Scary Scrolldowns

Ok, I have a tremendously upsetting issue that I need to discuss, but first off: GOOD MORNING!

Good, good. We are now fortified by the cute and can continue on to the following tragic tragedies: Scrolldowns From Hell.

Exhibit A:

Ok, I guess you don’t really have to scroll down for the disaster, the whole outfit is painful. A green sack with a cinched hem won’t look good on anyone – I don’t care if you’re Kate Moss or my grandmother. JLo could be wearing a broken umbrella and a traffic cone and look better than this. But that’s not even my problem. You KNOW what my problem is. The only way these shoes make sense is if Olive Oil got in a car accident and had to be fitted with robotic parts and then the trauma caused her to turn to sex work. Yep, these shoes would be perfect for Olive Oil Robohooker, but other than that….mmmmnuh.

Exhibit B:

Now, I wouldn’t say this to Tyra’s face, cuz that bitch will fuck a girl up, but unless her shoes have a day job in a cafeteria dishing out macaroni and cheese, they need to rethink the shower cap look. High-heeled booties? What is she, at a fashion crime scene? ……..well, yes, in fact…….hmm…..there’s a joke in here somewhere……

Exhibit C:

*Sigh*

Ok, strangely enough, I’m actually feeling a little sorry for Jenna Jameson. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, she looks like an anorexic duck. Something terrible has happened. She may need soothing of some kind. BUT THE SHOES DON’T HELP. Not only are they hideous, they make her legs look like scrawny old jogging man legs. That is not a good look, even for actual old jogging men.

Can we agree that there is a trend happening here? A terrifying, illogical trend that needs to be stopped? Penny and I are on board with this. If you see further examples, please let us know.

Shameful Shoe Number 8 Bajeelion Meelion

There’s a lot I could say about this shoe.

Like, how there is no padding in the footbed and I can guarantee that the sole has no give so the whole thing just flops off the back of your foot when you walk, like you stepped on a giant piece of beef jerky and now you can’t get it off so it’s just flapping around, spanking your heels while you walk, attracting dogs and raccoons and shit. But what I really want to say is that as soon as I looked at this shoe I thought of this:

Which, incidentally, goes here:

And you know……I do appreciate my cervix.

Keeps the babies in, lets the babies out (in theory). Gets bruised once in a while. Prefers pads to tampons (we have agreed to disagree on this). Basically, we’re pretty close. So, if my cervix told me that it wanted to wear a little hat with a big fuckin piece of beef jerky hanging off it and to watch out for raccoons, I regret to say that our friendship would be seriously tested.

Giving Thanks

I looked at Slothville this morning and thought, “If I’m done writing about my heartache, what now? It’s the only thing I have anymore!” And then I realized I was being melodramatic and, duh!, a shoe post was in order.

In keeping with the season, today’s shoe post is all about things I am thankful for. (i.e. Shedding the manchild I’ve been dating before we moved in together.)

Regardless of what the Republicans would like people to believe, my fellow Democrats and I are grateful for our armed forces. We wish they weren’t dying in Iraq for no particular reason and we worry about the waning of soldier prestige because, um, we need them, but we are thankful for their sacrifices and their honor and their courage. That being said, we’re also glad no one in the military has to wear these fuckin’ things. Wait, back when Rumsfeld had a job it would have been funny to see him in these boots so I sort of take it back, but really, the only place these boots belong is wrapped around a roadside bomb.

On an equally stherious note, I’m soooper glad that everyone in the whole world understands that creepy, bondage-type straps and anything remotely paisleyish should never ever ever be anywhere near each other under any circumstances, amen.  Wait…GAH!!

This year I am very grateful to have learned Lesson in Love #10. Trying to be someone you’re not in order to meet someone else’s unfair expectations is generally a disaster (see above).

I am (for real!) thankful for those dogs that you can put a treat on their noses and they just sit there, all mournful and expectant at the same time, waiting for you to say, “Good job!!” so they can chomp the shit outta that shit.

Bunsen, doesn’t Sadie do that?

As you can see here, this poor fellow is in the midst of a sex-change operation. The surgeon has removed the weener and is now folding back the skin to form the labia. It is a complex and traumatic surgery that has come a long way in terms of success in the past decade. I am over-the-moon grateful to have been born the correct gender. For people whose souls and bodies don’t match up in that way, life can be pretty tortuous until (hopefully) they are able to have the gender reassignment. But, no matter how much I respect the long and difficult road that transgender people must travel, I don’t ever want to wear half a fake labia on my foot. I’m just saying.

And finally for today (you know what I’m going to say, right?), I’m just so thankful to not suck in every way imaginable. And that none of you do either.

What week?

Ok, two posts in one day when I just said I don’t have time to post anything. But this is IT for the week, I promise. I just had to point out that this year’s New York Fashion Week is…….the equivalent of booking a hotel room at the Crowne Plaza in Manhattan, getting on the plane, landing in Jersey and finding yourself at a Motel 6 where it is revealed that your room is actually the dumpster between the motel and the landing strip.

