The train took me on a ride today!
Quite literally, it took me on a ride to work, so that’s cool. But if we’re going the metaphoric route, it also “took” me on “a” “ride”.
I’m first rewarded by seeing the body image campaign #ImNoAngel, wrapped around my train like the lacy black bras displayed on it. Women of all shapes and sizes, smiling and working it. It pumped me up, who doesn’t like to be reminded that they’re awesome even if they aren’t Victoria Secret sized (and those Angels are just as sexy in their bodies. I’m not shaming skinny.)
A few seconds after stepping onto the train, I hear the far away cries of a crazy. I roll my eyes, turn Ben Howard up and dive deeper into The Handmaid’s Tale (the irony of this book selection should hit shortly). My morning was going too well for crazy. But then… a few words pricked my interest. What was he yelling about? Did he need money? Was he a down and out old vet? No. He was a man. Dressed nicely. And saying….
Mother’s Day is Sunday, if you’re real man…if you love your momma….stand up today and give your seat to a lovely woman or mother nearby!
He said it over and over. There was only one man near me, sitting. Did he stand? Nope. He didn’t have earbuds in either, he heard everything. But that’s okay. Because, while this stranger was trying to enlighten men for a moment, he actually caused something else.
In the morning of women’s self confidence came a train full of women, united in the fact that even for one train ride these douchebags wouldn’t stand up. We smiled at each other. We giggled. We rolled our eyes playfully. It didn’t matter that I didn’t get a seat, I connected with a woman. I didn’t spend my time judging a girl for her outfit. Beating myself up because the girl next to me was gorgeous and thin. Constantly eyeing myself in the reflection of the window, are my bangs okay? Do I look good? Should I suck in? I got to experience just one moment of kumbaya towards women, pulsing through the train car like the nice cool a/c.
It was awesome.
Oh, and for the record, one man did stand up and give his seat. He wins life today. All the others? I don’t wish you harm, your douchebaggery waves like a flag and it’ll attract exactly what it promotes.
Good day, sirs. I SAID GOOD DAY.
Alright. We know ‘the dress’. #dressgate. What color do you see? OH MY GOD I DON’T SEE WHAT YOU SEE. WHAT DOES THE WORLD EVEN MEAN?
I’m pretty sure I’m accurately describing at least 3/4 of the population yesterday.
The snapchats passed back and forth from my friend, Erin, and I were of Cloverfield level terror and cinematography.
Facebook’s face melted.
Nobody trusted anyone ever again.
But while there are plenty of theories going around regarding “science” and “logic” and “facts”…I have a theory of my own.
I know the government thought it was being coy. But their plot is as clear as that dress is blue. And that was the point, wasn’t it?
You know those scenes in movies when someone says, “We didn’t see that guy shoot the other guy, right? We didn’t see it, riiiiight?” and the other guy responds, “Oh right…yeah…we didn’t see nuh’in.”
The government of the Unite States of America just had 75% of the dress viewing population mentally respond with, “we didn’t see nuh’in.”
The gov tells you that dress is white and gold? Why question it? Your mind is so easily moldable you might as well envision the president maniacally laughing in his oval (do you see oval or do you see square?) office.
But i see both! Good for you, you’re one step closer to escaping the nation size, mind controlled army the government is slowly forming. As you long as you question everything always for the rest of your life and never trust another form of anything, you’re fine. Phew, right?
Those of you who see only gold and white? Well…have fun being a mindless human drone. And don’t find comfort in the fact that maybe you’ll be fighting for a good cause, the gov doesn’t need human bodies for a good cause- they need you for world domination. But you know what? You won’t even know. Key word, mindless. I’ll have the hardest time of all.
I’m now being pit against the government and its mindless (you) army. Hunger Games, Divergent, Saved by the Bell…it’s all prepared me for this moment. And I won’t hesitate going Black&Blue all over your asses.
Hear that GOVERNMENT??? I’m immune to your mind games. I’m the Katniss wearing a blue dress pin that everyone else sees as gold. My name will be whispered across the plains and dress signs will appear spray painted blue (or gold?) on buildings abandoned by all the mindless white/gold people.
I’ll lose friends. My spouse is dead to me. Luckily, my daughter is too young to even know what color is so she’s safe for now.
I didn’t know last night was the turn of the revolution. I’m sure nobody saw it would come in the form of an ugly ass dress. But we don’t make the rules, we just argue over what color they are.
Let me preface this post by saying I’ve been up since 5am…and right before that, I was up at 330am. Go inside yourself for a moment and feel what that must feel like. May I proceed?
Come on, people! They’re elevators! You’ve literally encountered them your whole life (unless of course you didn’t and to that I say, Welcome to America!). How do not understand the deft maneuvering of elevator file-ins?
