Category Archives: LaMont Jones

Early 2000s Olsen Sisters Homeless Couture

I have to tread carefully here because this article was written by a freelancer and I don’t want to be mean or to be snarky just for the sake of being snarky as I could with LaMont Jones, who I miss terribly.

There is a fashion article in the P-G today entitled “Pittsburgh Fashion:  Layering in Lawrenceville.”

Snippets of interest:

Shit.

I can’t even pick out snippets of interest because the whole damn thing is amazing.  You really have to go read it from start to finish to understand why I’m writing about it.  But, let me try again:

The two young writers subscribe to a philosophy of “trash can couture,” which can only be achieved by the most creative of souls.

Mr. McCloskey, 22, is proof that one man’s trash is another man’s fashion. His black shoes and gray pants were salvaged from the trash, and his slate-colored shirt last belonged to a man who passed away in a nursing home. It adds a polished look underneath his white sweatshirt with a CIA emblem. A gray jacket that Mr. McCloskey has had since junior high school brings his eclectic look together.

Now you see why I can’t ignore this article?  He is wearing two articles of clothing he personally found by rifling through the trash and a shirt from a dead old guy and it is all described as … POLISHED?! In the fashion pages of One of America’s Great Newspapers?! Would you like to see his polished look?

What she calls polished, eclectic, trash can couture,  I call “Raj from The Big Bang Theory.”

This writer, who previously described black jeans and a sleeveless black t-shirt as “savvy” “head-turning” “eye-candy,” almost succeeds in describing what sounds like a homeless guy, as a hipster with his finger of the pulse of trash can couture (I can’t believe I just typed those three words in that order.  What’s next? Trash can cuisine?)

What bothers me is how the P-G portrays fashion in Pittsburgh — as either $3,000 of the fuggest, sternest, harshest clothing ever to be sewn together, or some random crap I found in the trash. Why is it either Ivana Trump meets Mad Max of Thunderdome, or drunk guy rolling in his own piss?  Where’s the middle ground that says, “You guys, look at this adorable dress over at Mod Cloth that an average Burgher could actually afford and actually wear!  How cute and happening and not homeless at all is THAT?!”

Also, if you read the entire article in that beat poet format I wrote about yesterday? It totally works.

“Scarves. Pea coats. Leggings.  SCARVES. PEA COATS. Leggings. [snap] It’s cold. [bongo drum] Hand me down. Trash to treasure. Homeless man couture. [snap snap] Addams family. Values. Not a wrestler. Not a wrestler. CIA. Stop. [bongo drums] [drag of cigarette] Go. Rosy cheeks. Double-breasted. But not four boobs.  Quizzical. [snap] Stride on. Stride on. Layers peeled away. Smoke curls. My horizon has no beach. [snap] [single bongo beat] [rips head off of a pigeon].”

Where can I find an amateur open mic night, because I have found my calling.





$3,000 of fug

You remember when the Post-Gazette revealed their Plush section, right in the midst of economic turmoil, right?

The Plush section’s motto is “Your guide to gracious living” where “gracious” means “HOLY SHIT WE HAVE A LOT OF MONEY TO SPEND!”

Plush revealed their Holiday Season fashion guide yesterday. In it you will find such gems as this:

Plan intimate dinner parties and impromptu cocktail parties at home, and be sure to do it with high style. Light the candles, dim the chandelier, build a fire and pop the cork of that great champagne you’ve been saving for a special occasion.

“Impromptu cocktail parties?” What do the rich do? Wait until 20 of their friends unexpectedly show up in their finest attire and then have the chef whip up some hors d’oeuvres and cocktails? (I’m a little embarrassed to admit how many tries it took me to get hors d’oeuvres close enough to correct so that spell check could fix it for me.)

Gem #2

Submit to underwear as outerwear.

Kinky!

Gem #3:

• Sharp shoulders — Back to the future, the sharp-shouldered jacket is at its best paired with slim pants or leggings and a confident attitude.

Here’s an example of such an outfit put together by the P-G:

The P-G describes this outfit as this:

Tuxedo jacket, $1,950, and draped pant, $965, by Balenciaga; shoes and gold and silver cuff bracelets from the Balenciaga fall/winter 2009 runway collection, courtesy of Emphatics, Downtown.

“Draped pant.”  I can’t even tell you how hard I laughed at “draped pant”.

