Who Wears Short-Shorts?

One of the most fun things I’ve ever done in this city is an annual event called Bay to Breakers. For those who don’t know, it’s a race in SF from the Bay Bridge to the beach, hence, Bay to Breakers. There are real athletes who participate in the race seriously and actually run, but my friends and I like to do the party route and dress up in costumes and drink with all the other lazy, crazy, (fun loving) people.

Last year we all went as figure skaters a la Blades of Glory (hilarious!). This is my brother, in the costume that I picked out for him (he was such a good sport):

Because the race was on pavement and not ice, we wore roller skates which all the other participants found to be both clever and hysterical. I do have to say though, the roller skates lost their clever edge once we started doing this:

Which led to this:

Bay to Breakers is just so much fun because it’s entirely grown ups acting like idiots and having a good time doing it. My old roommate, who is a nurse and a little bit of a uptight person, was actually doing kegstands out of a rolling shopping cart. Lots of other people dress up, some just go naked (not attractive people, only the ones who sag in places they shouldn’t). Some of my other favorite costumes were the dudes dressed up as the Beatles with a Yellow Submarine Float:

Guys dressed up like MySpace pages:

And this, which I can’t even explain:

Because the skates were such a hit last year, this year we decided to revive the idea (and perhaps consume a little less Jameson in the process). So hence the idea for 1970’s Roller Derby Girls came into fruition. This weekend my roommate Jenny and I tried to look for costume ideas. We started off at Forever 21 downtown where I had seen these disgustingly ’70s terrycloth jumpsuits with short-shorts. Who wears short-shorts? Not I, as I found out after trying on the hideous jumpsuit. But I did manage to find a great raglan-sleeve tee with a big smiley face on the back and the saying, “Come on get happy” on the front.

Next, on to Haight Street where there is an American Apparel store that has sporty ’70’s style shorts with piping down the sides (not terrycloth and not as short as the Forever 21 jumpsuit shorts).

However, the line to try on the garments was huge (don’t go to Haight on a nice Saturday afternoon in SF) and I didn’t really feel like facing another vision of myself in shorts, so Jen and I left without trying them on. So, I am still on the lookout for the perfect Rollergirl incarnation. I have the roller skates in the mail (thanks Ebay!) and I was going to wear some great striped knee-high athletic socks, so I have until May 18 to find a pair of short-shorts that will actually look semi-decent on me.

Wish me luck.

Death Cab For How Much???

Side note:

I had wanted to go see Death Cab For Cutie at the legendary Fillmore West in San Francisco tonight, but when I went to go purchase tickets to my dismay and disbelief the tickets (for floor seats) is $115.  General Admission is $125.  For Death Cab For Cutie.  They have a couple good songs, and granted, it’s sort of last minute, but I would only pay $125 to see someone really great and/or legendary.  I didn’t even see Paul McCartney when he came to Sacramento a few years ago when he was charging $250 per ticket, and he’s A FREAKING BEATLE.  Take a note, Death Cab For Cutie (or the band’s promoters, or the Fillmore, or whoever is in charge of ticket prices I’m not sure), I’m not going to pay that much to see you, ever, and I like your music.  Instead, tonight I’ll be doing my laundry.  My towels needed washing anyway.

The Tale of The Foundation and the Free Necklace

As an interesting juxtaposition to my tomboy-like tendencies, I like to play with makeup.  In fact, my lip gloss collection is something to be marveled at (and stupefied by.  Believe me, I know I have every color I could possibly need already.  I KNOW THAT.  I just need to buy new ones.  Why?  Because I’m sick, that’s why).  That’s why last night I went to something called “Sephora University” here in San Francisco for a Bare Escentuals event.  

I love Bare Escentuals.  For those who aren’t familiar with this brand, it is a makeup line that specializes in all-natural, good-for-your-skin mineral makeup.  I can’t say how much I love love LOVE their foundation.  Nothing else looks as good on my skin, and because it’s a sheer powder I don’t get that awful makeup-mask line where your neck meets your face and makes you look like you’re in some kind of Japanese Kabuki Theater Troupe or something.  I hate that.  OK, enough with the free advertisement, but it really is great and you should try it (http://www.bareescentuals.com/).  So the Sephora store here in SF decided to invite the creator and CEO of Bare Escentuals, Leslie Blodgett (that’s her above in the pic), to come and teach this “master class” to Sephora Insiders (an Insider is someone who owns one of those free frequent buyer cards, and of course I’m one because as we’ve already established, I’m a sick, sick makeup-aholic).  It was actually a really great deal, because all you had to do was pay a $25.00 fee to hold your spot, which can later be redeemed at the event for merchandise.  And because I would probably buy something anyway, it’s a win/win for me.

