Likely you’ve seen this by now, but the latest video which is part of Dove’s campaign focusing on “real beauty” is pretty powerful stuff. Apparently, the company’s research showed that only 4 percent of women consider themselves beautiful. That’s outrageous and sad – and I’m not being an overly generous pollyanna.
The problem is that women get caught in a vicious cycle. If we don’t believe we’re beautiful, we carry ourselves through the world with less confidence and that actually does impact the very things that make women beautiful: good posture, easy laughter, calm strength, breezy openness and contagious joy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: we are WAY harder on ourselves than others are – and it doesn’t work in our favor.
Leave it to the French to come up with the term “jolie-laide” – which translates as beautiful-ugly, meaning a woman who is pretty, but not conventionally so. The people who invented soignée, effortless chic have figured out that beauty takes many forms, and perfection is far from paramount. Jolie laide.
Watch Dove’s Real Beauty Sketches here.
Clockwise and completely bad ass and beautiful from the top: Rossy De Palma, Barbara Streisand, Frida Kahlo, Patti Smith, Lena Dunham
Previously on SB: Legs Astride Arms Akimbo
SB Tunes: RIP Chrissy Amphlett
Divinyls front woman, Chrissy Amphlett, died yesterday at age 53. She had breast cancer and MS – terribly sad. Less sad – in fact, completely awesome, was her rocker, sexpot, gamine music persona. She packed it in and busted it out – a total SB.
Plaid skirts and fishnets in her honor today, y’all.
Ask the SB: High Tops
Q: I read your recent confession regarding wedge high tops with great interest, but don’t you think high tops of any sort are too young?
Editor’s note: SB looks behind one shoulder, then the other, then shrugs.
A: Too young for whom?
Here’s the thing, Lane. A shoe (or class of shoes) can never be too young. It’s the person attached to the shod foot who can be too old. Chronological years, however, are but one part of the equation. Most important in determining whether any given shoe or shirt is right: personal style.
Chances are, if you dig it, you can wear it, because you will know how to style it so it looks appropriate and cool.
I’ve seen 60 year olds pull off clothes that many a 30 year old would shy away from. If you think back to college years, you’ll recall that matronly girls existed even back then – at the tender age of 19.
Age and style are bound by the most gossamer of threads, torn asunder by a mere breeze should a lady with some mojo and wherewithal spy a little something she can’t live without.
Me? I’d wear these with a dark skinny, a blazer and some big jewels. Not that it matters because age is but a number, dear. And it doesn’t apply to shoes.
As always, thank you for the questions!
Photo Credit: Ron Asadorian/Splash News
Previously on SB: Ask the SB – Denim Skirts
RIP Margaret Thatcher
“If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman.”
–Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher
Adidas: All In for My Girls
Kudos to Adidas for launching this brilliant global girl-power campaign called all in for #mygirls. Adidas aims to give sporty girls all over the world a forum to cheer each other on and share their love of sports (and, of course, buy their shoes). Regardless, this is an example of how corporate profit can (and should) dovetail with social change.
A company who celebrates the pounding hearts, flicking ponytails, sweat, smiles, injuries, sacrifices and triumphs of girl athletes who “eat boyz for breakfast” is a company whose message I buy. And shoes too.
Enjoy and share it with a Spectacular Girl.
Previously on SB: SB Loves Healthy Bodies
SB Tunes: Nina Simone
February 21st is the late, great Nina Simone’s birthday, so in honor of the High Priestess of Soul, some Nina on SB Tunes. Aside from having a hypnotically husky voice that slowly wraps you up like a sinuous boa constrictor and squeezes you breathless, she was an accomplished pianist, song writer, arranger and civil rights activist.
She also fired a gun at two different people in her lifetime, according to Wikipedia. A complicated woman, indeed. Diva-ness and medicated conditions aside, I love watching live footage of her because she really doesn’t try to dissimulate her feelings – for anyone. The disapproving arch of her eyebrows, the ornery set of her shoulders, it’s all right out there. But her music and her story and her talent are so staggering that they push through and shine. She is amazing, in spite of herself.
