This past weekend, three of Tinsletown’s loveliest ladies were all seen sporting a little bit of bare midriff while walking the red (err… orange?) carpet. This bit of belly is different from the crop tops of a couple summers past. It’s not so much belly button as it is rib cage. It’s the teeniest little peek-a-boo of skin that is both sexy and playful. It’s less Christina Aguilera Genie in a Bottle and a bit more Gidget Goes Hawaiian. And for anyone who was ever a bit self conscious about showing some torso, don’t worry. This is much more wearable and will keep that fearsome FUPA under wraps.
While some are referring to these as “bralettes” that’s not quite the right term. (Did I not already school you in bralettes?). I would consider these to be cropped bustier tops. You’ll have much more luck when searching using those terms. The trick to this look is pairing your teeny top with a high waisted skirt or slacks. That way your outfit will read “le petite coquette” rather than “big dirty whore.”
I try and practice an insane amount of self control. And for the most part, I remain cool as a cucumber, but every now and then I just want to scream at people, dropkick inanimate objects, and punch the hell out of a pillow. That is when it is truly necessary to have a playlist full of songs as angry as I am. (A punching bag never hurt either).
Conveniently, this playlist doubles as a fantastic workout playlist… and everyone knows that looking good is the best revenge.
P.S. I do not in any way, shape, or form, condone violence (except against pillows). There are far more clever ways to take out your frustrations.
So, let’s say you’re not into the love fest that is Valentine’s Day. Nothing wrong with that (and you are not alone, my friend). Some of my most fun Valentine’s Days were not spent lamenting love, but cutting loose with friends instead. Whether that included cupcakes and sappy rom-com’s at home or dancing on tables at Cipriani, a playlist was needed. I found it much easier than expected to compile a list of songs that will have love as the furthest thing from your mind.
Hey Nicki? Johnny 5 called… he wants his look back. I should have figured the opening performance would set the tone for this year’s American Music Awards. The tone being one big hot shiny mess. I should have changed the channel… I should have looked away, but alas, I could not. I’ve had about enough of Nicki’s wacky get ups. I’m on team Johnny 5. What about you?
The AMA’s weren’t all bad though. Here are five lovely ladies sporting what was most certainly the trend of the evening- metallics. Sadly, this is about where the “good” ends and the eye gouging begins.
Watching the AMA’s only confirmed the fact that I might need to relocate to a tropical island– or at least place where it takes a lot more talent and several fewer sparkly bra tops to get ahead.
Exhibits A, B, and B 1/2. It pains me to see Christina Aguilera look like… well, that. What happened to that little Genie in a Bottle of yore? It also pains me to see the mother of two wearing a sequin covered costume that may or may not have belonged to Britney Spears circa 1999. Those jewel encrusted bra cups have got to be a breast feeding safety hazard. Am I right? Let’s not even get into the incestuousness of Pitbull’s pelvic grinding performance with J. Lo followed up by another performance with her ex-hubby Marc Anthony and sequin braziered fly girls. Ew. And as for Adam Lambert, well, I really just wanted to throw him in so I could coin his new nickname, “Glambert.” You’re welcome.
Let’s get it together, America. We’re better than this. All that glitters is not gold.
P.S. Ending the show with Hasselhoff in his manties? Classy touch.
It has come to my attention that there are two very distinct times of year when a lot of hearts are broken and left shattered. One of those times would be late spring, heading into summer- which is quite self explanatory (um, bikini clad beach babes?). The other is right around this time of year during the holidays. One would think that as the temperatures drop, you’d want a warm body to keep you company, but when you think about it, the holidays put quite a bit of pressure on relationships. There are presents to be bought, families to be met, and trips to be taken. During the make or break time in fledgling relationships, some will flourish while others will fail. Don’t count your tears though… count the dollars you’ll be saving by not buying that bum a gift!
While some studies suggest a good cry isn’t healthy, I like to wallow in my pain. So if you’re an emotional cutter like me, here’s a playlist that will help you do just that.