What is GOING ON WITH THESE DESIGNERS??? Ok, I’m just going to give you a little fug recap since the fug ladies are actually THERE at the moment and are not, in my opinion, doing their jobs very well. To whit:

“The problem with the [Luella] collection was that — despite including a dress that’s going to give you seven years of bad luck — it was actually kind of boring. After all, if you’ve seen one suit covered in big black and white letters, you’ve seen them all. And we saw, like, four of them.” Oh, good job ladies.
This was the snarkiest thing they had to say about a collection that included THIS:

Um, I don’t know. I think, if it were me, I’d say the problem is that the outfit is made out of the ugliest gift wrap that Goodwill ever agreed to try to re-sell and the pants taper to a MATCHING SHINY FLAT LACE-UP. That’s more than enough problems for one outfit. Oh, but there’s more. So much more.

There’s lots I want to say about the scrunched, tapered pink pants and the jacket and baq and the….everything, but I have to scroll down and stop looking at this picture now because the shoes are making me physically sick and I know you think I’m kidding or at least exaggerating but I swear, I’m not.

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Ok. So, they called Phillip Lim’s collection “cute in a floaty, ethereal way.” Um, yeah, I guess so, but it also happens to be phlegm-on-a-stick ugly.

It’s a mattress dust ruffle. Don’t even try to pretend otherwise.

Pockets? Really? Good one, Lim. Way to think it through.

Guess who was one satin bow away from being the butchest guy on the runway? Isn’t it amazing how one little piece of shiny fabric can make you the faggiest fag in gayland?

Two words: FANNY. PACK.

Two other words: NOT. OKAY.

Two final words: OHMYGODYOUSUCK. HOWDOYOUHAVEAJOBPHILLIPLIM.

Karen Walker’s collection is too easy a target, so I’ll just let this one outfit speak for itself:

I mean, with bonnets involved, commentary is totally unnecessary.

Things were looking promising with Prouenza Schouler:

Hummana!

But, alas….

This smooth awkward criminal came chicken-walking down the runway followed by…..

GAH!!!

A cruiseship cocktail dress made out of an Atari game. Holy fucking hell on earth.

I just had to say something. I mean, SOMEONE HAS TO SAY SOMETHING.

Monday Shoe Attempt (NSFW Scroll-Down)

I tried, people. I really, sincerely and truly tried.
I got this far:

This is a pair of galoshes, right? Green, rubber galoshes that you might throw on in the middle of the night before making the trek from your tent to the outhouse 30 yards down the trail, finding your way with the headlamp strapped to your forehead. I mean, we’ve all been there, yeah?

Or, hey, you could wear them clamming. They’re probably tall enough. The problem is, they don’t have cinchers at the top so you could lose a boot in the mud if you weren’t careful. The other problem is that they’re a Marc Jacob brand boot and they cost $150.

Yes, that’s what I said, ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS.

Ok, so here’s where everything went awry. I wanted to make some snarky comment about how you could get a pair of for-sure waterproof, army-green, heavy treaded rubber boots at any army surplus store for about $25 or less, but my google search for “green rubber boots” brought me rather quickly to this site and the next thing I knew I was lying next to the toilet, scrubbing my arms and legs with steel wool and crying for my mommy.

A few choice selections:

It’s……….I can’t really……..deal with this.

So, you see, I, um…..just couldn’t……..

………keep going……with the post. I’m sorry……..

“If you’d like help in returning to the Waders main page, please click my jockpouch. “

……but I have to go kill myself now.

Monday Shoe Shot

Just a quick reminder: some design concepts should be kept on the inside.

First up, the floppy bow. Now some people can rock the floppy bow and some people can’t. Case in point:

Oh, Betty. We know you didn’t vote because you forgot it was election day, and you didn’t even know who was running, and you had to go to the gynecologist, but girl! You are workin’ that patriotism like a champ! Way to go! On the other hand….

Ohhhhhhhh, Rosanna…….. Aidan Quinn is all, “If you don’t get that ratty piece of shit off your head right NOW, there is no way I’m letting you on my Chinese noodle delivery moped, Susan.”

Which brings us to Missoni and their $600 floppy bow wedge.

Whaaaaaaaa? What is even going on here? It’s a zigzaggy, rainbow frumpfest!

Notice how the knotted dish towel bow is all crooked like, “Look at me! I’m sporty and fun and I don’t NEED to be on straight!” Oy. Where’s Aidan Quinn when you need him?

Gah! Tssst!! (Yanking hand back) Some people just don’t age as well as others…. Never mind, Mr. Quinn, sorry to bother.

Ok, the inspiration for this next design seems pretty obvious to me. Are you sitting down? You should sit. Some of these images are so cute that they cause instant leg crumpling.

Oh! The nose slurp! Yee-ah!!

Uh! This wistful gazing into the distance is Killing. Us.

(Lifted from Cute Overload)

Uhhhhhh!! Don’t you just want to presssssssssss your thumb down on that little nose and see if the tongue comes out farther? And in the interest of equal species opportunity:

(Also lifted from C.O.)

And yet, this precious-to-the-point-of-absurdity inspiration goes terribly awry in the hands of Christian Lacroix.

One thousand twenty-four dollars? Really? I’d rather have a dog with NO tongue than pay for these retarded, no-reason-to-have-a-buckle boots. With a hot pink tab and a red heel? Yeah, I’m gonna say it again. REALLY?? Are ya sure about that?

Ok, Christian. Was I wrong about your inspiration? Did you actually get some twink’s tongue stuck in your belt buckle in the men’s room, sparking that lightbulb over your head?

Because that’s what it looks like.

Happy Monday everyone!

Shoe of the Day

The Pope steps out in style.

Dainty, isn’t he?

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