I love that about her. Check out Four Women. Powerful.
Cover Up, Or Else . . .
CBS’ Standards and Practice Committee has sent a “wardrobe advisory” to all the Grammy Awards attendees basically banning butt cracks, underboob, bare sides, sheer fabric and “female breast nipples”. Oh, and also the “puffy bare skin” of the genital region. WHAT is that?
Strange syntax aside, I think this is puritanical and lame. It’s the GRAMMYS!!!
I know I rail against our over-sexualized society where girls are getting the message that looks and sex are all that matter, but I don’t think the answer is to sartorially censor our artists and outliers. We just need to be throwing more love and attention to the brainy and the brave, so the whole panoply of self expression is on display.
If music people aren’t allowed to do it, who is left to push the boundaries of fashion and good taste, to toe the line of propriety and social mores, to challenge our understanding of sexuality, gender, art and swagger?
This smacks of nuns with rulers measuring the lengths of kilts and I don’t like it one bit.
Which is not to say that I won’t be watching in my sheer butt crack, underboob, female breast nipple revealing ensemble. You know, out of solidarity.
As always, I’ll be live-tweeting @specbitch. Grab your vino blanco and join in the fun.
Photo credit: Kevin Winter/Getty Images
The Beyoncé Bowl
Can we all just agree that Bey NAILED the half-time show? I couldn’t help but imagine poor Madonna (who was no slouch herself) sitting on her velvet throne, her nails digging into the armrests, cursing the day Mama Tina Knowles gave birth to that bundle of boot stomping, gilded-piped, bootilicious awesomeness.
I loved Beyonce’s bad-ass all-girl band, although I do think she missed an opportunity to bust out Run the World – GIRLS in that pantheon of testosterone. How cool would that have been? You boys can crash into each other all you want, have fun with your silly game and your too tight pants because GIRLS, WE RUN THIS MOTHA!
I also loved how Destiny’s Child popped out of the floor – the ladies have held up well and I look forward to seeing more of them. But no Say My Name? Come on.
And I loved that Bey chose an emerging designer, Rubin Singer, to make her ensemble. Considering it now seems de rigeur to be pants-less for any vocal performance, Singer’s jumpsuit hit the right notes. Apparently, it took over 200 hours to make and featured pieces of python, iguana and trapunto stitched leather* as well as chantilly lace.
The whole leather-to-lace ratio is a personal thing and deeply subjective, but to my taste, there was too much lace. Just like white skin in linen, it’s a tricky balance. As is perfume on my wrist. And the full moon that hangs over these dreams in the mist. Oh, never mind. I can think of exactly one person who’s still with me.
*quilting in which the design is outlined with two or more strips of stitches and stuffed from the underside. Who knew?
Let’s reminisce, shall we?
SB Tunes: GIRLS by Santigold
Y’all know I’ve got a lot of love for both Santigold and Lena Dunham’s cringe-y, brilliant Girls. So, of course I’m a fan of this song and video off of the Girls’ soundtrack for this season.
It’s refreshing to see females portrayed as fun, diverse and real – dancing, goofing and playing as opposed to posing, preening and pouting. Silly and joyous versus sexy and sad. We need to see more of this in our media culture, so girls can be girls – no matter what age.
And Santigold’s red fur hat? Want it.
The American Music Awards
Did you watch? I did and as always, I found it to be completely entertaining, though quite sedate, sartorially speaking. My two take-aways from the night are:
1. Notwithstanding the fact that harem pants (or Hammer pants, if you prefer, which I DO) never really took root for women, they seemed to be working for the men at the AMAs. The Biebs was sporting a skinny boy version, so be prepared – these just may stick.
2. I am strangely obsessed with the fingerless leather gloves Carrie Underwood wore for her performance – especially paired with a gown. I am so feeling these for holiday fests. What a cool way to edge up a look and get a little hand candy going at the same time. Am I crazy? Entirely possible.
