You guys will never guess where I'm moving to. Fresno!

I know, I can't believe it either. Expect to see numerous posts lamenting on the horrors of flannel.

In the mean time, I would like to celebrate a few trends that I really wish would just die already.

First of all, can we talk about bubble hem dresses?



It's like they were trying to conserve thread, so they cut the number of seams in half. While that seems all nice and environmentally friendly, it makes you look like you're walking around in a dressed up trash bag.

Honestly, these dresses really break my heart more than when Dylan leaves Kelly and goes back to that bitch Brenda. I mean, I'm checking out a girl's style like, "Oooooh, where did she get that? I wonder if it comes in my size?" Then BAM! Upside down muffin wrapper. And they totally don't flow the way regular dresses do, and end up making you look like you're walking around with one of those cones they put on dogs after they're neutered tied around your waist.

Also, don't laugh, but I went to a goth club a few weeks ago.

Shut up, I was reliving my high school days.

I totally understand the need to rebel in a group conformity situation, so while many people shun the goth movement, I completely support it. However, let's not get crazy, kids. Black and blood red lipstick are NOT for everyone. Trust me. The thinner the lips, the lighter the shade. Please, for the love of all that is holy, if you have lips that a stick figure would be envious of, try a lighter shade. Oh, and since corsets are still involved in fashion areas other than the goth scene, ladies, do everyone a favor. If you're wearing a corset, LET IT DO ITS JOB.

I swear, if I ever see another woman wearing a BRA with a strapless corset, I will beat her senseless with someone's coffin shaped purse. It's okay, the "vampires" will clean up.

Oh, and since it's May, which pretty much means summer in California, we must discuss shorts. Specifically, pleated shorts.

I know right now, 75% of you just gasped in horror, but 25% of you just said, "But they look so crisp!"

No!

They don't!

They make you look paunchy and like a middle aged soccer mom (but not in the hot way). Really, I can't think of a single greater disservice you could do to your body in shorts form, unless, say, you got a pair of those ugly satin bloomers that someone decided to wear on stage one day. (Gwen Stefani, I'm looking at you). Really, pleated shorts aren't even acceptable if you're a pro-golfer, and that's saying a lot.

Its time to check out what is on the runways for spring and I promise I'm not going soft on this one. I'm just in love, people. I'm in love with...Jamie Carr.

Let me explain. Jamie is one of the advanced fashion design students at FIDM and she Debuted in the 2008 FIDM runway show that aired last weekend on KLCS Television here in Los Angeles area.

While I was severely disappointed with most of the designers featured in this show, including all of the men's wear designers, Jamie Carr's delightful line of cutesy nerdxcore made me swoon time and time again.



Once more photos become available, you can be sure I shall regale you with more of her adorably geeky couture. But meanwhile if you are not in LA and want to see the full Show, you can catch it via the FIDM webcast.


Now while we're speaking of men's wear... I've also recently discovered a designer whose men's wear collection I would actually LOVE to see my girlfriend in: Narciso Rodriguez.










My Girl happens to be quite a bit more casual than this, so this would never, ever happen, but a girl can dream.











But what really drew me to the Narciso Rodriguez line, was the minimalist color palette he used, which I adore since I have been a longtime fan of simple black and white, (save my current obsession with finding the perfect lemon yellow summer top) his nice, clean lines, and the androgyny he displays in his women's collection.

Narciso Rodriguez women's suiting collection is obviously tailored to the female silhouette, yet has a nice, not-so-subtle little genderfuck that makes me all tingly in the bikini area.

Had I a couture paycheck, I would have these on order yesterday.




The Narciso Rodriguez range doesn't stop there though.

Narciso Rodriguez's designs can also give you the classic "Tomboy In A Dress" look, which will let you simultaneously please your mother and not make you want to go drown yourself in the bathtub while doing so.

Heels optional, of course.

Oh, and finally, for the girls out there like me, who like to glam it up at every opportunity, I present to you my own personal idea of heaven:



And now, if you'll excuse me, it's obviously bordeaux-and-Nina-Simone time.

