Things I Used to Wear: HOMECOMING EDITION

Holy hair trends! Cleaning out old bathroom drawers can be dangerous. Especially when they are filled with MILLIONS OF OLD HAIR CLIPS.

Gross.

This picture represents the bulk of the bounty I recovered from a small drawer and a cabinet. What's not pictured are the many bottles of nasty smelling lotions, the used shower puffs, the sparkly shower gels or three bottles of solution to clean piercings. All from Claire's. Anyway.

Notice the bag in the back on the right. It is a bag of plastic curlers. My mom used some of those curlers to curl my hair for Easter festivities when I was 2 (see photo below). They were also used to curl my hair for Easter festivities for the next TEN YEARS. Or thereabouts.

Perms aren't for me.

On the far left are some giant clip thingys. What were those called? Claws? Anyway, I have no idea why there would be so many in my bathroom. Everyone in my family has very fine hair, so those claws would have been outrageously huge on the backs of our teenage heads holding our little bit of hair, half slipping out. Now that's just impractical.

At the bottom of the picture, you can find some teeny tiny sparkly claws. I have to say that I don't remember wearing these, but I could have blacked it out. Were they a Spice Girls fashion trend? A high school dance hair accessory? It's unclear. I suspect that my sister used these items more than me, but I'd hate to falsely accuse her of something so horrific as wearing tiny clips when she was 12. That was sarcasm.

One thing I'm sure of is this: neither my sister nor I wore 1/4 of this crap. For real. I would not lie to you about this. Our hair decorating days were in elementary school, and most of this accumulated after. Those giant clips were just impractical and we were WAY more into scrunchies anyway. The most popular (and therefore, hideous) of those scrunchies were disposed of long ago, because elastic bands can only withstand so many scalding water washings. I think it's for the best.

Masticate on THAT, hump day

Man oh man. It has been quite the week! Oh wait, it's only Tuesday. That would make tomorrow "hump day", which is a name (or euphemism?) that I despise. It makes me think of a bell curve, which doesn't really make any sense if your time-line is Sunday through Saturday. I suppose if we were tracking general displeasure throughout the work week it might peak on Wednesday, making it the day of the hump in data. The bell curve is about probability though, right? So that makes any reasoning completely nonsensical.

Also, I think we should discourage the use of the word "hump" as much as possible in everyday conversation. It's weird and awkward.

You know what else is weird and awkward? The modern history of diets. Particularly the Fletcherizing movement of 1903, encouraging people to chew their food 32 times. The founder, Horace Fletcher, ingeniously reasoned through rhyme that, "Nature will castigate those who don't masticate." (Masticate means chew. Get your mind out of the gutter.)

In more urgent and important news, President Obama needs to cut down on the desserts according to his doctor. From Obama's other health downfall @LA Times:

The famously self-disciplined president who seemingly can't miss a morning workout has a secret craving: pie.

Skipping dessert won't be easy. The Thanksgiving menu at the White House included six kinds of pie.

SIX (6) KINDS OF PIE? As in, 5 + 1 = 6? WHO WOULDN'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF SIX KINDS OF PIE?! I would be disappointed if Obama wasn't eating loads of gourmet pies, cobblers, tarts, et al. More disappointed than health care.

And also, who doesn't love pie? Even the most disciplined eater cannot resist a flaky, buttery crust with a warm, fruity filling. I don't think there is a more American vice. Well, maybe hydrogenated oil. Or Pop Tarts. (Actually, my ex did not like pie. We were clearly incompatible on a very deep level.)

Lastly, Chloe's Show and Tell time.

I took this picture last week. The date stamp ruined it. I have a lot to learn.

Things I Used to Wear: S.T.A.R.S.

Look you guys, I need to get something off my chest: I used to volunteer as a abstinence-only "teen mentor" for middle-schoolers.

Seriously: in the Students Today Aren't Ready for Sex program, or S.T.A.R.S. for short. This is the shirt I wore every week to brainwash the young and impressionable minds of 12- and 13-year-old boys and girls.

I'm so embarrassed. I was going to confess this yesterday in my Blog for Choice post because it seemed relevant. But then, on the other hand, it didn't seem relevant.

In my defense, I was young and foolish. I needed to pad my college applications with something more versatile and substantial than athletics. S.T.A.R.S. was perfect in this capacity. To the casual viewer, this activity demonstrated that I was compassionate and interested in current affairs; a leader among men. However, to anyone else I probably seemed like a spineless d-bag, easily persuaded into selling her soul by empty rhetoric and the possibility of interacting with conservative Christian boys.