Also, Pink needs to join Cirque du Soleil, Jenny McCarthy should not lose her wits and kiss the Biebs on the neck when his mom is sitting right there, Taylor Swift should wear a color for once in her life, everyone needs to cut it out with the pants-less performances (talking to you, Aguilera and Ke$ha), Gwen Stefani still rocks but that illusion netting shirt should be burned and Chris Brown needs to go away. Just away.
Enjoy some more Hammer pants, Gangnam-style:
Are Bond Girls Spectacular Bitches?
It’s easy to dismiss Bond girls as sexy, irrelevant throw-backs, but not so fast . . .
Writer, Deborah Lipp, provides a compelling feminist defense of Bond girls in this highly entertaining video essay. Written by Lipp and narrated by her sister, she puts Bond movies into cultural context and shows how the films did indeed introduce a new kind of woman in the early 60′s. These women could fight, fly planes, outwit, seduce and be gay – unheard of until then.
Lipp writes: Bond girls speak to the part of me that is both feminist AND femme. The Bond girl became my archetype of an independent and exciting woman; a vision of who I could become that was purely fantasy, but still spoke to the real me. As I grew up, she remained my role model and my fantasy self.
Fascinating. Enjoy some spectacular Bond girl hijinks:
Photo credit: Terry O’Neill/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.
SB Tunes: The Boss
As you know, we la la love men here at SB headquarters. Anything that reminds our sweet brothers to get themselves checked out and helps our guys stay healthy and strong, is a cause dear to our hearts.
So, in honor of Movember, I’ve decided to throw a little love at the boys for this month’s SB tunes.
To start us out, a manly man. A real man. A man more than a little likely to convince me to hop in and cruise down Thunder Road.
You Don’t Own Me
By Lena Dunham, fearless princess of cringe comedy and life truth.
Flights of Fancy: Herve Leger Fur-Trim Leather Harness Vest
I’m not sure what to make of my leather fetish lately, but I suspect it has something to do with the changing weather. This little beauty would do nothing more than keep my shoulders warm, but oh MotherMaryMagdalena would I feel HOT.
It has a bondage slash equestrian slash orthopedic slash Joan of Arc vibe and I do believe this vest would be just the thing to edge up all my party dresses this winter.
$2,200.00 seems a small price to pay for that kind of posture and attitude.
The sounds of dropping jaws would be deafening.
SB Strangely Drawn to Badass Fanny Pack
You gotta love Etsy. I can’t even begin to re-create the internet peregrinations that led me to this thing, but when I saw it I actually gasped. I have a love/hate relationship with clutches, you see, and despite the fact that they are sooooo pretty, I generally can’t bear to carry one around.
My after-dark prowling rarely involves sitting at a table where I can lay my clutch on a nice clean tablecloth and admire it in the candlelight. I’m usually standing, sometimes I’m dancing – and I can’t stand having to clasp something in my armpit for hours on end. A small purse swinging around on a chain drives me batty as well.
So what is a clutch-challenged SB to do? I’ll tell you. Pull up a chair.
Lips: numero uno reason for a clutch is to hold your lippy, so I just go with a super pigmented lipstick to start the night, leave it at home and stuff a tiny tube of Cherry Chapstick in my front pocket to moisturize as the night develops. It works. At two a.m. you’ll still have color but you won’t run the danger of intoxicated lipstick application across your face with it ending up in your teeth. Trust me on this one.
ID and cash: Back pocket. Simple.
Phone: Other back pocket. Also simple, if a little lumpy. Sometimes I don’t bring my phone. I know, scandalous.
Anything else: You don’t need anything else.
Which brings me to the “Blaster” made by Canadian-based Jungle Tribe. The fact that it holsters around the leg renders it less fanny pack and more, well, holster. And it’s hands free!
Badass, if you ask me. I would want something slightly less bulky and maybe a tad less Mad Max looking, but the idea is brilliant. Imagine! I could even bring a pack of gum!