I'm sure some of you have heard by now, either via the Advocate or by your local newscast, that the United States is home to its first pregnant male (full article here). No, we're not talking an Arnold movie come to life, or cloning reaching new heights. This is the story of a female-to-male transsexual, post hormones and top surgery, legally male and legally married to his wife, who decided to have a child. Incidentally, his wife had had a hysterectomy some years ago, so they decided that he would be their own surrogate.



I won't delve in to the details of their decision to have a child or their experiences throughout the entire process. The Advocate and the author of the article above, written by the father-to-be himself, do a great job of that. I can't even say much about the discrimination they experienced, as I've witness plenty of discrimination towards trans people simply walking the street. Frankly, while I wish the world would expand their minds a little, or at least try to accept the things they don't understand instead of fearing them, I know that's quite idealistic. There will always be someone who voices their opinion through hatred.

My immediate thoughts on this article were from the point of view of someone who dates those that dance with gender. Butch, androgynous, genderqueer, and trans, I've dated them all. I've had to explain why, even though I had a boyfriend, I still identified as a lesbian. I've had to explain why, even though she looked like a boy, my girlfriend had no desire to be a boy. I've had to explain that my partner had shunned gender altogether, and identified as neither male nor female. I have gone from having a girlfriend to having a boyfriend and back again in a single relationship. I love to explore the nuances and fluidity of gender, even considering for a moment back in college whether or not I was, in fact, a feminine FTM.

In more intimate matters, I've become quite familiar with walking that narrow and ill-defined path that is sex with a trans individual. Some prefer certain terminology when it comes to their bodies. Some only liked to be touched in certain places, or certain ways. Some don't like to be touched at all. Some have body hatred, some embrace their parts, some just want to ignore the issue altogether. I've become somewhat adept at broaching these matters without actually bringing them up. I've acquired quite a bit of finesse about easing the blow when I accidentally cross some physical boundary, and I've been told I exude a quite comforting air that puts those body fears at ease.

But, I ask myself, what would I do in this situation? Would I be able to look at my husband of ten years, seeing his belly swollen with child, and not question it? Would I be able to hold his hand in the delivery room and still see him as my husband? I've always been a supporter of destroying gender lines, and I've rarely struggled with my partner's gender identity. But would this be the thing that I just wouldn't be able to understand? Did this man's partner struggle with her husband's gender after he started to show?

I've found myself, in recent years, wishing the trans community was more open to various gender expressions. However, upon reading this article, I've started to think that perhaps I'm the one that's not as open to such things as I thought. Sure, I've dated people all along the gender spectrum, but there are still more ways to explore and express gender out there. Even when you think you're completely open and accepting, there will always be someone out there that challenges your perceptions. It is at that moment that you decide whether to give up and set your limits, or to expand your mind just a little bit more. For each of the latter, the world is becoming a bigger, and better place.

Just a quick public service announcement to the lesbian population as a whole:

If I ever catch any of you wearing these leopard denim Bermuda bike shorts, I will personally hunt you down. That is all.

In related news, Paris says, "Watch out for crabs."

[PS-I know all of you are in tears about my brief post this week. It's been a crazy week. Next week, you're in for a doozy, so hold on to your granny panties!]

I know that all of you are bright kids with a reasonable amount of common sense, so there are some things that I feel I just don't need to tell you. For example, we all know that us full figured gals should not wear horizontal stripes. We all know that tapered mom jeans should not be worn by anyone still possessing the power to dress themselves. Of course, we all know that wearing black bras under white shirts make us look like white trash whores. Apparently, however, I put too much faith in y'all, because today, out in a public place, indoors, decidedly not at a sporting event of any kind, where other people would be exposed to them on purpose, I saw these:





Bicycle shorts, people. And really, these do not even do justice the horror that I experienced, these were purple and teal and yellow. Did I mention I was inside, in an office building, surrounded by people dressed not at all like Lance Armstrong? I was dumbfounded. I have seen plenty of things that had no business being brought back in to style, such as moccasins, bell bottoms, and neon. However, bringing back spandex was sure not just beyond my comprehension. Oh, but how wrong I appear to be. For, just last night, as I drove by hipster haven American Apparel, I saw this:


