she's crafty

OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS THING IS GORGEOUS.

Hence the facial expression of total joy and amazement, obviously.

A Lady blogged it far better over here, but the short version is that she just saved me like $300, I have a gorgeous new leather bag, and my coworkers were amused by the reverberating squeeees of joy coming out of my office this afternoon when the bag arrived. I think the little dance I did down the hall (there may have been skipping involved) was more befuddling than amusing, but that's not the point.

stalkers

A Lady: Fuck. Off.

D: OH MY GOD THOSE LOOK LIKE THEY ARE IN YOUR HOME OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOW DID THIS HAPPEN

A Lady: Barneys. Warehouse. Sale. 70% off the discounted price.

D: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

DUDE.

OH MY SWEET JESUS. If I were standing up, I’d have fallen over.

I am just going to make incoherent allcaps noises over here.

Well, I bought $30 worth of Korres lip gloss today so.... WAIT THAT'S NOT THE SAME LEVEL OF GREATNESS AT ALL.

A Lady: Ahahaha. Fuckoff heels! I has them!

Sigh.

D: Ahem, shouldn't I be the one sighing with envy here?

A Lady: Oh, right.

D: So, as per request: the etymology of "fuckoff heels." It is pretty clearly Belgian Waffle, in my brain, but I think it's one of those concepts that most women will immediately understand.

A Lady: See, I've been using it for tech things for years. Such as: "fuckoff stereo."

D: Aha, yes.

A Lady: "A huge fuckoff tv.”

D: "That was one spectacular fuckoff sandwich."

A Lady: Ehhhhhhhh. I object!

D: Cmon. You know that I, of all people, will say "fuckoff sandwich" in the most highly approving manner.

A Lady: There has to be intent to intimidate/proclaim awesomeness.

D: Well, maybe the fuckoff sandwich is HUGE and also you are REALLY hungry.

A Lady: But is it putting other people in awe? I feel like that's the necessary bit. And I have never been in awe of a sandwich. (Have I told you about the pancake-eating competition?)

D: (Ooh no do tell.)

A Lady: (Everyone at brunch, dudes included, ordered the triple stack of plate-sized pancakes.)

D: (Ow Jesus my stomach hurts at the thought.)

A Lady: (The dudes were idiots and got chocolate chips. My friend and I got fruit ones. So it was a race. And I won, hands down. Ate the whole plate in, um, 90 seconds.)

D: (GODDAMN. I am impressed. And a little horrified, so basically DOUBLY impressed.)

A Lady: So you see why the idea of fuckoff food is like, eh.

D: Well, you're you. Meanwhile, I have been in serious awe of food on many occasions. Now I am on a quest for a fuckoff sandwich for illustratory purposes.

A Lady: Ahem, D, back to fuckoff heels. They usually involve some kind of a platform, yes?

D: Note: I think the fuckoff heel is for other ladies.

A Lady: Really? Oh, I wear them for both: dudes, ladies, you can all fuck off.

D: Well, how many straight dudes do you know that would look at the shoe and appreciate it as anything other than "pretty!"?

I mean, everyone can fuck off, but ladies Get It.

A Lady: Naw, I mean, they're sexy shoes, but they make you tall and you can stomp in them.

D: Ah, right-o. So fuckoff heels are 1) tall, and 2) stompy.

I don't feel that a plain black leather pump, no matter how tall it makes me, is really a fuckoff heel, though. Like, if it's pretty much unquestionably work-appropriate, it's not fuckoff.

A Lady: Also, the black pump can tip into fuckme shoes pretty easily.

I wonder if the difference resides in the platform. I feel like if it's sold at Anthropologie, it's not gonna be fuckoff, knaamean?

D: Mmhmm.

A Lady: They have to be stompy.

D: Do they have to be? Or is that just a common thing? Because sometimes there's a difference between a stomp and strut shoe, but I think I have strut shoes that are fuckoff.

A Lady: Hmm. Ok, my verb of choice might be stalk. Catwalk-style.

D: Oooooooh, yes.

Can wedges be fuckoff?

I'd think a fuckoff wedge would have to be 5", or it would just go clunky.

A Lady: There has to be some kind of angle or a tapering.

D: …something that looks just slightly precarious, which makes it all the more fuckoff that one is stalking in them.

A Lady: Exactly.

D: Under no circumstances can one of those pencil-thin stilettos be a fuckoff heel. You cannot stalk in those heels. You can slink, maybe, but not stalk.

A Lady: Yeah, those are totally fuckme territory.