So my Mom and I (I’ve recently converted her to loving Bare Escentuals too) signed up for the class and she drove down from the Sierra foothills where she lives last night for the event.  I stayed with her at the Hilton, even though I live here and she doesn’t.  I just love hotels.  Plus I got a free continental breakfast and Crabtree&Evelyn mini shower products set out of it.  Aside from being 20 minutes late to the event (I stupidly didn’t read the invitation and didn’t realize that this class wasn’t in fact not at the Sephora store on Powell like I thought, but was instead at a separate location 10 blocks away), it was very interesting.  The place we arrived at was a big office building in the financial district, and after being taken up in elevators decorated with Sephora’s curvy black and silver logos, we arrived at our destination and was greeted by Maggie Rizer in turquoise eyeliner and pink lipstick.  Well, not Maggie herself, but a big poster of her, along with many other Sephora ads and posters lining the hallway.  We were led to a room full of probably thirty large square tables covered with Bare Escentuals products.  Each table fit about six people, and on each seat was a gift bag full of Sephora goodies (See?  I even got free swag out of this sweet deal!).

Leslie Blodgett, a thin, stylish brunette with a powerful voice and sleek white designer dress, was on a stage in front of the room talking about Bare Escentuals (or BE for my fingers’ sake).  She also had 2 makeup artists on stage with her, doing the makeup on 2 models, one using the Fair/Light makeup kit (provided for our examination and experimentation at our tables) and one using the Medium/Dark kit.  There were 2 more kits for a total of 4 different skin tones, each on our tables.  They had a before/after shot of each model after the makeup artists did their thang, which was probably devastating for the models because they did the before sans makeup (my worst nightmare–I am not what you would call a “natural beauty”.  I need at least concealer and mascara to make myself even the least bit presentable).

Then came the most exciting part of the evening (though I didn’t know it at the time).  Leslie Blodgett decided to raffle off a piece of jewelry she had bought that day to a lucky participant at the event.  And to what did my wondering ears did hear?  4-9-8-0-6-1.  Me.  That was my seat and my number on the ticket right in front of me oh my god I think I actually won something!!!  You have to understand, I have never one ANYTHING like this before.  I’m not usually lucky like that.  Lucky in some other ways, bet never in the random-winning-of-goods-and-prizes way.  My mom looked at me in joy and disbelief, and I knew it was real.  So I had to go up on the stage and accept my piece of jewelry from Ms. Blodgett herself.  I hate going up in front of lots of people, but if it’s to accept free pieces of jewelry from a multi-millionaire, well I’ll suck it up.  I came back to my seat and opened my package and…. it was a very delicate, almost transparently so, silver chain necklace with a tiny wishbone charm on it.  It was dainty, delicate, kind of not me, but I liked it.  It was from a brand of jewelry I’ve actually bought for my Mom and Grandma called Dogeared.  They make pieces that are on rope-type chains, and once the rope wears away and the necklace falls off, your wish will supposedly come true.  I gave up on the rope breaking after about 3 months straight of wear, but the one I bought my Grandma supposedly wore off, according to her.  Maybe she just told me that so she wouldn’t have to constantly wear it anymore.  Kidding.  I think.  Anyway, this silver chain version was more expensive looking (i.e. not on rope but on silver) and was something I actually won, so I think it is truly a good luck charm.  (I’m wearing it again today, and I actually scored a free full-size lip gloss from a girl at the Laura Mercier counter at Nordstrom.  So it must be lucky, right?).

