Cherry Pie? Is That You?

Yesterday, I stepped outside and forgot the Golden Rule of Blogging: Never forget your camera.

So, sadly, today I do not have documentation of what I will swear under oath to you that I saw. A woman, leisurely strolling along by herself, wearing an all-lace see-through wedding dress, like so:



And, underneath, nothing save:



Oh, right, and a veil.

As per usual, I only have some hypotheses as to why this would happen:

1) We are close to VH-1's office so perhaps we have gotten the inside scoop that Rock of Love's Bret Michaels has finally decided to tie the knot and end the franchise that single-handedly revived the leopard-print, bandanna, and male weave industries.
2) It was laundry day and this poor girl decided that if all she had left to wear was the wedding dress left to her by her Warrant groupie mom, she was at least going to accessorize it with pride, damn it.
3) Wedding stress caused this poor bride to forget that she was supposed to wear a slip with this dress. Also, that she was supposed to be at some sort of wedding-appropriate venue, have a groom, etc.
4) Hmmmm...maybe this is the lost bride from the Great Bridesmaid/Cheetah Incident of May '09. Which would actually explain a lot.
5) Project Amazing Bridezilla Race has been greenlit for another season and been picked up by VH-1! Probably in so small part thanks to the ongoing support and buzz that this very blog was able to generate with its millions* of readers.

(*multiplied by .000000000000000004)

Classy and Grassy

First we had skorts. Then tankinis.

You know what hybrid fashion phenomenon I think we're missing? You totally guessed it, Planet Hollywood. The grass bellbottom trend:



Perfect for that large cross-section of Hawaiian hula enthusiasts feeling nostalgic for the 70s. And look how well it goes with that bright pink peace sign belly shirt from Aeropostale's 1994 vintage collection and that Ricky's discount bin 'Rachel's Haircut' wig. Stunning.

This Look is Aces

Sometimes, I very much lament not being a quicker draw with my camera. This also has a lot to do with the fact that I really don't like stopping in the middle of the World's Busiest Sidewalk to take a picture while there are two dozen people walking 1/8 of an inch behind me. I know I'm the only person in Times Square who feels this way.

However, I wish I had eschewed ALL sense of public propriety and was able to bring you a better picture of this:



I will do my best to explain but I forewarn you that whatever I do will be inadequate. Because this man was walking down the street in 60 degree weather with:

Exhibit A) His right arm through the neckhole of his tank top which was perched at a jaunty angle on his shoulder only.

Exhibit B) Aside from whatever small portion of his torso was covered by Exhibit A, bare skin.
Exhibit B, Subsection 1) The word ACE tattooed Thug Style on his stomach. It's unclear if this was in reference to the bandage brand, Snoopy's high-flying alter-ego The Flying Ace, or obscure Season 5 American Idol contestant, Ace Young a work-in-progress masterpiece dedicated to 90s Swedish supergroup, Ace of Base. Though my guess, in corroboration with the rest of the evidence, is that he is in fact a rabid fan of the latter.

Exhibit C) All that navy blue you see? That is his underwear. All of it.

Exhibit D) Pants that were defying the laws of gravity and the decade but that were also managing to look like capris from the back. In other words, pants that were magic.

In conclusion, it's obvious that I have a responsibility to all of you for more accurate on-the-scene reporting, which really means better journalistic photography skills. Foot traffic be damned. I will not let you down again.

And please feel free to share your own interpretation of what Ace's ink could mean in the comments section below.

Say It With Swim Trunks

You're not going to believe this, but this window display is actually supposed to make me want to buy swim trunks:



Thanks, Quiksilver. I totes want to look like this guy:



Those tie-dyed board shorts really help to focus away from problem areas like stick legs, frosted hair and ambiguous sign language. See, the right arm looks like he's shooting a gun while the left arm looks like he's surrendering. It's a deep study on the alarmingly disaffected youth and their criminal vs. despairing tendencies.