Gratuitous Hotness: GQ’s 25 Most Stylish Films of All Time
For a little hump day eye candy, check out GQ’s slide show of the 25 most stylish films of all time. Colin Firth as the deeply sad and beautiful gay man in A Single Man is just to die for.
We love Colin around here at SB headquarters. In fact, we fully expect to peek out the window this winter and find him standing in the middle of the street with snow flying around him and settling in his hair after he realizes that the only thing keeping us apart are the artificial vagaries of a romantic comedy and that life is too short to spend even one more moment without his vexing yet beloved SB in his arms.
What was I saying? Oh yes, bookmark this list and work your way through this winter. Your netflix will be on fire and I’m thinking your ears will too – the soundtracks for most of these flicks are crazy good. Enjoy.
(Peep the video super cut here.)
Pussy Riot Gets Two Years
Incredibly, or maybe not so incredibly, the three members of Pussy Riot were sentenced to two years each in a Russian prison camp for hooliganism motivated by religious hatred. Two of them have children, whom they haven’t seen since they were arrested this past spring.
This seems awfully harsh. Their display was more silly than anything, if you ask me. So some babushkas got a little flustered during their morning prayers. Two years?
Stay strong, ladies.
Via Dangerous Minds
Free Pussy Riot
Photo credit: Anna Artemeva/AFP/Getty Images
Russian female punk band, Pussy Riot, is being detained for a protest performance they busted out in Moscow’s cathedral this past February. The charges are hooliganism motivated by religious hatred, but really they were protesting against Putin and making a statement about the separation of church and state. They just happened to do it in brightly colored ski masks and mini dresses on the altar of Moscow’s Christ the Savior Cathedral.
The three women have been in jail for five months and the trial has been a joke, complete with a disinterested judge and a savage Rottweiler, who strangely, gets to hang out in the courtroom frothing and snarling. There are allegations that the girls are being deprived of food and proper sleep, and other musicians, including Pete Townsend, Anthony Kiedis, Sting, Patty Smith and Alex Kapranos have come out in support of the group, demanding their freedom. They face a possible seven year sentence and a decision is expected this week!
Egads! What a nail biter!
Stay strong girls. And Putin, don’t be an asshole. Free Pussy Riot.
Photo credit: RIA Novosti Andrey Stenin
Readers, you simply MUST read this ESPN Magazine piece about the sexual escapades that go on in the Olympic Village.
It’s no wonder that all these beautiful young people with incredible er, endurance, go completely bananas in the Vegas-like confines of the Village, but I guess I didn’t realize it was such a rager. Apparently the Village is stocked with 150,000 condoms, which is 50,000 more than at the Sydney Olympics where they ran out!
Here’s a snippet from the article: And no matter your taste, the village has got you covered. The soccer girls? “All hot, and they dress like rock stars,” one male swimmer says. Male gymnasts? “They are like lovable little Ewoks,” Kintner says. Sacramone has a few favorites of her own: “As far as best bodies, it’s swimmers and water polo players, because that’s an insane workout. And the track guys, they’re sneaky-cute. Very serious, but when they lighten up, you’re like, ‘Oh, you’re kind of adorable.’”
Ewoks! I would steer clear of those, for sure.
Image credit: Noma Bar via ESPN Magazine
Ahem, SB. Apropos of high-waisted suits . . .
Editors Note: I love it when you all write to me, and I especially love it when I read something that makes me clutch my laptop to my chest with pride. Oh, my readers!
In response to my recent post where I tried, to no avail, to understand the role of high-waisted suits, Sarah sets me straight:
Q: Respectfully, I suggest some exceptions must be made:
Look here, here and here.
By the way, I want to say that the long wait paid off. I relish your SB column.
A: By the way, I want to say that you are brilliant, Sarah! Bravo! I always knew SB readers to be the fairest and cleverest of them all!