The rest of the event was good, though it couldn’t compare to the excitement of winning something.  A makeup artist came to each of the tables and helped everyone at that table out with playing with the various BE products provided for our entertainment.  She color matched foundation on people that hadn’t used the product before, told us which color kit we should use, and answered whatever questions we had about the brand.  My only beef about this even was that they didn’t bring any extra eyeshadow colors for us to play with, only the ones that came in each of the color kits.  When I do my makeup I mainly like to play with my eyeshadow colors, so that’s what I was looking forward to.  But it was a really informative event.  We had little sheets in front of us for us to mark off the products we wanted to use our $25 fee to purchase, and after complimentary wine and dessert we were shown into a little room to put in our orders.  I ended up buying a bronzer called Faux-Tan (I don’t like tanning but also don’t like looking like a ghost), a cool mascara called Big Tease (the wand is double sided, with one side being a regular mascara wand and the other side being more of a teaser to get right to the base of the lashes), and a lip gloss kit with 4 mini sized tubes of tropical colored lip gloss (did I not mention before how sick I am?).  After the $25 redemption I ended up spending about $40.  Not bad.  My mom ended up spending about $100.00, but her bank account can afford it.  Mine can’t.

Sephora needs to do more of these Master Classes with their other brands.  I would go to all of them in a heartbeat.  It really felt like Sephora values their customers and went all out to make this a great event.  My thanks to Ms. Blodgett for the necklace too, I’m sure it will bring me luck.  And if not, who cares?  I got a free necklace and more lipgloss.  Score!       

The Teacher Has Now Become the Student

Looking back on my concert experience this past week, I got to thinking about how good Phantom Planet was when they opened for PATD. I’ve noticed, in my large (and sometimes sordid) history with going to rock concerts, that at times the opening bands are as enjoyable, if not more so, than the headliner themselves.

The most blatant example of this in my past has been a couple of years ago at the Vegoose Festival in Las Vegas, NV, when I saw a little band called The Killers open up for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I by FAR enjoyed The Killers more than Tom Petty, and it wasn’t just because Brendon Flowers, the lead singer of The Killers, was wearing an enchanting mix of strange little black tie and bright blue blazer (though it didn’t hurt).

No joke, this was actually the outfit he wore during the concert. I shot this myself. Awesome.

I went to go see Matt Costa perform at a really awesome SF venue called Slim’s last month (http://www.slims-sf.com/). The opening act for Matt was a band I had never heard of called Delta Spirit. I was dubious at first because of the name of the band (it sounds kind of like a hippie-dippy band that should be performing at a coffee shop or a sit-in somewhere, right?), but they rocked it. Sort of Bob Dylan-meets-Nirvana, complete with a lead singer wearing that headgear-looking apparatus that lets you play the harmonica without having to use your hands (you know what I’m talking about. What is that thing called? Does it even have a name? It always looks sort of uncomfortable and sado-masochistic to me). They had a really raw, painful sound that lent itself well to the folk music they played.

A band called The Honorary Title opened up for Mae at Slim’s last Tuesday. I had already known who The Honorary Title was and loved their music (I highly recommend the album Scream and Light Up the Sky, especially the tracks “Apologize”, “Thin Layer”, “Stuck at Sea”, and “Far More”), and so went to this concert actually only to see the opening act.

Maybe the appeal in the opening act is that they always seem to put themselves out there fully, like they have nothing to lose. And maybe they don’t. They’re usually still trying to prove themselves at the opening act point, and feel like they have to go all out to get noticed. Maybe it’s the feeling like you’re discovering something new and unknown, something secret that no one else knows about, someone just about to make it big and you’re catching them on their upward trajectory. That’s how I felt when I saw the Killers. And when I started wearing Levi’s Capital-E Jeans before the big green-conscious trend caught on (it’s true–i swear).

Or maybe it’s that sometimes that the headlining band is sometimes too complacent in their position as the most successful act on the ticket. While this definitely wasn’t true with Panic, it was definitely the case with Tom Petty. Someone as old-hat as Mr Petty sometimes seem to be going through the motions instead of actually trying with their whole heart to put on a good show. Yes, Tom is a wee bit past the age of spry youth, but if the Rolling Stones still can rock it, why can’t he?

For now I will stick with buying my Delta Spirit and Honorary TItle records and see them whenever they come to town. If that means I have to see some lame headliner in the process, so be it.