Meanwhile, Mr. Garrett Parks is sporting "The Cashola:"



I think we can all agree that, in contrast, this whole look, from the hand gestures to the friendship bracelet to the neon trunks, is highly cohesive. Way to sell d-bag, Garrett. I hope this one makes the first page in your lookbook. You can tell from the way Mr. Jeremy Flores is looking at you that he agrees with me. Although, how much can you trust a man who is sporting all four Teletubbies colors in one article of clothing, really?

When Hipsters Go On Job Interviews

It only took 4 days of being locked in a jury deliberation room for me to have this realization without any hint of irony: it feels GOOD to be in Times Square again.

And I had to look no further than my train commute IN to create this commemorative TS re-entry blog post. So thank you, hipster guy.

A small disclaimer however: though I was completely stoked to be able to get back to my life (my life=this blog, let's face it), apparently my camera phone was still a little confused as it unfortunately didn't save the picture I clearly took this morning. Therefore, I'm going to have to ask you to use your imagination to recreate what I witnessed firsthand.

First, a very tall, very skinny male body. I'm talking like 6'5", 130 pounds. Got it? Good. From the ground up, some stylish black boots:



A pair of lovely brown dress pants:




And a nice pink button-up:



Unfortunately, that's about where Google Images stops helping me and I have to resort to my a-mazing art skills to help illustrate the rest. Because, we had this:



Ladies and gentlemen, I give you mullet of wardrobes: business on the bottom, party on the top.

Clearly, this fellow decided to stop living off of his parents' trust fund and make some of his own money to pay for his Williamsburg loft. That being said, a job interview is no reason he should be expected to stop expressing his individuality or displaying his dead grandmother's bronzed molars.

Duh.

Window Display, Interrupted

The tragedy of being stuck in a courtroom instead of reporting on Times Square continues.

But I did find this little gem in my hard drive:



This is an H&M window display. From 2009.

Let's examine the male outfit, shall we? Now I've discussed this tight pink pants phenomenon before. But unlaced Doc Martens, H&M? Really? That in combination with the green and blue Cosby sweater underneath the leather jacket and super jaunty pastel scarf just confuse me. What persona are we channeling here? Is it Sid Vicious? Basquiat? Huxtable? A chorus member from Rent? Though the blue skin is really bringing to mind The Beast from X-Men, who is generally naked and might not know any better when it comes to layering.

Meanwhile, the woman on the right has obviously just gotten into a heated brawl with a cast member from Cats. (Damn you, Bombalurina, I know it was you.) Neither her shirt nor her skirt made it out alive. But to console herself, she has purchased a lifetime membership to Hollywood Tans.

I fully expect to see these exquisite fashions being modeled on the streets of Times Square momentarily. Stay tuned...

Kids These Days

No, those are not the Jonas Brothers. (You can tell because the piercing screams of 3,400 11-year-old girls have not shattered my camera lens.) They are, however, two teenage boys dressed in matching fedoras, hoodies in varying shades of purple, and tight, tight pants. One of which is pink.

It's a clear sign that I'm old, but I find this very odd. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I grew up at a time when teenage boys were cool if:
a) they didn't shower
b) wore excessive amounts of flannel
c) exposed yards and yards of boxers from the top of their pants

I'm definitely not saying that was better. In fact, I'm a little jealous of all the teenage girls these days who get to deal with boys who at least bathe (unless they play sparkly vampires...in which case, maybe not so much). But what about those pants, ladies? Honestly, doesn't it bother you just a little that they're probably tighter than yours? I mean men, you know, should have some bits to squeeze in there.

But then again, I had a childhood that proudly displayed this as the ultimate symbol of manliness:


Sadly, I could not find a full-length picture, but his legs do in fact end in furry boots.

So maybe we've just come full circle after all.

Taking Things Literally

Wardrobe Choice of the Day:
Top: Cropped black leather jacket
Bottom: Leggings dyed to look like black acid-washed jeans detailed with silkscreened back pockets in a creamy hue.

Conclusion: If the bottom part of your garment is so thin that pockets quite literally need to be painted on, it does not constitute as pants.


Not pants...seriously, even Lady Gaga is like 'Whoa, girl.'

Keep it classy, Times Square!