D: Yup. A fuckme heel is meant for minimal walking, yet is also seen in the wild at ill-advised dance clubs. Poor choice, ladies!

A Lady: That's why they can't dance!

D: Also most of the population at those clubs is not known for good decision-making.

cinematic

D: Why yes, I did get tipsy this month at an art opening & decide to go see "Burlesque" by myself.

A Lady: I can't believe you went to “Burlesque” drunk, alone.
I mean, I can.
But: amazing.

D: Ahemmm. Not drunk, tipsy. The art opening ran out of booze before I could get properly drunk.

A Lady: Was it everything I'm hoping it will be?

D: If you hope for a bastard child of “Showgirls”, “Cabaret”, and “Moulin Rouge”.... then YES.
Sequins, bad makeup, tits, and hilarity.

A Lady: OMFG. I need that in my life.

D: I still cannot believe that Alan Cumming was convinced to do that movie.
Also, Cher's face Does. Not. Move.

A Lady: Wait wait wait. Cumming's in it?

D: I KNOW
YES I THOUGHT I WAS SEEING THINGS
BUT HE'S IN IT.

A Lady: Must. See. Now.

D: I believe his first line is "I should wash your mouth out with Jaegermeister for that.”

A Lady: Holy shit, how did I not know that?

D: Best-kept secret of that movie, I swear.
Oh! And Cher has a line like "Did you tell him about the tattoo on my ass?"

Also all the girls in the movie who are not Xtina/Veronica Mars (she’s the Gina Gershon) look like Jessica Simpson.
EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

Dude, this movie was so worth the $4.

socially clumsy

I can't argue with A Lady on this. She notes:

"D, your dating life is like the social interaction equivalent of a montage of people walking into doors."

book club

It's worth noting that the Trollops' current reading list is Edna Woolman Chase's Always in Vogue and Jay-Z's Decoded. We're well-rounded.

trollops' holiday woes

Email from A Lady:

"I realized today you and I have opposite approaches to overeating: you put on clothing that works around* the offending body part. I put on clothing that I fit into ten pounds ago in order to remind myself to not eat everything in sight. BUT there is strategy involved: jeans where the waistband is so tight that I’m desperately uncomfortable and in a little pain, but a big sweater over it so as not to offend anyone.

It’s like a hair shirt in service of vanity instead of divinity."

*... that is to say that I'm currently wearing the hell out of my loose shift dresses and the two pairs of pants that button.

lippy

D: I have decided that I need a good coral lipstick.

A Lady: Ooh yes you do.

D: And a good violet gloss.

A Lady: ?

D: Not pastel-violet... plum? Something purple-y.

A Lady: .

D: I got into a red rut.

A Lady: .

D: I am taking that “.” as endorsement of this plan, whether you meant it as such or no.

A Lady: Uh huh.
They make berry colors for a reason. S'all I'm sayin’.

D: (My intern is going to come into my office any minute and see me frantically scanning Sephora. This will not surprise anyone.)
I kind of want to go play with this in Audacious Violet.

A Lady: EW. Dude.
Someone has to say it.

D: You never know! When I go play at Sephora, I will take photos. One of us will be proven right.
Hopefully it will be me.

A Lady: .
I know what this will look like. It will look like 1994.

D: Sssssssssh. Naysayer.

A Lady: YOU KNOW I AM RIGHT.

D: I will try it out! I am not saying I'm buying it sight unseen or anything.
…maybe more like a purple-y lipstain?

A Lady: Like a popsicle? or a cadaver? NO.

D: Popsicle.

A Lady: No one wants purple popsicle mouth. Cherry, yes. Grape, no.

D: Damn you, naysayer.

(later)

D: Photographic evidence, L! The selection at Sephora was a wee bit limited, but I fucked off from work this week for a trip over there with a camera.

NARS Shrinagar

Sephora Crush + Dazzling Violet gloss

NARS Bougainville

First of all, yes, I am obviously somewhat lipstick-impaired. Lipstick application is one of those girl-skills that I never acquired.

And second of, I only cropped the photos, no color correction/retouching. I am vain but not a liar.

A Lady: no.

D: Fuck you. I still think I've proven that yes, one can wear purple lips in real life.

A Lady: WRONG.

D: NAYSAYER!
Sigh. Ok, internet. Back me up here. These three purple lip experiments were not unsuccessful, right? Comment and tell me you're on my side.

Ed: FINE. No one has opinions. Way to make us feel alone and unloved, internet. (Setting aside the fact that we are often absent and neglectful and... oh, fuck it. I bought some purple gloss. A Lady can deal with it.)