Hi pumpkins!
I haven’t had many sartorial observations lately to share with you, but I just wanted to pop in and say that if you were reading the latest edition of Real Simple magazine and if you were thinking, “Oh wow, the women in the make-over section totally looked better BEFORE they got messed with,” you and PeaceBang were singing the same song.
Woo, awful! This one cute freckled woman winds up with caked-on foundation settling in her creases, cadaverous lips (and I know whereof I speak – I’ve actually seen a cadaver!), and horrifying stripes in her previously pretty brown hair. Eek! Poor thing! It’s one thing to have kind of wild streaks when we’re young and fresh-faced (and even then, a more subtle version of wild will be more flattering on everyone), but after fifty or so you never want to put harsh streaks all over your head. It just looks desperate and bizarre, like the time I fell asleep with henna on my head and woke up with Ronald McDonald Orange hair. Good thing I was eighteen years old. I simply chopped off one side of my hair into a then-fashionable asymmetrical crop and went off to college a happy pumpkin-flavored girl. I have been a red-head of some sort or another since that day. Wait: except for a year we should all forget about when I sported a brown perm frizz. David, are you reading this? How could you look at me with a straight face?
ANYhoo, having flipped through my pal’s edition of Real Simple with her on Monday night, we both felt very strongly that the women generally looked atrocious in all the fashion features and that we would like to formally recommend that they get a new stylist.
Consider that free advice, Real Simple. Otherwise I like your magazine just fine, although some of your articles and tips make me think that you have the Martha Stewart disease, which affects the brain in such a way as to assume that people like to spend their free time hot-glueing ribbon trim onto lampshades and organizing kitchen drawers alphabetically.
Y’know, I was flipping through it at the supermarket (I refuse to pay their not so simple prices, and I am grateful to you for reviewing magazines for us!) and thinking EXACTLY the same thing. Ugh!
I have a very deep and bitter loathing for Real Simple. It’s a gazillion pages of “articles” that are actually ads, just like every other magazine. But they package it in the virtuous name of wealth with a “conscience.” Because yes, kids, a conscience is something you must display in the goods you own, and it doesn’t come cheap.
Their stylist is the least of their problems.
What Rev. Perpetua said.
Is there something wrong with alphabetized kitchen drawers? Oh my…
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