Floaty Dresses

Adding this inflatable kayak dress (okay, it's a skirt, inspired by Hurricane Katrina blah blah blah) by Yael Mer to my fantasy dress closet, where it will hang alongside the balloon dress and the 3D bird dress and the bleeding markers dress and the color-it-in dress. In fact now that I think of it, I should mash them all together in a new category I am calling fantasy closet. Done! Poof!


The Thought Process

I should get a shirt that says the name of my college on it.
Everything Smith College officially sells is hideous.
I should design my own Smith shirt.
I should design my shirt to say "Smif"! Thus killing the college-allegiance and webcomic-reader-nerd birds with one stone!
Oh no, if I get a shirt that says SMIF in large block letters, everyone will think it stands for "single mom I'd fuck."
Never mind, I will not get a shirt that says the name of my college on it.


Diners Anonymous

My post from a few months ago about being treated poorly at Le Bernardin has, not entirely unsurprisingly, become the most-viewed page on this site. (Everyone loves a good healthy round of indignance.)

But it is one thing when you get cruddy service from a better-than-that restaurant for reasons that could, plausibly, be chalked up to your youth, and you are a food writer with a blogspot account. It's quite another thing entirely when you get the same inexplicably bad treatment and you are a restaurant reviewer for a major publication. Time Out Chicago's Julia Kramer (erudite, brilliant, encyclopedic in her food knowledge, and as it happens quite youthful) takes her subpar experience at Naha and spins it into an object lesson in the importance of anonymity in criticism.


We Care A Lot

Oh em eff gee, it's leggings with Care Bears on them.

Except these are not the Care Bears I knew and loved as a child, obsessively watching The Care Bears Movie II: A New Generation over and over. These Care Bears have naughty body parts and are drinking straight from the bottle and are smoking something that appears likely to make the Care Bear Stare a heavy-lidded one. This profanes my childhood and is a pair of leggings worn as pants at the same time. This article of clothing is the Beast.



Look, Commencement author J. Courtney Sullivan and publishers Knopf — the fact that I went to Smith does not actually make me more likely to want to read this Smith-located novel that you're pushing on me via a Facebook targeted ad. A pandering quote from Entertainment Weekly is certainly not the praise that's going to push me to the other side. Sealing that fate is the goddamn hyphen that you have used in place of an em-dash within the quote. You fail.