Thank you, dearest, for clarifying the raison d’être for a high-waisted suit: it is for the full figured gal, and on the full figured gal it looks nothing short of spectacular. Here I was scrolling through pictures of all these celebrity skinny minnies and scratching my head not understanding that the key element to making these suits successful is a voluptuous bod. You gotta fill that shit out!
Gabi Gregg, pictured above, is largely responsible for pioneering the “fatkini” movement (her term, not mine) and just wants plus size women to be able to strut their stuff and “be happy in the bodies we have right now.”
I’ll drink to that.
SB Tunes: Betty Davis
Not that Bette Davis. This is Betty Davis, one of the early female pioneers of funk and r&b. She was married to Miles Davis and was a funky, freaky and fierce SB who knew errybody. She introduced Davis to Jimi Hendrix thereby leading him down the electrified, psychedelic rock path that resulted in Bitches Brew. Apparently Miles Davis was going to name the album Witches Brew and she convinced him that Bitches Brew was better. It so is.
Rumor has it that her marriage ended because she had an affair with Hendrix, but all parties involved deny it and in his autobiography, Miles Davis describes her as “too young and too wild” for him. I’m going with that story.
Davis was no mere social butterfly of the funk world, no mere woman-behind-the-man, no mere Greenwich Village alley kitten. She wrote all her songs and produced all her albums after the first one. She even wrote the songs that got The Commodores signed with Motown Records. She was fiercely committed to doing things herself and her way.
She has a feral purr of a voice and was one of the first of the soul sisters to bring an overt sexuality to her music and performances. She used her thigh high silver boots to kick those bouffant hairdos and prim dresses back into the 60′s and sashayed into the 70′s with a mile high afro and sexy futuristic Ziggy Stardust-esque body suits. Young and wild, indeed!
I love that what she strutted was all her doing, all her idea. She had no handlers – she couldn’t be handled.
Enjoy Game is My Middle Name. Best song title ever. And my new motto.
SB Tunes: Joan Jett
It’s hot and I’m feeling a hot rocker chick for this edition of SB Tunes. I love Joan Jett. So much so that I dressed up as her once for a costume party. Let me tell you, it is highly satisfying to wear a shag wig and a studded belt.
Named by Rolling Stone as one of the 100 Greatest Guitarists, she is one of only two women on that list – the other being Joni Mitchell. Rolling Stone writes: In the earlier Runaways and the later Blackhearts, she played it straight ahead: No frills, all heart, no fucking around.
Bad ass, unapologetic and fuck-you sexy (yes, that’s a kind of sexy) – Jett rocks.
Put another dime in the jukebox, baby.
SB Tunes: Lauryn Hill
To me, Lauryn Hill is as good as it gets. Rapper, singer and songwriter, she’s a lady with a point of view, a plan and an inimitable voice: steel and silk and a bit of rasp, oh. I loved her in the Fugees and her solo album, The Miseducaton of Lauryn Hill, is one of my all time favorites.
When she opted out of the music industry and public life after her first couple albums, she was immediately enswirled in rumors of having gone off the deep end. It couldn’t have had anything to do with marrying Rohan Marley and those FIVE CHILDREN, could it? That would be enough to send anyone off the deep end, or at the very least, into a protracted coccoon-phase.
A few years ago, I watched a documentary called My Mic Sounds Nice and it became clear that Ms. Hill (as she likes to be called) is the ne plus ultra for women in hip hop and also, just hip hop. Watch this clip to see what everyone from Questlove to Missy Elliot has to say about her.
At time when hip hop was a man’s game and women MC’s were seeking to stake their claim by either being hyper sexual à la Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown or by hiding in baggy track suits à la Missy Elliot, Lauryn Hill sailed out and did her thing exactly how she wanted to. There was no look, no schtick, it was all her. Drop dead gorgeous, true to herself and fiercely talented.
SB Tunes: Santigold
Singer, songwriter, producer, rapper and all around cool chick, I LOVE Santigold and her new album, Master of My Make Believe, is in heavy rotation in my world.
