does after running 3 miles or working out at the gym. How?

3. My Motorola Razor bit it. I wanted it so bad to begin with, but it’s given me nothing but trouble ever since I got it. Now that I think about it, I’ve had some other relationships identical to that with actaul humans. Anyway, I’ve upgraded to a palm/blackberry-type-thing, and switched to T-Mobile. Wouldn’t you like to be in my top 5? I am going to add someone’s boyfriend [cough]ROBBIE[cough cough] on there and make the ringtone a love song, just like in the commercial. The only debate now is which song? Phil Collins has some gems. But then again so does Peabo Bryson. I can’t decide and I’ll need help narrowing it down. I might make Jessica’s ringer a love song too, just to throw her off. But I’ll let her pick the song, because that's just the kind of thoughtful friend I am.

By the way, I’m totally kidding. Check out http://www.robbieandjessica.com/ or http://weddings.theknot.com/pwp/view/co_main.aspx?coupleid=100421636485384 . They're pretty sweet wedding sites and you’ll also note that I am a “Lady Friend/Bridesmaid” which means I will be going to Hawaii for the nuptials. It doesn’t get much tighter.

4. I totally talked to Joel “I don’t want him googling himself and finding this so I put this intermission between his first and last name” Stein on the phone today. He needed the help of one of my clients for a column he’s writing. I talked to him for about 15 minutes and I think I sounded pretty intelligent and might have even made him laugh a few times. It was nice to return the favor since his columns and VH-1 punditry make me laugh ALL THE TIME. Also, I didn’t tell him I was a fan, because I didn’t want that to come across as creepy (even though it’s not creepy really, I just enjoy reading his work, and knew about him as soon as my boss mentioned Joel needed some info from us and then I asked my boss if I could handle it. Turns out no one else here had ever heard of him). But I did tell him that I read his column on poached eggs and we got in a discussion about egg-poaching techniques. I hope he doesn’t write something bad about my client because then I’ll have to call back and yell at him. Or, at the very least, my conscience will be clouded with negative thoughts whenever I read his future columns.

Epilogue: No less than FIVE people have sent me the exact same story today--http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/02/01/boston.bombscare/index.html
I'm not really sure why. I mean, its pretty interesting/ridiculous, but I didn't even get that many e-mails when Britney and Kevin announced their divorce. So I think maybe my friends have their priorities mixed up. HOWEVER, I would like to congratulate Charlotte for being the first to send me today's story and also for being awesome. That is all.