There is nothing worse than knowing exactly where you should be so that you’re adequately out of the way, only to ram smack into the back of someone because they chose the worst spot ever. Rage…rage that has absolutely nothing to do with the 330/5am thing….rage that has nothing to do with the woman taking up an entire pole on the train like her shift at Wiggles just started…rage that has nothing to do with the natural phenomenon of turning into a human revolving door every day so that you long for the tessellated perfection of filing into an elevator with like minded adults.
To you, man with the large headphones who stood in the dumbest place ever on the elevator this morning, I hope you never get challenged to a game of Tetris- you failed life’s challenge and stacked the long blocks one on top of the other.
THIS IS A REAL THING!
Oh, you need a preface. Right.
Frankie, my beloved, loads up a toilet paper roll with the flap hanging out in the back. Now, imagine a world where someone installs your dispenser across from the toilet instead of next to it. Got it in your head? Good. You can go ahead and imagine what an extra 1.5 inches would mean for someone sitting on the toilet swiping to grasp the flap that’s hanging out in the back.
If you want an extra fun picture…imagine this while I was 8 months pregnant. I might have squished Corina down a few inches with how often I had to fight to grab the flap.
I try and explain this to Frankie but he doesn’t seem to understand the logic.
And then this happened.
This changes everything.
Actually, it probably doesn’t. And I don’t blame him, the last thing I want to think about is where the flap on my TP is. But I sit to relieve myself WAY more than he does, so the second I reach for the paper and realize I’ll have to play this game:
It kills my soul a little.
And it’s not just the reaching. I reach, swipe, reach, swipe, grab hold of the flap, get excited, pull, only get one square. Back to reaching, swiping, excited I grasped the flap and then put too much strength in it so I yank the dispenser off…unroll an entire roll….fling the holder across the bathroom….defeated.
This game I play a lot. It probably takes up AT LEAST 25 minutes a week. A WEEK. Do you know what I could with an extra 25 minutes a week?
Mayhap not reach for toilet paper and play this damn game?
I’ll stand by while your head explodes from so much awesome fashion.
The Emmy’s!!!! I was giddy as a school girl last night, watching all that fashion and talent struttin’ its stuff.
It wasn’t 2 minutes in that I already had a page full of notes on some really stellar pieces.
Shall we begin? *twirls mustache*
In The Red of Night
It was like a couture blood bath on the red carpet last night. Too much? Well too bad! Red was splashed and dashed all over the place and my blood boiled with excitement. Very few red dreads failed to please, but I put some of the my favorites/interesting choices above. You had the classic lines like Dreyfus, Klum and Aduba- but Driver drove it home with an embellished neckline and classic cut. Hendricks went a bit garish in my opinion, I didn’t think so seeing her on the TV, but the photos don’t present the fabric well. Cuoco grew on me, the 80’s tule twist wasn’t a big bang for me in the beginning but it fits her well. January took it to new level in a vintage inspired number, keeping it interesting but high fashion classic. Claire….well, the thought is what counts but no ugly crying over it, k?
These weren’t….the worrrrrrst picks…but….I mean…..aren’t they like….neat? That’s the only thing I can say about them. I don’t like them, I don’t not like them…..But the lines….and uh…the symmetry…and like….stuff….meh.
Let’s Paint The Town! Or The Dress!
Nothing says dress like….paint? *squinty eyes* Seems like a common theme last night showed celeb’s artsy fartsy side with painting inspired garb. Each dress was a canvas and while some took to the paint look well…others just looked…like doctor office decor. Bowen’s dress was nice, the picture not so much- this painting doesn’t like blowing in the wind. Dockery didn’t make a mockery out of modern lines and block colors, the dress isn’t my favorite but it’s easy on the eyes. Taissa Farmiga sharpened the competition with a sketched out bodice number that I happened to love, pencil this one in for a favorite. And uh, annoying aunt from Breaking Bad? You’re breaking my heart with that stock painting number.
So Many Dresses, Amiwhite?
I’m not a fan of white, one wrong shadow and you’re looking rather….unfortunate. But with spanx and a stylist, last night proved the color a worthy one. From pant suits to fringe to glittering crystals, this color choice competes with the best of the red. But that last lil lady in the lineup- boom. That dress is straight up perfection.
Tip My Hat To The Top 5:
Laaaaaarvs me these babies. The lines, the cuts, the fabrics, the women inside the fabrics. GAH! I just want to touch them but not in a creepy way….you know what, maybe even creepy, because these dresses bring out something weird and carnal in me. What do you think? You like ’em?
Sigh. You’re Dress Choice and List Consequence.
And now….for the best part…..BEST DRESSED!!!!
Lizzy Caplan. Mmmm mmmm mmmm. It was tough but the moment I saw this gazelle of an actress, one of my favs on screen ladies, grace the carpet with her perfectly clad body- I knew she was mine to have. Creepy again? K. I’ll stop. But just look at her in all the glory of cut out bodices and perfectly pooling hems. You’re a vision, my dear. Now strip out of that ensemble and get back to experimenting with the horizontal tango.
There were so many choices last night that I didn’t even get to touch on some of them, but if you want to review what I missed just click here.