Monday, February 23, 2009

Style Forecast

Anything for Selenas!

That's right girls, I said it, I called it, you read it here first.

Selena, who never stopped being a fashion/hair/music/ lipliner icon for some of us will resurface on the gutter streets soon, like soon soon. I'm currently wearing a long- sleeved mauve semi- precious gem encrusted unisuit that accentuates the derriere. Twink tanktop impresario Alexander Wang, who dresses the well- heeled and slovenly, is referencing the first 90210 incarnation in blazers and bustiers. Derek Lam is channeling your mom circa '91 with over sized blazers, jumpsuits abound in their ubiquity, and Mexico is all up in the hipster lexicon lately. Next stop is south of the border!

So eat your heart out Anna Wintour. Or give me a job.

Can anyone give me a job?

From top right:
1. Loves it!!!
2. Perfection.
3. Channeling Asian strip mall glamour shots.
4. A cheap impostor, but you're beginning to understand...

How Paloma Got Her Groove Back

Ay mamacitia boriquita pecita juega pequetitia!!!!!! Vacation slide show! Now that I have captivated you dear readership (mom) in a precarious combination of horror and intrigue, I inflict a spring break scarp book upon your retinas. No wait please don't go, you're so lovely and I'll be far too lonely....

Here are some highlights:

1. Ponies! Ponies! Ponies! Everywhere! Ponies'll getcha groove back.

2. Puerto Rican men are such cads! My menagerie of gentleman callers (wow mixing Tennessee Williams metaphors), is characterized by small time drug pushers and Romanian club promoters, now extends to the adolescent castaway demographic. A car full of these Boy Scouts did a drive- by of me and Pecas screaming, "Hey motherfuckers!" I deduced that they were either my new besties as only my friends can speak to me that way, or that they imagined this phrase was synonymous with other "F" verbage. Puerto Rican boys are full of sugar.

3. A band was born, and we are called One Man's Trash. If you are a USF alumnus or a very bad man who lived in San Francisco between 2002 and 2006, you may be familiar with the screeching shrill of the artists formerly known as the Unfuckables. As is Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds/ Grinderman, so is The Unfuckables/ One Man's Trash. A satellite project. Hits include "Slow Boat to Nowhere" and "Soverit." My stage name is Small Game. You may henceforth refer to me as such.

Please don't molest me.

I have never been cooler than at right.

See the world through Pecas' evil eyes at

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Spittin' That Hot Game

Asking boys you used to eff with to be your valentine?! HOLLA! "Repellant;" self- described?! OH HELL YEAH! "Prototypical dream bitch?" Perplexing and troubling... I don't know if this is complimentary.