Her music and her look defy categorization. I imagine her walking through life with a huge grin and sticky fingers, plucking whatever catches her eye or strikes her fancy, putting it in an enormous basket and figuring out a way to use it later.
Santigold sounds like electronica, new wave, punk, hip hop, reggae, and riot grrl all rolled into one contagious, irrepressible and dance-inducing fever. And the way she puts herself together reflects the same sensibility: colorful, over-the-top, ever sure-footed but wild. She’ll wear a bedazzled white leather jumpsuit with the same ease as a pair of jeans and Chucks.
She is one of those women whose outside is a true manifestation of the creativity, playfulness and smarts happening on the inside.
And can we talk about those gold monkey glasses? I want.
Photo credit: Márton Perlaki for Spin Magazine
SB Loves: Healthy Bodies
Vogue editor and Spectacular Bitch, Anna Wintour, used her June letter from the editor to celebrate the fact that 18 other International Vogue editors have co-signed a letter that furthers the goals established by the CFDA in its 2007 Health Initiative, which were meant to turn the industry’s tide toward more healthy and realistic portrayals of beauty.
I think it’s a lovely sentiment, but query whether they’re making much progress as Wintour writes: “At Vogue we’ve just finished a commemorative book that will come out later this year to celebrate our 120th anniversary, and I was startled to see how many of the wonderful models we’ve worked with over the years—the super era included—would be considered far too big by today’s standards.”
The irony of rising obesity and rising incidence of eating disorders is a symptom of just how sick our cultural relationship to food has become. How can we be so obsessed and still be so fat? Or how can women look so great, but feel so shitty? Or how can young girls be trying to shrink when their bodies are supposed to grow?
It’s good that the fashion folks have acknowledged this issue, but we can hardly rely on an industry based on outward appearances to be the cure.
To my mind, being a Spectacular Bitch comes from the inside and simply manifests on the outside. It is about mojo. Swagger. Confidence. But that comes from feeling happy and whole. If I were the queen, I would decree a diet of books and sports for growing Spectacular Girls, because it’s about what we think and do, not about how we look.
Photo credit: Annie Leibovitz for Vogue 2009
Enjoy the sexy Adrian Brody in this ad for Lacoste. This if for the girls (and guys) who prefer a fucked up face to a pretty boy.
Be still my beating heart . . .
Not a lot of people know this, but Spectacular Bitches have this song playing in their heads every time they walk in a room.
RIP Robin Gibb.
Legs Astride, Arms Akimbo Part 2
Ever since I read that study about the power of taking up more space, I can’t help noticing that American women are suffering from an epidemic of arms crossed over chest.
It’s as if we’re all stuck in middle school, enduring the constraints of our itchy new training bras and trying to evade the pervy gaze of be-pimpled Chucky Sneed.
It not only looks bad, it is bad. Standing like this rounds the shoulders, contracts the pecs and abs and stretches out the back muscles – the ones that help us stand up straight. It’s the bad posture equivalent of hunching over a computer all day.
Worse yet, standing with crossed arms makes you seem uptight, defensive, meek. Who wants that?
Listen up ladies – arms down, chin up, chest out. And all those Chucky Sneeds can take a good long look and then go straight to hell.
Legs Astride, Arms Akimbo
In my youth I stumbled upon these four words, arranged in just this way and I fell head over heels. Legs astride, arms akimbo. It’s like hilarious poetry.
Somehow, by using special words . . . better words, regular ‘legs apart with hands on hips’ conjures something ways more interesting: a handsome cowboy squinting into the sunset before turning around and casting a long shadow over Delila Mae’s bent form as she fusses over her okra patch. She feels his blue eyes on her neck like the touch of his cool fingers. She looks up through a curtain of lashes and there he is, standing legs astride, arms akimbo. As if in a dream, she rises slowly, straightens her skirt and falls into his powerful, trembling embrace . . . Right? RIGHT?
