Fashionably Stalled

Sartorially speaking, I can't seem to drag my tattooed carcass into 2006. I see what the little 19-year-old girls are wearing out, and I can't hang. You see, I like to outfit myself in things that make me look attractive. They needn't be dull-- God knows I love my fake hair and animal prints-- but they do need to flatter My Humps and be somewhat wearable.

Here are some trends I will not/cannot wear:

'80s-inspired pumps: Heartbreaking, because I have stripping-related problems with my left foot and therefore am forced to wear to manly, broad-soled kicks with sufficient cushioning. Anything with a pointy toe or even a suggestion of a heel is raus for this client. I live in cowboy boots and Converse, even when they completely ruin the line of my outfit, because normal shoes make me whimper in pain. Karma? On Saturday, I went to Nordstrom Rack and bought a pair of pink Chinese Laundry ballet flats because they reminded me of the Sam & Libby craze of 1991. However, that's as dainty as I can possibly get. Plus--and I swear this isn't just sour grapes--those trendy little pumps are U-G-L-Y and they ain't got no alibi. Mischa Barton, you look stupid.

Leggings: You're pulling my fucking chain, right? This might be a textbook case of "if you were old enough to wear it the first time around, don't try again." I was the Duchess of Leggings in the seventh grade. I wore them with tunics, bolero jackets, Beefy Tees silkscreened with Donnie Wahlberg's smiling face. I weighed about a buck-five at the time, so I was able to pull off the look with some success. Now? Not so much. Even if I could squeeze into a pair of leggings, the effect would be totally George Lucas (Industrial Cellulite and Magic.) I'm not having it.

High-waisted, tapered-leg jeans: NO, NO, NO! Boot cut jeans are a present from Jesus. They flatter everyone. They negotiate my girlish curves, rather than straining against them. And they can take a boy's ass from broke to Brokeback in seconds. Tapered jeans are a hardship, a pox upon mankind. They flatter no one. There is a photo of me at 17--lithe, lissome, you bet-- wearing a pair of tapered Gap slim-fits. In the photo, I look like a 40-year-old mother of 5 simply because those jeans were so suck-ugly. I beseech everyone, thin or fat, please don't convince jeans manufacturers that we want to wear these things again. Vote with your dollar, your lira, whatevs.

Oh yeah: Hilary Duff? Fuck you for wearing those stupid Sass and Bide jeans and convincing US Weekly that we all need to follow suit. Plus, that's $238 you could have given to Haylie.

A bunch of layered cotton tops: This look adds bulk I'd sooner avoid, plus I can scarcely be arsed to wash one shirt, let alone 5. Also, it's very hard to nip-out through that much fabric, and you guys know how much I enjoy intentionally nipping-out. Diablo the Braless Wonder: bringing uncomfortable silences to meetings and parties everywhere!

So that's that. I'm not a total stick in the mud when it comes to trends-- I'm doing the huge sunglasses thing like everyone else, and I even bought that masochistic goo that stings your lips and makes them look plump (subtly plump, not Jessica Simpson-on-Restylane plump.) But I can't be totally au courant. It just wouldn't look hot.

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In other news, I taught Sunday School at my church yesterday! Really-- I had the second, third and fourth graders, who had some surprisingly deep questions about the existence of the Easter Bunny. I stammered about the importance of blind faith for a few minutes, and then we made arts and crafts pertaining to a treacly-but-touching book about Jesus. I love pretending to be normal, even if it's only for an hour.