You know, the funny thing is that sometimes being a spineless d-bag has it's advantages. In the 3rd week of my second year doing S.T.A.R.S. (no, I didn't get enough the first time around), both of my co-mentors were going to be out of town for some super-fab spring break trip I wasn't invited to. There were a number of fellow mentors who could fill in for the one session, but I decided to impose on a guy I'd been interested in for the past few months. Why not? The fact was I needed someone to help me run the session, and this was innocent enough. Plus, he had a car.

So, what happened? Did we hook up wearing our S.T.A.R.S. shirts? Um, no. This is not that story. The boy in question, let's call him Val Kilmer, agreed to assist me for the one session. We were alone in his car. We got lunch. We talked about music and mutual friends. It was one of those very strange situations that when you're in them, you have no idea what's going on. Afterwards, you think that maybe it could have been almost a date, but it was definitely not a date because either you or the other person was being weird. And you only realize that it could have been sort of a date a few days later, and by then it is much, much to late to do anything about the fact that you blew it. (Those last couple sentences sound like they could have been part of a monologue in the movie "He's Just Not That Into You." Which, bt-dubs, is the worst movie in existence. Or at least top 10.)

Obviously, I was the one who blew it, for reasons that would be foreign to me except for I don't think they even exist. Being a teenager and trying to get a little action is hard enough, and it is nearly impossible when the irony of your self-righteous, abstinent douchebaggery is staring you in the face. Ay, ay, ay. (Looking back, the writing was on the wall. A popular strip club in my hometown shared the name of the program, so I was often teased about working for Stars Cabaret when I wore this t-shirt to school. In my dreams, people.)

When I found the picture of this shirt tonight, that was the first memory that popped into my head. Ridiculous, huh? For the record, the second memory was of a fellow teen mentor roleplaying the part of a 12-year-old during training. For some reason she was also playing the part as if she were a Chinese-Italian exchange student. "Wat iz dees prega-nancy?" she wondered obnoxiously.

I think this video pretty much sums up the situation.

*********************
Things I Used to Wear is an irregular series featuring strange items from my former wardrobe. Past entries have included a tank top, shoes, a shirt, glittery makeup and another tank top.

Wise Up! Bits of Fashion, Love, Body and Aging Wisdom (from someone who has no idea what they're talking about)

"Wise" is not an adjective often used to describe 20-somethings. Ever. Maybe long ago (and in other parts of the world) when the average life expectancy was 35, a person in their mid-20's would have been considered to possess a modicum of wisdom since they were middle-aged.

But now? No. People in their 20s are probably considered to be the LEAST wise (stupidest?) second only to the inconsistent and often irrational wisdom of adolescence. Sure, you might consider children and pre-teens to truly be the dumbest of all the age brackets (youth!), but I'd argue that at least they aren't acting on the pretense of possessing any wisdom. They are just trying to get from point A to point B without getting beat up.

In any case, this week I've brought together four items having loose ties to wisdom. Enjoy!

I. Fashion wisdom
Now, I have a little knowledge about certain topics, but fashion is not one of them. I have gut feelings about things that look bad (red and pink separates, socks with sandals) and I learned a few things in high school (black+ navy blue = bad, brown belt + black shoes = bad, etc.), but that is sort of the extent of my expertise, if you could even call it that.

So! When skinny jeans came onto the scene in full force a few years ago, I first got them confused with tapered jeans. Then I got them confused with the goth/punk uniform. And then I bought a pair. Not too tight, but you know, fitted.

Apparently, as MSNBC reports, many women wear skinny jeans that are very, VERY skinny, and now some of those fancy-pants ladies are reporting pain in their thighs. The pain is a type of nerve damage known as meralgia paresthetica or, for the more literal-minded, "tingly thigh syndrome."

On top of THAT, skinny jeans may be the cause of gastrointestinal issues, bladder infections, yeast infections and blood clots, according to Dr. Roshini Raj, medical editor of Health magazine. Just watch this video from the Today show with Meredith Viera.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

True, only 3 or 4 women in 10,000 will suffer from "tingly thigh syndrome", but millions more will probably get bladder and yeast infections. Millions!

