Tag Archives: fashion

Terrible Things are Happening in the World, So I’m Going to Complain About a Skirt.

I’m back!  I just needed to take a brief hiatus so I could collect my thoughts, reevaluate my life, and do some real soul searching. PFFFFFFFFT   Yeah right, I squandered these last few months watching  Duran Duran videos all by myself.  That is only a slight exaggeration. While I did spend an inordinate amount of time ogling Duran Duran, a lots of things happened these past few months.

Let’s see!  I got a tattoo.  It is a seagull loteria card, and it’s rad, and it didn’t hurt, and I still like to stare at it and rub it lovingly.  My parents do not like it, but they have begrudgingly accepted it.  I mean they have to, as I am a 31 year old woman (Oh yeah!  I forgot!  I had a Soft Rock birthday since my last post.  I am year older now!  Listen to this playlist! Seriously listen to it, it is so good.)



Anyway, I am a 31 year old woman and I can tattoo whatever creatures on my body that I want, AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME.  The only one of my family members that likes my seagull is my oldest sister Lisa.  My other sister Erica laments that it is too large and that when I wear formal gowns it will look declasse.  This is a pretty valid concern though, because I am constantly going to balls and galas, et al. Not a weekend goes by where I am not at the Governor’s Mansion or a high school dance.  My favorite reaction was from my mother, who said, “People always asked me if I ever thought  you’d get a tattoo, and I always said no.  You’ve made me a liar.”  HAAAAAAA! SO DRAMATIC.

Y’all, Truman turned two!  WHAT?!?  We celebrated by doing a whole shit ton of nothing, but he had a great day anyway.   Almost everyday is a great day when you’re two years old.  He is growing and developing!  He is talking more every day and has started Spanish lessons.  His teacher said he is very attentive and makes attempts to say the words.  I am proud of that little bugger!

Just look at that little scamp.

Just look at this little scamp.

We didn’t really do anything for Truman’s birthday because we went on a family vacation a couple days later.  Or, rather, we intended too.  First we had to deal with The Great Evans Passport Debacle of 2013.  I don’t really feel like talking about it, because I am still pissed about it, but I will give you the gist.  We were all packed and ready to leave, when the night before we couldn’t find our passports.  The only passport we could find was Truman’s.  We turned our filthy house upside to find those bastards.  To this goddamned day I do not know where our original passports are.   It was quite the ordeal.  I would like to thank my parents, Expedia, and the Houston Passport Agency for getting us to Mexico.  ::round of angry yet enthusiastic applause::

Mexico was awesome.  Duh.  We went to an all-inclusive resort.  Nothing too exciting, but excellent all the same.  It was mad chill.  I went zip-lining, snorkeling, and ate at buffets a lot.  I got sick twice! I also managed to skin both of my elbows on a water slide.  So you know, memories that will last a life time.  Really though, I had a lovely time with my family and Truman loved every minute of it.




But let’s get to the real reason I came here–to complain about something really trifling.  I am sorry, just HAVE to bitch about this.  Right then, so let the bitching commence!  Okay, so I had based my entire fall/winter look on this one black skirt, and had already bought shirts to complement it and everything. I even got my hair cut based around this fucking skirt.  I was planning for a 60’s French girly tomboy look, like my all time fashion icon, Jean Seberg.  It gave me a super valid excuse to buy even more stripey Bretonesque shirts.  It was going to be a welcome change from my scruffy summer look of jorts and t-shirts.

Who wouldn’t want to emulate her?

Anyway, so I go to Target yesterday to buy said skirt, and I CAN’T FIND IT ANYWHERE.  It’s like it NEVER EXISTED.  But, I know that it wasn’t a figmentof my imagination because I had previously purchased the same skirt in grey.  Why did I buy it in grey, instead of the more useful black?  I don’t know, because I am dumb.

This skirt is described as short and flippy, and that is just what I had in mind.  I imagined myself in my little black flippy skirt and stripey shirt, skipping down the sidewalk, carrying a picnic basket, and wearing a giant bow on my head.  I was to be the cutest bitch since Marlo Thomas in That Girl. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooO, Target screwed me over! I still managed to spend almost $100 dollars yesterday, because in a fit of madness I purchased, this, and some other random shit.