Scream if you luv PATD

Last night I went to the opening night of the Honda Civic Tour a.k.a. Panic at the Disco Tour (don’t you love corporate sponsorship of EVERYTHING now?) It was a great lineup, with Phantom Planet, The Hush Sound, and Motion City Soundtrack opening up for panic. The concert was held at the Warfield in San Francisco, a nice little venue with lots of downtown charm, if you know what I mean. After meandering my way past the homeless contingent’s shopping carts and seedy strip clubs lining Market street, I made my way into the theater.

The Warfield is a San Francisco institution. The theater seats a lot of people, but the balcony and ground floor allows for a close view of the bands from every seat in the joint. Basically there is no bad seat in the Warfield. The concertgoers were mostly teenagers and people in their early twenties. Being in my mid-twenties, I was one of the older people there which was fun for me (can you detect sarcasm in written word?). The young people all seemed to agree on a uniform of choice–skin-tight jeans with sneakers and a hoodie. There were variations on this theme, but the main idea was the same. I loved that I was wearing green jeans at least, to stand out a little.

The first band that played, Phantom Planet. was the best opening act of the three, in my opinion. This band, for those of you who are unawares, is responsible for that hopelessly catchy tune “California” that is (was) featured in the opening credits of the television show “The O.C.” I don’t even watch the show, but I think the song is good. Their other songs were good as well, my favorite being “Big Brat.” Because there were so many opening acts, each one only played about 5 or 6 songs max. The Hush Sound was unremarkable, but I found their dueling male-female singers unusual in a good way, and any band that features the piano as one of it’s main instruments can’t be all bad in my opinion. Motion City Soundtrack was pretty good, but the lead singer’s hair and the outrageous keyboard player’s antics distracted me from any real enjoyment of the music itself.

First of all, I have to mention that there was a really annoying activity that was going on in between acts. A screen was in the background on stage and would show various music videos (OK, something to pass the time), Honda Civic commercials (disgusting corporate whoring) and the worst of all, the displaying of people’s texts. This is how it worked: The screen would have a scroll going constantly on the bottom saying to text messages to a certain number, and they would be displayed on the bottom of this big screen for all to see. There were a lot of “Show sum luv to the 916″ and “Casie and Jodie <3 Panic”, as well as a lot of “Brendon is hott” (Brendon is Panic’s lead singer) and “Scream if you luv panic”. In fact, there were WAY too many of the “Scream if you…”’s. And after each one, the mindless teens in the audience would squeal with delight, happy to be a part of something, ANYTHING, no matter how futile and inane. There was “Scream if you luv Miley Cyrus”, “Scream if you luv Harry Potter”, “Scream if you luv Hush Sound”. My personal favorite was “Scream if you are sick of people screaming.” I think I actually might have screamed for that one.

Then the main event: Panic at the Disco. The stage was set up like Indian hookah den-meets-Alice in Wonderland acid trip. There were three small oriental rugs on the stage, with a mic stand covered in flowers in front of each. The back featured a drum set on a flowered riser and the other equipment, like keyboards and sound equipment, was set up on a riser that looked like a giant storybook that read “Panic at the Disco” on the spine. The screen in the back featured various backdrops that changed during the songs. Most were trippy flowered scenes and other psychedelic imagery, which totally fits with Panic’s new Beatles-esque image. The band themselves were dressed in button-down shirts, jeans, Beatle-boots, and vests. A change a pace from their Edwardian-Gothic vibe from the last tour (not a smidgen of eyeliner in sight).

Overall I loved the concert. The band played a great mix of both their last album and the newest one. They sounded good live, but the new material was played MUCH better than the old. I think the new material lends itself better to being played live than the older stuff, which had a lot more studio effects and techno beats. The new stuff is just plain good old-fashioned music, which I LOVED. No gimmicks, tricks, stage performances, nothing. Panic just focused on their musicality which was brilliant. My favorites were their renditions of “That Green Gentleman”, “Northern Downpour”, and a fantastic solo effort by Brendon of “I Have Friends in Holy Spaces.” They seemed to breeze through their older material, in fact they seemed to almost hesitant to play their biggest and most overplayed hit from the last album “I Write Sins Not Tragedies.” But they really seemed to relish playing the new stuff, which makes sense because the new material is just plain good fun music, and not angst-driven techno-punk (although that was pretty brilliant music too).