I know it's hard to see, since hi, I was taking a picture of glass, but this is just one tiny piece of the PURPLE SPANDEX as far as the eye can see. I'm pretty sure I even saw some gold lame in there. Did I fall in to a five year coma during which Flashdance threw up all over the world? How is this even acceptable? Let's not even talk about how roughly fifty percent of American women (myself included) would resemble poorly stuffed sausages in anything resembling these items. I won't even mention the cons of choosing to wear something that will do its damnedest to not only accentuate, but ridiculously over exaggerates every. single. body flaw you, or even anyone standing within a 10 foot radius of you may have. BUT, I have yet to mention the most deadly consequence of spandex...CAMEL TOE.

Even The Sharon cannot escape the camel toe. She might as well do some high kicks and shout, "I'm fifty!" People, really, let's reconsider this. The return of spandex can only mean one thing: The demise of the human race as we know it. Trust me, unlike spandex, I do not over exaggerate.


Speaking of athletic wear as outerwear, can we discuss coats for a moment? I know that it won't be a thing of concern in California of a while, but let me pretend for a moment that there are actually geographic locations outside of Los Angeles. Now, let me tell you, I am very skeptical about this statement that I am about to make, but even in my skepticism, I know it can be held true: Winter wear can be cute. Shocking, I know! But hey, haven't you ever seen a girl in a well fitting pea coat? It makes me all swoony just thinking about it. Let's not even mention a well-matched striped scarf. Excuse me, I think I'm having hot flashes.


That said, what in gay hell is going on with those 90's fleece lined ski jackets that I am seeing? Do those even exist? Who even sells those anymore?

Okay, I get it, they serve their purpose on the slopes, but I have a dear friend who went on a date with that exact jacket. Let me tell you, if I was on that date, I would have never gotten past, "soy chai latte, extra cinnamon, please," because I would be rendered speechless while staring at that light blue monstrosity. I'm sorry, I had no idea that the Starbucks in Glendale held a portal to the Midwest circa January 1994. Really, should I alert someone about that? I'm sure it would save my Midwestern stepmother a lot of money on airfare.

Oh, and my tardy note about the Oscars? Ladies. Please. If you're going to wear makeup, there is really no reason to apply it with a garden trowel.

For those of you that don't know me, this may come as a bit of a shock to you, but it's time I come out of the closet about this. Yes, that's right...I'm a country music fan. Sure, some of you may say, "That's not fashionable!" To that, I say, "Hello, Dolly Parton?!" Okay, maybe that's a bad example of fashion, but I digress. The reason I bring this up is, I have a new obsession. The obsession in question is a song, "Ready, Set, Don't Go" by...get this...Billy Ray Cyrus. Shut up, it's a really good song. But it wasn't that song that caught my eye. It was another song on his 2006 album called "I Want My Mullet Back." That got me thinking about the good ol' days of the mullet. But wait! It doesn't have to be the "good ol' days," because I'm a lesbian, and misguided lesbians everywhere are still sporting them when even Billy Ray has transformed in to this:

Ladies, really, if Billy Ray can get rid of his mullet, why can't us lesbians just let go? Just to help y'all out a little bit, I'm going to do a loving tribute, and hope that it will move you to tears, and you can play some commemorative music and light some candles while you trim your mudflap. Or, you know, realize how ridiculous you look and hightail it to Supercuts.

Since he's inspired this post, let's begin with a rememberance of the Billy Ray, aka The Backwoods Mullet.

Now, please don't get this confused with the Midwest Mullet.

As you can see, the main difference lies in the length of the sides. While the Backwoods Mullet allows for room for a bit of tug on the sides, the Midwest Mullet is very close cropped, often involving "steps" in the sides. For those of you confused as to what "steps" are, observe:

This brings me to a very valid point. HIPSTERS: NO, the mullet is not ironic. What is ironic is that you spend $200 to have a haircut that looks like it was done with a Flowbee in the basement of your brother's frat house sitting at the old dusty ping pong table, right next to the bucket that sits under the leak in the ceiling. Ugly is not the new cute, so stop paying your hairdresser in coke.