I know know, it is seriously the lamest thing to be mad about ever.  Especially since it is just a basic black skater skirt that you can get almost anywhere. They are very popular this season.  Since I started writing this, I have already found several adequate replacements.  I even found a stripey one, and a flirty lil’ denim one. It took me literally five minutes to find all of these skirts.  I spent more time moping about the stupid thing than I did googling it.  IN CLOSING, I am going to be so cute this fall y’all!  Everything is fine and wonderful!  The world is great!  I will try to start writing more!  Here is an entire episode of Charmed Lives, a Who’s the Boss spin-off featuring Fran Drescher.  Enjoy!

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Glamour, Dahlink

Last night while I was eating Mini Chewy Sweettarts and dicking around on Facebook instead of getting my 8 hours in (sleep is essential to having nice skin y’all!) my friend Megan over at Mean Baby asked in a group, “WHAT DO I WANT TO BE WHEN I GROW UP?”.  That is a super valid question! I answered, “When you find out, let me know, because I sure as hell don’t know.”, copious commas and all .  But then I thought about it for like thirty seconds and it struck me like a beautiful bolt of lightning, when I grow up, I WANT TO BE EVA GABOR.

Eva Gabor is all that is elegance, charm, and pizzazz.  She was gorgeous, clever and got to wear things like this EVERYDAY:



Let’s take a quick peek at Eva at her best:

Eva was so lovely and charismatic as Lisa on Green Acres, I remembered being enthralled with her whenever I caught reruns of it on Nick at Nite.


But let’s us not forget, Zsa Zsa was no slouch either.

My heart  will always belong to the ~bewitching~ Eva, if only for her voice work on the Aristocats and Rescuers alone.  Man, the Gabor sisters were really something.  Between the three of them, (I didn’t forget you Magda!) they had 20 husbands.  20 HUSBANDS.  The Gabor sisters had just that much love to give.

In closing, as I mature, my goal is to be more like Eva Gabor, so don’t be surprised if I start calling everyone darling and wearing floor length evening gowns everywhere I go.  I am already well on my way, last Sunday while I was at brunch with my Beautiful and Interesting Lady Friends, I plopped a couple of Starbursts into my mimosa. IT’S GLAMOUR, DAHLINK!

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My Babies

Periodically, I go through my wardrobe (pile of clothes) and think to myself, “Letty, perchance it’s time to grow up.  You are 30 now, practically a woman, maybe it’s about time you stop dressing like a 13 year old boy from 1982. ( Or like the kid who wants Blue Oyster Cult tickets in Fast Times at Ridgemont High)”  But then I look at all the magnificence lying before me.  I have THE BEST T-SHIRTS in the ENTIRE WORLD.  The collection of shirts that I have amassed bring a smile to my face, and make me feel like a real cool dude.  My t-shirts are so great they own their  own 1977 Pontiac Trans-Am. T-Top of course, you know because T-SHIRTS. Get it?  OH SHIT.

Here is a list of my t-shirts from memory (and I know I totally forgot some): I have 4 Foreigner shirts, 2 Bryan Adams, 2 Ted Nugent, 1 Rod Stewart, 2 Quiet Riot, 1 Ozzy Osbourne, 1 Jerry Reed/Smokey & The Bandit shirt, 2 ZZ Top, 1 Bob Seger,1 Curtis Knight Band, 1 Van Halen, 2 Billy Squier, 1 Rolling Stones, 1 David Bowie, 1 Led Zeppelin, and 1 Who, and these are all vintage concert tees.  My Bowie one is for his 1978 World Tour.  I only have two reproductions, my Iggy Pop & The Stooges, and my T. Rex.  In general,  I am a snobby bitch that turns her nose up at repros (see how terrible I am?), but I can make an exception for excellence. May I suggest that if you want to DIY your shirt and cut it up so you can show off your clavicle, buy a reproduction or I will find you and claw out your eyes for ruining the sanctity of a shirt that has lived longer than you. I am considering buying a Jarvis Cocker shirt on eBay though, just so I can have him close to my breasts.

Guys, I have so many great shirts and some of them are pretty valuable.  I could really go on about it for days and days. I mean, I didn’t even GO INTO my shirts that aren’t concert tees, but let’s be honest, this is a pretty dull topic. So, let’s get to the good stuff–pictures of me in a few of my sweetass shirts.Pump up the “Stranglehold” and let’s begin.

