My husband is my best friend in the world. I’m sure I’ve caused several cavities just by saying so, and can hear a few of you making gagging noises through my computer screen right now. But hey, it’s true. He’s amazing and he understands me better than anyone. He’s the only person who doesn’t annoy the crap outta me after long periods of time, and he laughs at all of my jokes. He’s also totally hot and you should all be extremely jealous.
That said, I have absolutely no desire to share my spending habits with him. Keep reading »
I remember the first time I was told that black and white should only be worn with … each other. Maybe a little gray or brown, if you’re feeling crazy. I scraped my jaw off the floor, snickered, and promptly dismissed this restrictive advice as total bunk.
But it lingered in my brain. And, over time, I began to notice that color-on-color pairings looked richer, livelier, and more sophisticated than color-on-neutral pairings. When several shades are combined in carefully crafted ensembles, the colors look their best and so do their wearers. This isn’t to say that colors should NEVER be worn with neutrals. Oh hell no. There are plenty of ways to create intentional mixes that include both colors and black or white. Or both, or other neutrals. But I believe that learning to pair multiple colors is a skill worth cultivating, especially as The Frisky celebrates New Year, New You month. Here’s why… Keep reading »
A note about this piece: The Frisky obviously regularly features our own brand of celebrity fashion policing (The Good, The Bad & The WTF, generally). When Sally, who regularly writes for us, pitched me this topic, I thought she had a valid point, one that many share and that she would argue well. Having her piece appear on The Frisky, I hope, further illustrates that we’re a forum for a variety of opinions, even those that, at times, might seem contrary to each other. Her piece certainly gave me food for thought. — Editor
Go Fug Yourself was the first fashion blog I ever read. Hell, it might’ve been the first blog I ever read period. And it was hilarious, refreshing, a bright spot in my daily grind that prompted illicit giggles at the expense of misguided celebs and their lunatic stylists. When I first launched my own blog – which discusses the intersection of style and body image — I popped GFY right into my blogroll without even thinking about it. Fashion! Funny fashion! Of course I wanted their stuff associated with my stuff! Especially since, at the time, I felt that celebrities had no excuses to dress badly: They had all the money and resources in the world, and were professionally pretty. The occasional experimental high-style gaffe? OK. Slogging around in sweatsuits and expressing outrage at the resultant public scrutiny? Childish and idiotic. Keep reading »
When I was 25 years old, I was in a band. It was a dinky little coffeeshop folk-rock band, but MAN it was fun. I had just enough skill to compose but not enough to accompany myself, so I made embarrassing recordings of half-formed songs, brought them to my bandmates, and we workshopped them together. You know how being the lead singer of a band looks really fun? Well, it IS. Seriously. Keep reading »
I’m fairly certain that I have an addictive personality. I’ve avoided drugs, gambling, cigarettes, and alcohol based on those suspicions, and likely will continue to do so until my dying day. But I got blindsided by my own addictive tendencies when I discovered the joys of personal style. After years of hating my body, I finally figured out that I could look and feel fabulous if I simply dressed to highlight my favorite physical features. It was an absolute revelation, and sparked a new-found, fervent love of clothing, shoes, and accessories. Soon, I fell into some pretty ridiculous and harmful shopping behaviors, the repercussions of which came to a head about three years ago. I had allowed my debt to grow exponentially over several seasons of frenzied acquisition. I’d begun making mental bargains with myself about how another $200 on the ol’ MasterCard wouldn’t make THAT much of a difference in my monthly payment, and I definitely needed those new Frye boots before fall arrived. I’d dug myself into quite a hole, and felt utterly incapable of clawing my way out. Keep reading »