So why do women put themselves through physical pain and potential crotchitorial itchiness for skinny jeans? "They are the antithesis of 'mom jeans,'" says Cindi Leive, editor-in-chief of Glamour and Today. LOL!

This segment is uber ridiculous. Of all the things to do a four minute "health" segment on, they chose to demonize skinny jeans?! The fact is, bladder and yeast infections are sort of a normal lifetime occurrence, so I don't think theres any need to create a crisis over them. (Unless, you know, you get a yeast infection like once a week.) Nerve damage and blood clots, on the other hand, are not anything to mess around with. But how common are these things in women and men who wear skinny jeans? How tight are the pants? Are people wearing these things 24/7? The vague speculation by Meredith and the lady doctors about these factors do not make for a very convincing argument.

A comment on the Newser post about this pretty much sums up my thoughts: "Women can be so retarded." JK!

P.S. Did you notice that NBC showed a picture of the Jonas Brothers to illustrate that men often wear skinny jeans? Ha.

(Via Wellness in Practice)

II. Relationship and sex wisdom
Dan Savage is awesome. He is a relationship and sex advice columnist with a podcast and a blog. People call and write to him with their problems and he gives them amazing no-bullshit advice.

Example: Here is today's advice for a single gay dude who had testicular cancer resulting in the loss of one of his testicles. Will this affect his love life? Dan writes,

There may be a handful of gay guys out there who won't want to date a guy with one ball, and they'll make their excuses and refrain from seeing you again. But so long as you're not an insecure, tormented bag of slop always bemoaning his half-empty sack, it shouldn't interfere with your love life.

I've been listening to the podcast a lot recently, and I just love it more and more. Savage is able to be both sensitive when people sincerely have issues, and sort of a jackass when people are being idiots.

Above all, Savage encourages people to be confident, open and compassionate about their problems. Although sometimes he can be a little bitchy, for the most part Savage is right on with his advice, and it's nice to hear from someone who is confidently open-minded and not afraid to call people out when they are acting like fools.

Lastly, you should watch this video of Savage describing the weirdest letter he's every received. You won't regret it.

III. Love-your-body wisdom
I'm not a big sort of touchy-feely your-body-is-a-wonderland advocate, but I wanted to point out the recently launched "art action" initiative called Beautiful Just The Way You Are.

Created by Massachusetts artist Lillian Hsu, BJTWYA aims to

intervene in the space between all who stand before the magazine rack and the engine of advertising and mass culture. In that space of daily life it places an alternative.

Here's how it works:

1. Print out BJTWYA 8.5 x 11 inch posters. (PDF on their homepage; also pictured)
   
2. Place them in front of women's interest magazines to highlight the abusive and absurd headlines (i.e. "10 Easy Ways to Lose Weight", "Get that Bikini Body!", etc.) in your local newsstands.
   
3. Stand back and bask in warm glow of bodily acceptance.
4. Optional: Run from store clerks, owners and disgruntled shoppers.

(Via Our Bodies, Our Blog)

IV. Aging wisdom

Gray hair. Ugh.

My significant other INSISTS that I have a few errant gray hairs, although there is no physical evidence to back up the claim. I do not agree with this assertion. (My hair is dirty blonde, so it's incredibly hard to look at a single strand of hair and definitively establish a color.)

Last weekend, I found a weird kinky hair sitting in my lap while chillin' in the backseat as we cruised around Syracuse, NY. I inspected it carefully, holding it against the black leatherish interior of the car, and finally proclaimed that there was nothing to worry about, everyone! This was NOT a gray hair.

My S.O. grabbed the hair from my hand and began to loudly contradict me. Front Seat Friend jumped on the bandwagon immediately, and my S.O. passed the hair to her. Within seconds, FSF had declared that I was wrong, this WAS a gray hair! And how could she tell, I asked?

"Because it feels gray," she said.

BUT YOU CAN'T FEEL A COLOR, I said.

Huh... I'm going to start dyeing my hair.

Rethinking: Cohabitation, an Old Shirt, and Digging that Big Hole in the Sand

Today I give you a three part meditation. The theme? Things to re-think, or think about for the first time.

Re-Thought #1: Meditation on Cohabitation
I am currently cohabiting with my significant other, which is a recent development. This is not a meditation on regret, but rather a time to revisit the idea of this particular living arrangement, as it is not a situation to be entered into lightly.