Now, regular people don’t describe this outfit as tuxedo jacket and draped pant, we describe this outfit as:

“What in the name of the love child of LaMont Jones and Julie Bologna are you wearing?  Is this outfit your interpretation of what Joan Crawford would wear if she was captain of the Starship Enterprise? And while I appreciate the Steelers theme of your … well … I don’t know,  I can’t call them SHOES, that’s for damn sure,  I gotta tell you that you seem to have gotten a fabric softener sheet stuck in the back of one of them.  Also, I took some messages for you while you were out.  Christopher Walken wants his hair back, the entire female cast of Dynasty wants their shoulder pads back, MC Hammer wants his ‘draped pant’ back, and Tom Brady would really really like his shoes back.”

So if you’re walking downtown one evening in the cultural district and you see a scarily dressed woman with severe hair, pointy shoulders, and a bra over her sweater, stumbling about on shoes that would kill a sex-enraged rhino, never fear.  She’s not drunk or crazy.

She’s just rich.





He’s got legs …

Burghers, please meet your newest Bucco of Suckitude, Akinori Iwamura, a second baseman acquired from Tampa.

Researching this man in preparation for meeting him at the airport with a giant banner that says, “WELCOME TO THE SUCK!” I found this picture:

iwamura

And I thought, hmm, not bad looking at all.  He could be my Asian eyecandy replacement for Byung Hyun Kim, who I sorely miss.

Then reader Carpetbagger sent me this picture of Akinori:

sports_excitem_2029204

And I had three thoughts:

1.  We have a new contender for the Quadzilla moniker.

2.  Somewhere, LaMont Jones just gave this outfit two thumbs up.

3.  I can’t decide which song now running on repeat in my head is more annoying: “She’s got legs … and she knows how to use them.” or “We wear short shorts. If you dare wear short shorts Nair for short shorts.”

Either way, I’m poking my eyes out.





Random n’at.

1. [mommyblogging] Yesterday was the occasion of childhood birthday party madness and the madness that gets heaped upon that madness and then the madness of cookie, cake, ice cream, and pop-addled screaming children madness that gets heaped upon those madnesses and just yesterday I decided birthday parties for children are unnecessary evils and I’m SO over them and next year it will be, “Good happy birthday morning!  Here are your birthday Frosted Flakes and your birthday milk and LOOK! a special birthday spoon that looks just like every other spoon in this house.  Now don’t be late catching your birthday bus because you don’t want to be late for your birthday math test and then when you get home, you will do your birthday homework before birthday dinner and then you can open your birthday gifts, after which, brush those birthday teeth and hit that birthday bed, BIRTHDAY BOY! WOO! High five!”

Also, my sisters and I NEVER had birthday parties growing up.  We’ve survived with minimal therapy.

[/mommyblogging]

2.  Some of you are asking what I mean when I say that Random Number Generator is picking the winner of my giveaways, and some of you are asking to see this mysterious Random Number Generator, but I can’t show it to you, because it is in my secret witch’s room in my house where I keep my crystal ball, my dead pigeon sacrifices, and various self-united husbands chained naked to the wall.   I’m kidding … it’s right here. Every contest is decided by that little doohickeythingimajigabob. Technical term.

3. A rhino has apparently bit the thumb off of a Zoo worker.  That’s terrible and further proof that animals, a great majority of them, are scary deadly beasts.  I’m afraid of most all animals to the point that when I go to the zoo, I swear the monkeys look at me for the sole purpose of determining which appendange they will rip off first after they break through the glass and give me a disease.  UPDATE: The thumb was merely crushed. Not severed, but crushed. “Crushed” is the answer we were looking for.

4.  Pittsburgh will host one of the UN’s World Environment Day sites in 2010.  This is awesome provided we don’t all have to stay home for it and provided it doesn’t attract any bridge danglers.

5.  Tonight is the night that Jim Lokay and I will be bartending at the Glass Center for the ESPRIT event. I initially thought I only had to serve beer and wine, but now that I’ve seen the bartenders guide, I realize that I have to also serve a few mixed drinks.  I have the capability to muck this up to the tune of epicness.  Also, world, I am not a fashionista.  I do not care that I wore the same black shirt to the Pittsburgh Magazine Best of Pittsburgh party that I wore to the Las Velas grand opening (still have to write that story up).  And I do not care that I’m making a major fashion booboo and am wearing white tonight.  Call it Winter White.  Call it I Don’t Have Anything Else to Wear White.  Call it LaMont Would Burn You Alive For That White.  Call it Bite Me White.

6.  We haven’t seen this lately, have we:

That was a nice trip down memory lane.  I miss LaMont.

7.  A few What the Effies for you.





Awkward.

OMG.  This is so awkward.

Didn’t anyone tell Dockers that you’re supposed to pack up all of your khakis by early September at the latest?  You’re NOT supposed to be purchasing them for Christmas and winter and snow.

Dockers, I got one word for you.  Moleskin.