But that has nothing to do with anything. What I’m really here to report is that Harvard social psychologist, Amy Cuddy, has found that legs astride, arms akimbo is a really good way for women to stand. It not only connotes power to those around you, it tricks your brain into feeling powerful too.
In short, according to the snippet I read in Wired Magazine, taking up more space (e.g. arms over chair backs, feet on desks) makes a person exude confidence both because of how it’s perceived, but also due to real chemical changes in the brain that make you feel more confident.
This study dovetails brilliantly with one of the most important SB Tenets of all – stand up straight!!! Listen to your mother and throw those shoulders back. Good posture is EVERY THING. It doesn’t matter what you have on, if you don’t have good posture.
And if you’re feeling it, stand legs astride, arms akimbo and think of that brawny Jeremiah, tilling the soil, down on his knees, his muscular forearms covered in sweat . . . just waiting for a word.
SB Loves: Tomboy Style
I’ve been a fan of Lizzie Garrett Mettler’s blog, Tomboy Style, for many moons. I’m a tomboy myself. It’s true. All spectacular bitchiness aside, I’m a t-shirt and jeans and barefoot kind of girl – with a dollop of Latina homegirl, a pinch of rocker chick and a sprinkling of bejeweled octogenarian doyenne thrown in for good measure.
Some day we’ll sit down with a bottle of wine and talk about all the different flavors of Spectacular Bitch, but for now, back to the tomboy.
Lizzie has turned her cool blog into a cool book, and I for one, cannot wait to get my grubby little hands on mine. I will sit in the sun, with a glass of wine with two ice cubes and devour Tomboy Style from stem to stern. Watch this short video of the adorable Lizzie talking about how her book came to be and you’ll want to do the same.
Can you say girl crush? Sigh.
Photo credit: Osa Johnson Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum
Well, not really. More like Beyoncé tumblrs. My iPhone burst into a mad hot ball of flames last Friday with all the brouhaha on twitter about Beyonce’s new tumblr.
She seemingly birthed it as easily breezily as she birthed that wee Blue Ivy – and it’s voyeuristic eye-candy to the max. The stream is basically lots of beach pics, yacht pics and Beyoncé looking fabulous pics. You know, a day in the life.
What I want to know is – who follows her around snapping pictures all day long? Could it possibly be Jay Z? Nah. Still, lucky Bey.
Photo credit: Beyoncé’s tumblr
Good News for Sewer-Mouthed SBs
I have long been a rabid supporter of equal opportunity for ALL words, whether filthy and profane or pure as the white driven snow.
Sometimes, I like to string them together in long, vertiginous, melodious, hair-raising strands punctuated by nothing more than the ever satisfying syncopation of strategically placed F-bombs.
And now, I can rest easy that my penchant for cussing is actually a plus in the work place, winning me friends and relieving stress.
Best fucking news I’ve heard all day.
SB Tunes: Blondie
It’s hard to talk SBs without talking music. Being spectacular comes from the inside – like music. It’s not so much about what you wear, but how you wear it. Not about who you know, but who you are. It’s not about perfection, it’s about point of view. It’s confidence, attitude and bringing something unique to the table.
I’ve decided that on Fridays I’m going to treat myself to a little SB tuneage highlighting SBs past, present and in the making. I have no preconceived notions of where this is going and who I’m going to feature, but I do know my net will be wide and my heart will be racing. Hope you love it.
First up. Debbie Harry. Of course. The queen of glitter pop. The princess of punk. The sheba of the shag. Sexy on her own terms, Blondie walked the line, no – created the line between glammy girl and tomboy. Enjoy a little Dreaming. And check her out in this commercial for Gloria Vanderbilt by Murjani.
Dreaming is free.
Oh, yes. Mos def. Having a penoose does not disqualify.
But what’s the common denominator, aside from the fact that they are all amazing musicians?
Sartorial flair? Check. Fearlessness? Check. Excellent hair? Check. Attitude? Check. Sensuality? Ferocity? Ability to BRING IT? Check! Check! Check!