The non-profit organization Child Trends recently published a study about young adults ideas about relationships and cohabitation. They surveyed 12,000 young adults ages 20-24. As you can see in Figure 1, about the same percentage of those young adults are married as are living together, 35% are currently in a relationship and a quarter are not currently in a relationship.

Interestingly, 57% of young adults think it's "all right" for unmarried couples to cohabit, whereas 24% disagree and 19% could care less about this issue (Figure 3).

So, ok. These numbers are higher than they were ten years ago, which were higher than they were ten years before that (source? common sense). Is this the decline of the American family in action?

The press release from Child Trends also pointed to a USA Today article which cites the study, among others.

The article vaguely cites a study conducted by researchers at the University of Denver, which found a couple pretty surprising things:

• Most couples didn't consciously decide to live together; two-thirds of cohabitors said they either "slid into it" or "talked about it, but then it just sort of happened." Just one-third talked about it and made a decision to live together.
• Almost half of cohabitors of both sexes in the study cite spending more time together as a reason they moved in together; just 9% of men and 5% of women cited "to test the relationship before marriage."

Well jeez you guys. Only 1/3 of couples talked about living together and made a conscious decision to do it?! Less than 10% of both men and women are actually living together to "test the relationship"?!

You know, I'm generally not super concerned about the rise of divorce and the "downfall" of the American family, but these statistics are a little shocking. Maybe if people weren't so blase about MAJOR LIFE DECISIONS, they would choose more wisely. Personally, I decided to make the jump into cohabitation for many practical reasons (it's cheaper to live, we practically lived together anyway, we both needed to get out of crazy living situations, etc.), but ultimately the Big Plan was TO FIND OUT IF THIS WORKS. If it does, fantastic. Full speed ahead. If it doesn't, then thank God we did this now and got it over with. Moving on.

(Disclaimer: I do not profess to be some sort of expert at relationships. Lord knows that I'm not even close. However, I do strive to act with intention and make big decisions with my eyes open. I'm only surprised that more people don't appear to act similarly.)

Re-Thought #2: Things I Used to Wear
This is a series that has played out infrequently between my other blogs over the last 6 months (which you can find here, here, here and here). It has been abandoned due to my lack of follow-thru, but I think it is relevant in this discussion in a sort of This-American-Life kind of way.

So. Here it is. My first ever Forever 21 shirt. Purchased 10 years ago on a shopping trip with a gal pal specifically intended to find "killer" outfits for a friends' upcoming 15th birthday party. But this was no ordinary 15th birthday party.

Oh. No.

First of all, this was a joint party. Question: What's more fun than one birthday girl? Answer: TWO birthday girls!!! Especially when those two birthday girls are arguably the most popular (and wealthy) in the freshman class and can therefore throw a party a'la my Super Sweet Sixteen.

With a DJ.
At a country club.
On a golf course reserved for the PGA tour.

Ok sure. So I got invited. Looking back, it was an invitation I accepted with delight and spent little to no time wondering why I had been put on the guest list. Now I suspect that it probably would have been awkward NOT to invite me, since one of the birthday girls in question was my co-captain on the freshman girls basketball team and we had 4 classes together.

In any case, I bought this shirt, threw on a knee length black skirt and these shoes (probably) and headed to the party.

Now, before we discuss the party, let's take a moment to ruminate on this shirt. I bet you didn't know that Forever 21 sold shirts that were this modest. Well, let me tell you -- this was the MOST modest shirt I could find. It was at the beginning of Forever 21's heyday, when the majority of their stock could only fit 90 lb sixth graders, everything was adorned with tiny, non-functional straps and rhinestones, and they sold specialty pieces like purple jumpsuits (see photo). Actually, I don't think anything has changed... now they just have MORE.

The good thing about Forever 21, which is still true for the most part, is that since everything is made by Chinese school children, it is SUPER CHEAP. I think I paid $9 for the shirt, hopefully less.

Anyway, back to the shirt. The fabric was a stretch poly-knit with a geometric + flowers pattern, accented by glittery threads. I thought it was delightful, albeit busy. The V-neck was fairly deep (although I had nothing in the way of cleavage) and it completely hid my bra straps, which was a middle school taboo that I had yet to relinquish.

The one reason I never, ever wore this shirt again (only one?) is because while the glitter thread allowed me to subtly sparkle in a shadowy corner while I gawked at boys, it was SO ITCHY. Like a wool sweater. I tried to wear a second tank top underneath, but it created unsightly bunches in odd places.