About to get eliminated in my ZZ Top Eliminator shirt

There is a better picture of me somewhere wearing this shirt in the Paris airport, but I can’t find it.

Harley Davidson, that turn you on? ::Kelly Leak voice::

I had enough Foreigner shirts (plus one Van Halen) to cloth my entire karaoke team for my powerhouse performance of “Jukebox Hero”

I thought this was the most appropriate shirt to wear to the gun range.

This is one of my favorites, my Boris Vallejo shirt. I wear it for good luck and for family gatherings.

Now, I have to give a shout out to a fallen soldier.  One of my greatest shirts, a Molly Hatchet shirt featuring  Frank Frazetta artwork, was stolen away from me and I still haven’t gotten over it.  I let a friend borrow it, which is rare because I am weirdly protective of my shirts, and some bitch stole it out of his bag when he was sleeping.  So sad.  My friend still feels very guilty about it, but I have since (almost) forgiven him <3.  The worst part of it all is I actually saw the evil thieving wench out at a bar WEARING MY SHIRT.  I just couldn’t find a way to prove it was mine (IT WAS DEFINITELY MINE) and get it back without ripping it off her body.  When I saw her wearing it I screeched like a banshee,  after explaining my scream, the door guy at the bar still calls me Molly Hatchet.  I tried guys, I really did.  I approached her, and asked where she got the shirt, and she just said, “Oh it’s a vintage shirt from the 80’s.”  LIKE I DIDN’T KNOW THAT.    There was just no way :(.  I just hope that dumb bitch loves that shirt even a tenth of the amount that I did and I also hope that she gets her nose broken by a goose while riding a roller coaster, just like fucking Fabio.  ~Le sigh~


Do you guys have any great shirt you want to talk about, or do you want to compliment me on my awesome shirts?  Did I leave any out? Leave me a comment!

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My Patented Closet Organizing System 3000

Are you an imbecile who likes to make life as difficult and complicated as possible?

Do you ever look in the mirror and say, “I sure do wish I could be more irritated with myself!”?

Do you enjoy arriving late for work or social functions looking frazzled and disheveled?

Then you need to follow Letty’s Personal Closet Organizing System, Version 3.0!

With my five point system, you can be beating your head against the wall in no time!

  • Step One:  Buy a  ton of eighties and nineties clothes from eBay, make sure they won’t fit you in a couple of years but are awesome enough that you will never want to get rid of them.  Bonus points if they are vintage concert t-shirts, but only for bands that you actually enjoy, DON’T FRONT.
  • Step Two:  Throw all of your clothes in pile on the floor of your closet.  Make a pathetic attempt to hang up a few items, but over several weeks wear the clothes from the hangers then add them to the pile, regardless of their cleanliness.
  •  Step Three: Ensure that your winter and summer clothes are all mixed up, so that when you are looking for a pair of jorts, you instead pull out 4 different sweatshirts with wildlife printed on them.
If you have them, toss in some maternity clothes.  It’s hilarious when your maternity jeans get tangled up with a pair that used to fit you three years ago.  Talk about contrasts! Try to make sure that the black cardigan you wear at least twice a week somehow gets lost in the vortex of clothing, so that when you’re ready to leave it will be nearly impossible to find.   This is also a great way to keep your loved ones waiting.  They love that!
  • Step Four: Take all of your shoes and throw them into a cardboard box and shove it in the dark recesses of your closet.  Put your practical shoes in the bottom of the box, and throw your various colored pumps, and paisley print Doc Martens on top.  Digging for shoes in the dark is fun!
  • Step Five: Buy more clothes.  Go to Forever 21, Old Navy, or Target and buy some cheap, trendy clothes.  If you don’t want to leave the house, order some from Delia*s as if you were still a fifteen-year-old girl.  Throw those clothes in the pile.  Of course you don’t have to don’t have to take off the tags first, you can do that later!

With my handy five point system, you can have your closet looking just like mine in no time:

Trapped in a Closet or DON’T JUDGE ME

Call today! No really, please call me.  I just changed my ringtone to the theme song from Taxi and I would love to hear that funky groove.

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