Clockwise from top left, for your viewing pleasure: Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Liberace, Prince, Freddie, Mercury.
Tip the SB: Stop Saying St. Patty’s Day!
On behalf of all the Irish people, please, please, please do NOT refer to St Patrick’s Day as “St Patty’s Day”.
The abbreviation of Paddy’s Day is acceptable (nay colloquial!) but “Patty” is like rubbing a cat’s fur the wrong way. Doing it in Ireland may get you spectacularly thrown out of a pub! Apart from that, keep up the good work SB and MB!
Thanks for the tip! I try to avoid pissing off entire nations, ethnic groups, furry cats and fiery Irish lassies whenever possible.
I find it outrageous that I attended the University of Notre Dame for four years and they never taught us this. What the hell was that leprechaun up to all that time? He needs to be doing less tumbling at football games and more public service announcements. A wasted four years, I tell you!
Now excuse me while I go paint a shamrock on my cheek.
Because I Love You Guys
Paul Newman and Robert Redford playing a little shirtless pingpong – from the fabulous Tumblr Awesome People Hanging Out Together.
Sigh. Wishing for another place, another time, on the other side of that net!
You are very welcome.
Dessa Lays it Down
Ever wonder what female rappers think about all the” bitches and hos” languishing on the hoods of cars and behind the VIP ropes of a hip hop song?
Minneapolis-based essayist, rapper, and member and CEO of Doomtree, Dessa, writes a smart, incisive op. ed. piece that not only challenges the role of misogyny in rap music, but the presumption that you can’t be a real fan, without, at least, a tacit acceptance of the “rough talk.”
Poetic and fierce, as is her way, she lays it down: If your conscience wouldn’t let you say it, don’t buy it. Leave your wallet in your pocket and keep your money off a mic you wouldn’t put your mouth to.
photo credit: Kai Benson
Ask the SB: Mom Swimsuits
Q: First, love your site! I’m excited to hear about your experiences and learn from your advice.
With Spring Break approaching, I’d like your advice on a topic many of us struggle with. I’m a mid-30s mom with a good to average body (probably closer to the average side of that spectrum, BTW). I’m too old, and not quite fit enough to completely rock a bikini, but way too young and hot (at least my hubby says so) to be wearing a one-piece. My compromise has always been a bikini top with swim skirt or shorts. What’s a mom to do to look hot, yet respectable?
-B from Edina
A: B from the E! I’m not going to spend a lot of time trying to convince you that a one-piece suit can be über-sexy, because it sounds like your mid-drift is one of your fortés, so a two-piece is good for you.
If I’m reading between the lines with the swim skirts, etcetera, I’m guessing that baby’s got back. My biggest advice is this: OWN IT! I’m going to refrain from breaking into my Sir Mix-A-Lot, but you might want to queue it up before you go bathing suit shopping.
You’re a mom, you’re young, your hubby thinks you’re hot. Who cares what anyone else thinks? Who cares about respectable?
I think American women are way too shy about their bodies and WAY too tough on themselves. We need to be more like the Europeans and let it all hang out. Strut your stuff, sister. It’s all in the swagger, I swear.
Having said that, there are definitely certain styles that are more flattering on certain body types, allowing you to strut with more confidence. In lieu of swim skirts or a full-on short, try a bikini with a boy short. They are adorable and sexy, while offering a little more coverage – perfect for chasing those kiddies around the pool.
Good luck, happy swimming and remember this:
Advanced Style: Age and Beauty
Do yourself a favor. Watch this short film by Lina Plioplyte featuring the fashion doyennes of Ari Seth Cohen’s Advanced Style blog.
For starters, Cohen’s blog is worth checking out because style is style, no matter what age. Cohen’s ladies are bright, funny and full of joy – and his genuine affection and respect for his subjects shines through in his beautiful photos.
Hearing these gals talk about fashion, about why they dress the way they do, is inspiring. One of the perks of growing older is giving less and less of a shit what others think. We should all take a page from their book.
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