In truth, my shopping friend was not too supportive of my outfit decision, and tried to gently suggest a few strappy, rhinestony pieces. I did appreciate the attempt to make me less of a grandmother, but straps and rhinestones were in direct conflict with my entire moral code, as they still are today. I doubt there is anyone that would look like more of a jackass than me adorned in faux jewels.

Unfortunately, none of the other 15-year-old girls at the party had any moral qualms about straps or rhinestones in large quantities. They were all bustier, bolder, sluttier and drunker than I (the last one because I was not drunk at all... I probably just had a little indigestion from sucking down gallons of Sprite). No game indeed.

The one shining light of the evening was Erica: the girl in a pencil skirt and matching sweater set. Bless her Ralph Lauren heart, she managed to arrive in something more modest than me. I don't really remember much else about the evening, but I'm sure we spent it doing the shopping cart dance and making fun of the sluttiest girls and sweatiest boys of the bunch.

I'm just glad I survived to tell the tale.

Re-Thought #3: Meditation on Sand Castles

Children and adults who build castles and dig in the sand at the beach are at greater risk of developing gastrointestinal diseases and diarrhea than people who only walk on the shore or swim in the surf, according to researchers from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).

People who played in the sand at the beach -- buried themselves, erected sand fortresses, dug big holes (the best!), etc. -- seem to have an increased risk of stomach problems in the days following their beach adventures.

The culprit? FECAL MATTER. In the sand. Awesome.

"Beach sand can contain indicators of fecal contamination, but we haven't understood what that means for people playing in the sand," said Dr. Heaney. "This is one of the first studies to show an association between specific sand contact activities and illnesses."

Oh man! That is pretty disgusting. I mean, it makes sense. If you sit down and really think about what is in the sand, especially at really crowded, sweaty beaches in the summer... wait. Don't do that. You might never go to the beach again.

But don't despair! Here is the good news: Less than 10% of people who played in the sand got sick later, so it's not necessarily a sure thing. Plus, Dr. Tim Wade, an EPA epidemiologist and the study's senior author, says

"People should not be discouraged from enjoying sand at the beach but should take care to use a hand sanitizer or wash their hands after playing in the sand."

And also, try not to eat the sand. Or get it in any major orifice. That is just my advice, though. The blurb for this new study was published in last week's Association of Schools of Public Health (ASPH) Friday Letter.

LOLBeef and Comebacks

Sometimes it seems like everyone is working against you... including the Engrish-speaking people at the burger joint...



You know what?! I AM HUNGRY GIRL and I'm GLAD I had not met your hamburger and I don't think it is misfortune very much. Some people say that hamburgers are the Hummers of food anyway, and Hummers are stupid! And ugly!

But really, an article at Common Dreams suggests that "the livestock sector is estimated to account for 18 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions and beef is the biggest culprit."

Even though beef only accounts for 30 percent of meat consumption in the developed world it's responsible for 78 percent of the emissions, Nathan Pelletier said Sunday at a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science.

That's because a single kilogram of beef produces 16 kilograms carbon dioxide equivalent emissions: four times higher than pork and more than ten times as much as a kilogram of poultry, Pelletier said.

If people were to simply switch from beef to chicken, emissions would be cut by 70 percent.

These statistics correspond to the way we currently produce the majority of beef in the USA, namely by raising and fattening cattle in feed lots. However, there is something to be said for grass-fed beef. No, it's not as efficient as producing other proteins, but when produced in a more conscientious manner (e.g. by using un-farmable hillsides or other non-arable land for grazing), beef does not cause quite the environmental crisis situation. Plus, it's a bit less fatty.

Unfortunately, if you're interested in tasting some grass-fed steaks, it can be hard to come by. It's rare (excuse the pun) to find grass-fed beef in grocery stores, even fancy (see: expensive) ones like Whole Foods. If you do, it has probably been shipped across the country, which kind of defeats the purpose if you're interested in "low-carbon" food.

I think the best bet is to go to the source: the farm! Eat Wild has a farm finder you can use to search by state, so you can swing by and stock up on local, happy meats! Now the next step is to purchase a chest freezer to save your bounty...

Anyway, to be honest, this post was prompted by the Engrish Funny picture, and I wish I was kidding. Clearly I have been LA-Z with the posting lately, but it's time for a comeback... *Simone, cue the Rocky theme*

Now, I will leave you with this.


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