Monday, May 23, 2011

Summering In College Town

So, here I am, spending my summer in college town where the students make up (at rough estimate) at least 80% of the town proper. So, I'm serving as an RA, moving all my things in and managed to scrape together an outfit...if a dress and heels, with NO JEWELRY, can be considered an outfit.

But I digress. So then as I struggled today on the bus ( I refuse to pay $4 for gas and carpool with my friends. Of course we always go halvsies on gas!) to regain composure and sanity, and in the process, a middle aged man, weathered by physical labour and in attire that would suggest that he was about to engage in such occupation, took the liberty to strike up a conversation.

"Hey yo girl," he shouts from the back of the bus. Instant turn-off."No, not you." He moves closer, obviously I don't look engaged enough in my phone dealings.

He continues: "Hey you, in orange." I was wearing about the only orange thing I own, an sherbet orange Isaac Mizrahi pleated jumper. I've had it altered several times, but it always ends up being 2 sizes too large.

"You, ahh-- You pickin' pumpkins?"

"Mmm, not yet." I replied succinctly. I hoped to politely convey a certain air of disinterest while not losing face to a complete audience of strangers. I'd be here all summer. Who knows when the creep would turn up again? Ew. 

"Oh, I see, I see. So you ah, so you--wanna get my number so you can call me sometime?" Please no.Please no.Please no.Please no.Please no.Please nooooo.

"Hmm, Thanks but no thanks." Things were getting strange. Please get off soon, please get off soon. dear God in heaven please make him NOT get off at the same time as I do. I will gladly miss my engagement today.

"What are you THE DEVIL IN HELL? Why can't I get you to smile? WHAT THE HELL?"He was screaming. How, how embarrassing. I bent my attention back to my phone to keep from staring at him in shock and awe. I suppose the corners of my mouth bent sheepishly upward did not count as a smile? God,  are my thoughts not screaming loud enough?

*Ding* he pulls the string to indicate the next stop. My screaming thoughts were loud enough. Thank you God. 


"So I guess, I'll try again next time?" His mood was markedly significantly more deflated "Bye bus driver lady." Awkward.

So I guess I have a pimp daddy that rides the bus and hangs out at Kroger for thrills?

Total Winning.

Till soon, a very flustered and put-upon,

Southern Fashionista

Monday, May 9, 2011

I'm Finished With Exams...

And decided to stalk/feed ducks and take their picture. The results are as follows:

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Ode to the Fanatics

Ode to the Fanatics, who will wear red, white and blue tomorrow, and not just because white is the new black for summer: 

There are few things that irk me, but they exist as the following:

1.Distasteful white shoes in any season
2. Suspenders and belts worn at the same time (then why wear them?)
3. Small talk
4. OTHER individuals deciding how I will waste my time
5. actually having my time wasted and being helpless to the imposition, as well as being acutely aware of it.
6. Seersucker/other clothing materials worn out of season.
7. and ill-timed impropriety.

But there's something that irks me the most, Fanatics. You heard me. And Americans are acutely and imperceptibly good at it. They take a devastatingly sick or outrageously unbelievable instances to call themselves American. Sure, heck if we want to implement the ideals of community or solidarity in everyday life but here we have the capture and death of Osama Bin Laden as an opportunity to embody all that we consider "American". Capitalism and being Amurican at its best: BUY MORE THINGS. Consumption, of anything and everything we can lay our grubby little Amurican obese hands on. Prove me wrong.  I bet, as we speak, there are street/online vendors already making t-shirts and collector's items for us to commemorate the event  with. The t shirts will probably render dingy on one wear that we will promptly dispose of, with accompanying American flags and banners all made in China [or if you were born in the 90's, in Taiwan]. All of which will be promptly be thrown away in a week or two when reality hits us: we just spent money on crap we bought on our way to work that we really don't need.

SO maybe my logic is flawed? Ok. I grew up in D.C. when the Pope came, President Ronald Regan died, 9/11 happened when school let out early, the Sniper attacks pervaded and I bravely walked from my car to the school building wishing we could have recess even though I did my homework then anyway... Shall we continue? Call me bitter? Cynical? I can say I've seen my fair share of purchasable crap in light of adverse conditions.

But on the flip side we could help buoy a faltering economy by employing the street vendor and his marketable crap. Don't get me wrong, I love crap. I grew up as that little child that had to posses any and everything that was dyed pink. Even to the lengths that I always ate pink ice cream

That is, on the rare occasions when 6year old Mia ate it.

So, you fanatics of Amurica, celebrate this moment in history by buying even more crap you barely have room for in Suburbia. I compel you. I demand you. Please be Amurican. Capitalism needs you now. Take the death of a foreigner as the opportunity to be proud to live in this country.

Adolfo and Tiziana Dominguez Meet the Fashion Blogger

What do you do when you combine wine, good  fabulously dressed friends, and wonderful company?

My kind of party, or Cocktail hour with Adolfo Dominguez. let's just say I almost didn't make it because of a traffic jam on I-81 and a prolonged hair appointment. Let's just say my hair stylist was one of the many things I wish i could have taken to college with me, undoubtedly. Needless to say, I was fabulously late and awesomely dressed. My friend who runs the Chevy Chase location was more than ecstatic to see me "Ah, you're here! You must meet Adolfo!"
Yes, yes...of course: I thought, undoubtedly!
We looked, and looked and looked above the racks of clothes and thinning crowd.  You'd think with my 6 inch heels and 5'7" frame, I'd be able to spot the designer in the relatively cozy boutique. We finally spotted him entertaining a small crowd. At this point, knowing Spanish would have been relatively helpful.

"Well hellooo!" he said, in affected English.
"Hello Adolfo, this is Mia, a journalist who is very important to or store." My friend warmly introduces us.
"Yes hello, good to meet you," he said, while silently surveying my figure. "You are very beautiful--and very tall" while taking in my height. I smiled contemplatively and could hear my heart beating in my ears. [Thud, thud, thud!] Wonderful. Pull yourself together Mia. You just met Adolfo Dominguez, no big.

Now it's time to meet his daughter, Tiziana Dominguez currently the Creative Director for the company
and next in line to take over for her father. A similar introduction proceeded me, and she warmly greeted me "Ah in Spain we do 2 kisses on either cheek." I suppose it was ironic she had mistaken me for a model and thought I had been hired to wear their line, but alas, not today.  :)

"It's so good to meet you! Come, I want to show you what I've been working on." She led me to the front end of the store with a rack housing a litany of options all of eco-friendly materials, geared toward the urban, hip generation. Tiziana remarked quite on point that there is a market for eco-freindly products in the United States, especially when you see things like 100% recycled napkins and Adolfo Domiguez asa brand has been continually committed to the environment.

"My sister designed the dog accessories.--So Mia, what do you do? Tell me about you." Standard response: my year in school, Comm major, social networker, blogger: the works. Somehow, we swapped emails with a promise to get coffee the next time we were both in town.

With a promise to stay in touch with my new Spanish friend and a mound of make-up work to account for, I hurried on my way back to university. :)