h.b., me, h.b.!

Ahem. I dedicate this post to myself. Why? 'Cause it's my golden birthday, that's why! Twenty-nine on the 29th. Ouch!

But surprisingly, it's not as painful as I thought it would be. Why? Because unlike when I was, say, 19 -- TEN YEARS AGO (good gracious...) -- I can now afford to buy myself nice birthday gifts. Being poor is for college kids. Suck it!

Anyway, since I've already dedicated this to myself, I might as well really feed my narcissistic, even megalomaniac, tendencies and post gratuitous photos of some recent outfits, which include my birthday purchases. I ♥ Capitalism (almost) as much as I ♥ myself and I ♥ myself just about as much as I h8 terrorists! Loving terrorism is for terrorists. Suck it!

Um, sucking it aside, though, let's get down to paying attention to me. My first rather completely unnecessary purchase is a pair of expensive sunglasses. Whoops?


Comparing them to my Target wayfarers, I can definitely see the difference in quality, however, plastic is plastic and my foot will bust a $150 pair of sunglasses just as well as a $15 pair. I do love the two-toned gold on black, though, which is what goaded me into buying these in the first place. Plus, they go great with Topsiders.

David Caruso-ing it!

As you can see, I keep toilet paper, random cords and dumbass facial expressions handy at all times. Tight. Anyway, I wore this yesterday to the MGMT concert (which, indeed, I found a last-minute face-value ticket for and will be blogging about later). It's very indicative of what I've been doing lately, which is mixing together colors that society says traditionally don't go together, like brown and black. Well, "society" can get in line to suck it with the college kids and terrorists -- I'll make that sh*t work like a child in Bangladesh. (WHOA! Child-labor joke! SCORE!)

And to go with my retardulously expensive shades, I had on a retardulously expensive piece of jewelry (a.k.a. yet another perfect item for me to lose and/or break!), a chunk of Lithuanian blue amber. I'm 100 percent 50/50 that a child crafted it, too. (J/K!...sort of...)

Hey, who remembers that band Split Enz? I love them. Clearly.

But beware literate thieves and criminals with refined taste (for blogs and jewelry), this pendant cost me 878 Lithuanian litas and a good deal of Eastern European haggling, so if you try to snatch it off my neck I will cut you with the dull plastic knife I carry in my bag. Not joking:



But alas, muggers and no-gooders, I'm not wearing that lovely chunk of hydrocarbon-filled fossilized tree resin today, so consider yourselves foiled. Today, I'm dressing on the cheap (save for the bag), which is a very fitting way for me to start off me 29th year of life on this here planet. Everything I'm wearing I got on sale...but, like, really on sale. I think it was Dostoevsky who said, "Clearance racks will save the world," if I'm not mistaken.

I'd be remiss, however, to attribute this outfit entirely to my frugality. Nope. This Happy Birthday outfit is at least 75 percent inspired by the famous lyrics of "White Pants," written by DLake, who composes 50 percent of the venerable Baltimore music duo, Claire Huxtable: "White pants, white pants make you wanna dance (x3)/Caucasian-colored fabrics, swim through drawers like Labyrinth/ I'm messin' with ya'll g-clean/ Hipsters, yuppies knowin' what I mean." Not only does that string of words make absolutely no sense and perfect sense at the same time, but it inspired me to swathe my ass in nothing but Caucasian-colored fabrics:

"Black skin, white skin, pink skin, light skin, Labor Day white -- still ain't dislikin'!" -- DLake.

Yes, but now I must make like Usher circa 2004 and make some confessssssions! Those pants you see there? They're actually a really light gray. I don't own white pants! However, as an apparent hipster-like yuppie, I know what DLake means. *wink!*

And while DLake never mentions open-back shirts or chunky-heeled gladiator sandals, I'm pretty sure that's also implicit in the meaning. Like a bass-thumping dance floor, DC's streets are hot, humid and filled with sh*t to bump into, except instead of other people, it's usually Bob Novak's douchemobile. Anyway, this means that you need to keep both cool and sturdy, hence, the open-back T-shirt and stalwart sandal. Yet while I am usually staunchly opposed to any sort of chunkiness in heel, something about these Nine West strappy shoes made me rethink my moratorium. Or maybe it was the $15 (!) price-tag:

"I can see them drawers that you're wearing/ White pants, white pants, white pants make you dance!" -- DLake.

And so, there it is. My megalomaniac tribute to myself on this very first day of my Year 29. Not bad. I believe I covered all the bases with the inclusion of not only a sweet shot of my ass, but also of my street knife. Now, clearly, it's time for me to imbibe some delicious liquor.

P.S. -- Happy Birthday to everyone else born on this fair day, including at least one of this blog's readers that I know of and, of course, Bryan Dattilo, who you might know as Lucas from Days of Our Lives. Good luck getting Sami back, buddy!

Outfit No. 1 details: Top, H&M; Pants, Express; Shoes, Sperry Topsiders; Sunglasses, Ray-Ban; Pendants, 1 vintage Tiffany, 1 handcrafted by my late grandpa, and 1 bought in Vilnius, Lithuania.

Outfit No. 2 details: Top, Forever 21; Pants, Urban Outfitters; Shoes, Nine West; Bag, Pietro Alessandro.