And thank Strunk & White (or, as one I-66 once called them, Crunk & Tight) for talented editors. Opposed to my usual offensive, abrasive and quite obnoxious self that I present here each day, I come off as kind of endearing over there. Or at least not crazy. Or drunk. Or both. OK, maybe a little drunk...and a little crazy...and offensive...and abrasive...and quite obnoxious...
But despite the flurry of words I donated to Washingtonian.com, I'm most proud of that outfit I'm wearing. Not only did I color coordinate my tights with my trusty bicycle, but I dressed for the holidays. Nightmare Before Christmas, anyone?
But before I allow you to spread your own demented holiday cheer (or whatever type of holiday cheer you prefer) I want to spread a little more of my own. Or at least a bit of my family's. I opened up the first Christmas present of the year yesterday and was more than delighted to find a rape whistle keychain from my aunt and uncle. It will surely be the gift that keeps on giving. Or rather, the gift that keeps others from giving. You come here for the caustic attitude and stay for the rape jokes, right?! Zing!
Oh shoot. One last thing. I just got e-word that a piece I penned for RUSSIA! magazine's "War and Fashion Issue" hit the news stands last week. (Do those still exist?) But for real, my article is currently not available online, at least according to Russian President Dmitry Medvedev:
So if you just can't wait to get my take on Russian first lady fashion from the year 882 AD to present day, then I suggest you head to these mythical news stands I speak of and pick up a hard copy today! Consider that my gift to you. Er, well, my gift to you that you actually bought yourself. Or something. But it's the thought that counts right? Da!
Outfit details: Dress--H&M (procured for $8 in San Francisco); Cardigan--Forever 21; Tights--Filene's Basement; Glovelets--NYC's Union Square street market; Ankle boots--Steve Madden.