If you must know…I’m shallow at times.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

It’s Day 4 on the couch and I’m not getting any better. I’m moving into the phase of my sickness that I refer to as “the mysterious Andy Kaufman cough” or the “girl in the hospital on some christmas special who is about to die of some generic coughing disease but instead has a christmas miracle, brought on by Alf or a donkey.”

I like to watch any kind of personal makeover show but I am SICK of the bloated unstylish Americans that they insist on making over. I realize the point is to see a drastic change, but these ninny’s never seem to care that stylists we could all never get an appointment with in Beverly Hills are doing their hair…they don’t seem to care that they just got a new wardrobe of mid-level designer stuff for free and they definitely will ruin their manicure within a day.

I wish they could make over people who want to be stylish, who even have “their own style” but are just invited to step it up, in a way that when you watch the show you go, “I fully trust that Marsha will continue to wear that Kenneth Cole Reaction jacket and that when she goes out at night, she will use a round brush to acheive that look.”

Instead I see dumpy, ungrateful people who give the gays that surround them weird lookds. I saw a woman who had a husband who was balding on top with a long. gray, Grateful Dead fans wouldn’t even touch it, ponytail. He had back hair and a long beard. He wore stained inside out shirts.

His gray hair was dyed back to it’s natrual brown, no more weird beard or ponytail madness…his back hair gone and he had on a normal outfit. And this beyotch made a face and said…”It’s different.”. It’s different? And that’s bad? Your husband looked like a Muppet and not in a good way!

This other woman won’t stop wearing see-through tank tops even though she’s about 80 pounds overweight. Her family is more distraught over this than some of the families who suffer their heroin addicted sons on Intervention. People were throwing really cute dresses at this woman with great accessories and she doesn’t like “how the necklace hangs”. What should a necklace do? Blast off? She doesn’t like dresses with patterns because it looks like The Brady Bunch. Trust me, it didn’t. It looked like a Tuesday in the Hamptons. It was a nice dress. And she didn’t want her 8 inches of dead ends cut off.

I like to bother Neil when he’s at work with things of this nature. He has since gotten used to the fact that I don’t have a traditional job anymore and that even though we work for the same company, I get to work from home. He gets to make more $$ so jokes on me. But I told him that I’d fear if he were on this show he’d pick out the worst outfits for me. He was offended in this fake example of a thing that will never happen.

I guess I don’t trust him because he hates my hats and doesn’t understand my knickers with boots obsession. But what made me worry was that we had dinner last week and the restaurant was super pretty and all Christmas-ed out and the wreath had beautiful white lights on it and some red fabric and the tiniest little leaopard print ribbon made of velvet.I said, “Animal print on Christmas stuff? That is a cute choice and color and texture wise looks sooo good.”

He was horrified at me and visions of our future home with a Zebra style couch danced in his head…but it’s not like that. He was being stubborn. Of course animal patterns can be cheese but it’s also a classic patten, like Burberry plaid and when used sparingly and in a suprising place, it’s cute. He insisted that I was wrong. And I insisted that I was right and worse, I was right with no proof, but FELT right because I think I have a good eye and I read Lucky and IN Style and Vogue.

My friend Ally always eyes me crooked when I dress up because I don’t wear heels with nice outfits. She loves her shoes and this is one thing we can never bond over. It must be painful for her but she forgives me. And thus I forgive Neil, the most wrong person on Earth, for not understanding how leopard print can jazz up a wreath.

Please. Get me off this couch.


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