NOT ferosh.

Now, for those of you that are a little less adventurous, the mullet has not forgotten about you. For the middle aged lesbian, I present to you...The Softball Mullet:

The color is always mousy. The cut is not overtly mullet, but still mullet in principal. It's the mullet for those who don't want to make the "I HAVE A MULLET" statement. Really, ladies, we've all noticed.

Now, I haven't forgotten about the high femmes. I know you ladies like to slick on a little lipgloss, perhaps some electric blue eyeshadow. Maybe even some coral lipstick if it's a fancy night out. Not to worry, there is a mullet for you. Yup, the Femullet.

Feathers and curls, just like Farrah Fawcett. Every girl's dream.

Look, ladies, it was okay in the 70's. I don't think they made mirrors back then. We were all too coked up in the 80's to know better, and Aquanet was a cheap high. The south and midwest are all a decade behind, so they were able to just skate through in the 90's, but people. It is 2008. There is officially no excuse for mullet abuse.

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So, it's been 2008 for exactly 21 days. Most people have already broken nearly all of their New Year's resolutions, and have even forgone the "Next year, I'm going to..." promises. I, however, have not broken any of my New Year's resolutions. Why? Well, simple. Because I've made them for other people. Specifically, the rest of the lesbian community. That's right, lesbian community, your New Year's Resolutions for 2008 are to avoid all of the following fashion faux pas:

1. No. More. Skinny jeans.

Really, I have yet to see one person wear them correctly. Either you wear them all scrunched up with Vans, which make you look like you have chicken legs and MONSTER feet, not to mention almost everyone I've seen that wears this look hasn't bought a new pair of Vans in at LEAST 16 years. Having your toes stick out of your shoes is NOT cute unless you're wearing open toed shoes. If it's not the shoes, it's the boxers. No, really. BOXERS?! Boxers are super cute, but with skinny jeans? People, really. Let's think about this. Skinny jeans are skinny. Boxers are not. This creates a charming little boxer muffin top hanging out of the back of your pants since NO ONE WEARS A BELT ANYMORE. Muffin tops are not cute, I promise. Invest in a pair of briefs or bikinis. Even boxer briefs!

2. Athletic wear as club wear.

I understand if you go straight from the b-ball court to the Abbey on a Saturday afternoon (*cough*), but if I see another wife beater and pair of basketball shorts at 10pm on a Friday night at Here, especially when it's obvious that you took your sweet time doing your hair so that it looks just right with your hat, I may just go homicidal. Or homocidal.

3. Speaking of hats, I am way over the straight brim. What happened to the good old days, when you got a new hat, and rubber banded the brim for three days so that it'd have the perfect bend? I miss those days. The straight brim is just not cute. And at the very least, when you go for the drunken makeout, please take off your hat so you don't give us a black eye. Let's not even talk about leaving the stickers on.

4. Sunglasses at clubs. You don't look cool or mysterious. At best, you look pretentious. At worst, you look like you're hiding a bad case of pink eye.

5. The hipster neck scarf. Thankfully, this trend seems to be dying down, but really, you look like you're trying to match your outfit to Old Yeller. Golden Retrievers are cute and all, but I don't want to date one.

Femmes, you're not getting off scot free. Let's talk about three things you should have learned a LONG time ago.

1. Scrunchies.

Really? Really?! This is not the midwest circa 1987. BURN YOUR SCRUNCHIES. There is no excuse. None.

2. Pocketless jeans.

They make your ass look big. I'm not talking J-Lo big, I'm talking oversized lollypop on two tiny sticks big. Don't do it.

3. Dresses over pants. WHY is this still cute? I admit, I wear capris under my bathing suit cover up when I'm going to the beach, but come on. There's a limit. Choose one or the other. If the dress is not long enough to wear without pants, DON'T BUY IT. Hoochie.

All right, lesbians, you have been given by New Year's resolutions. Don't let me down.

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