The concert was so great, I had always loved Panic but had never seen them live. Aside from the annoying text messaging fiasco and the man who smelled like an ashtray sitting next to me, the experience was pretty much perfect.

And my ears are still ringing.

Blue Jeans’ Evil Twin

In an effort to be different and stand out a bit (the haircut has really boosted my confidence in the fashion department, so I think I can get away with gutsier clothes) I bought some green jeans yesterday.

I had tried these Rich and Skinny Emerald Sleek jeans on at Bloomingdales a week prior and really liked them, but couldn’t justify spending $150 on something so trendy. So I opted for something a little more practical (see my previous post, An Epic Journey…). But I kept thinking about them, and they really did fit well. So I went back and bought them yesterday.

So now my problem is styling options. I’ve worn them with black and grey tanks (black last night at the concert and grey as we speak), and I know white and other neutrals would work. The Bloomingdales salesperson had told me that the green would look good with muted yellow, purple, maroon, and other vaguely perturbing color choices. While I was politely nodding at his color suggestions, inside I was wondering just how much I wanted to look like an easter egg or a box of Crayolas gone berzerk. I’m not so sure about the color-on-color thing. Maybe one day when I’m feeling especially gutsy I’ll throw on my purple tie-dye tank from C&C California. But for now I’ll stick with the black, white and grey.

The pastel police are on the prowl, after all.

Panic at the Food Court

As someone who has never come face-to-face (or in my case, face-to-face-to-face-to-face-to-face) with one of their favorite bands, I had a milestone in my life occur this past Wednesday.

Here’s the scene:  I was in the food court of my local shopping mall, having lunch after my morning class and getting ready to do some shopping to look for a birthday present for my brother.  I had a very excellent breakfast burrito (breakfast is good ANY time of day if you ask me, it shouldn’t just be relegated to the AM hours), and was getting ready to leave the food court in search of my yet-to-be-determined gift.  As I’m walking out I see a group of guys walking towards me.  Automatically I knew it was the members of one of my favorite bands, Panic at the Disco.

After recovering from my brief aneurism, it takes me a minute for my brain to start working again.  I knew they were in town to play a couple of dates at The Warfield Thursday and Friday night, the Thursday date being the one I had tickets to.  As they are casually walking by me, I try to make eye contact with the lead singer, but I try not to be creepy at the same time.  No bite.  So then I have an inner debate:  “Do I go up to them and say something?  Or is that too weird?  They’re in a food court for Godsake.  They probably just want to be left alone to eat.  And why the hell are they in a food court in a local mall?  Aren’t they famous?  Shouldn’t they be able to call up room service and get whatever they want, like bowls of M&M’s with all the green ones picked out?  Ok, ok, stop thinking of all these inane questions, they’re about to leave.  What to do?”

So I decide to talk to them.  I mean, how often do you get to meet one of your favorite bands like this, in such a casual, random setting?  I figured it had to be fate.  And they didn’t really have a lot of security or people around them, so I didn’t run the risk of being tackled by an over-zealous bodyguard.  I slowly make my approach, as they (the guitarist, Ryan Ross, the drummer, Spencer Smith, and the bassist, John Walker.  The lead singer, Brendon Urie, went to get food somewhere else) are paying for their food at one of the booths.

“Hi, I realize this is an intrusion, but I just wanted to say that I really love your band.  I love the new album, it’s actually the ringtone on my phone right now.  I’m going to go see your concert tomorrow, but I just wanted to say hi.  I’ll let you guys eat now.  Bye.”

And that was it.  That was all I said.  I was really nervous and talking quickly, so it probably came out like, ”HiIrealizethisisanintrusionbutIjustwantedtosaythatIreallyloveyourband, Ilovethenewalbumit’sactuallytheringtoneonmyphonerightnow, I’mgoingtogoseeyourconcerttomorrowbutIjustwantedtosayhiI’llletyouguyseatnowbye.”

And the whole time I was spouting words like a defective faucet, Ryan Ross was looking at me with an amused half-smile on his face.  He nodded a few times and said, “Wow, that’s really nice.”  Overall he seemed genuinely pleased that I liked their band, and he didn’t seem creeped out at all that I was talking to him.  Spencer and John were busy paying for their food while this occured, so I don’t think they heard the whole exchange.

After I walked away, I was really proud of myself.  I’ve seemed to have overcome my shy and introverted ways of my youth, I thought.  Not only can I voluntarily talk to famous people (idols of mine nonetheless), I can do so without seeming like a total idiot.  I thought (I HOPE) I came off as pretty cool and respectful of their privacy, while at the same time saying how much I like their music.  I managed to seem pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, actually.  No screaming, psycho, stalker fan here.

And then I proceeded to walk around the mall and downtown San Francisco the rest of the day, trying desperately to spot them so I could talk to them again.  

Small victories.

Don’t Call Me Tinkerbell

And now for a moment of self-indulgence…

I recently cut my hair off. I was trying to go for an Edie Sedgwick vibe (or rather a Sienna Miller as Edie in Factory Girl vibe). Since then I’ve been getting a lot of compliments on it. I like to think that these compliments are genuine, but I also think that they might also stem from people not necessarily liking the haircut, but rather acknowledging the jutzpah it takes for a girl to cut all her hair off. Let’s face it, a women’s identity and femininity is often wrapped up in her appearance, and a lot of that femininity is wrapped up in her hair. So I’ve been getting my props. I’ve also been getting a lot of “You look like….” Most of the time these comparisons are flattering, like “You look like Edie Sedgwick/Twiggy/Agyness Deyn/Mia Farrow/Linda Evangelista in the George Michael ‘Freedom’ video”. But last night at the bar I got the most confusing comparison yet.

Let’s set the scene: Dim bar, way past midnight so most everyone is blitzed out of their mind on mojitos and vodka tonics already. One of my fellow bartenders is attempting to help out two girls in rare form at the end of the bar. “No!” they yell at him. “We don’t want a drink from you. We want to get a drink from TINKERBELL!!!!”

Tinkerbell.

These girls were comparing me to a fairy.

I know they probably meant it as a compliment. I mean, Tinkerbell is cute and sprightly because, well, she’s a sprite. But I wasn’t really going for the cute pixie vibe when I chopped my hair off. I wanted it to be slightly edgy and very cool.

Maybe I’m overreacting, I don’t know. Maybe I could be a cross between Tinkerbell and Edie Sedgwick.

Man, would she have an awesome wardrobe!

From the “I Really Hope This Works” File

Has anyone else seen this ad for the new backless bra from Maidenform? Apparently it won something on one of those inventor reality shows, so I’m hoping it really works. Of course I don’t put a lot of stock in reality shows (except Project Runway of course, but that’s not a reality show, it’s a way of life). I am a huge fan of showing off the back in backless or low-back tops (the sexiest body part in my opinion–so underrated), but I have never liked those stick-on monstrosities. Sorry, but sticking a flimsy piece of fabric over my nipples isn’t going to do it for me. I had a horrible experience with stick-on bras during my senior ball in high school. My dress was thin and showed way more than I wanted, and my stick on started to wrinkle up on my skin in unflattering ways…I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still scarred from this day (mentally, not physically). That’s why I’m excited to try this new creation. Hopefully it works, because I bought a low-backed black top not too long ago that’s been waiting in my closet for something like this to come along and liberate it.

Pinkeye IS Contageous

Lately I’ve seen models in ads and editorials wearing bright pink eyeshadow (the one above is from Sephora). I have to say I kind of dig this look, but I’m worried that if I try this is real life it will look like I’m feverish or have contracted some sort of weird foreign disease. Is this the kind of thing that only looks good in magazines but fails miserably when put to the real-world test?

Usually I try out these crazy new makeup experiments on nights that I have to work. The dim bar environment is very scary-makeup friendly. Plus most of the people are drunk anyway, so they won’t realize and/or remember if it looks terrible or not.

This isn’t the best shot–it looks kind of tame in this picture, but it’s really a more vivid pink in person (and, oh God, why does my nose look so huge? Terrible picture. Ick. But you get the point). I’ll let you know how it goes over. If I get people asking me if I feel ok or “Are you tired?”(my personal favorite. What are you supposed to say to that? They’re basically asking you why you look like crud), you’ll know not to try this in public unless you’re Kate Moss.