..and yet they are my guilty pleasure to a T.
however, in saying all of that, the following article made me giggle and nod my head in agreement.
someone had to say it:
'Sex and the City 2 takes everything that i hold dear as a woman and as a human — working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled c*** like it’s my job — and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. it is 146 minutes long, which means that i entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache.
let us start with the 'plot.'
Carrie Bradshaw: at the end of the first SATC movie (2008) — after eleventy decades of chasing his emotionally abusive jowls through the streets of Manhattan — Carrie finally marries Mr. Big, the man of her shallow, self-obsessed dreams. it has now been two years since their nuptials. Carrie already hates it. she hates that he sits on the couch. she hates that he eats noodles out of a take-out box. she hates that he wants to spend quality time with her in their incredibly expensive and gaudy apartment. she hates that he bought her an enormous television. when Big suggests that they spend a couple of days a week in separate apartments (they own TWO apartments, because life is hard!), Carrie screeches, 'is this because i’m a bitch wife who nags you?' congratulations. you have answered your own question.
Miranda Redhairlawyerface: Miranda is a lawyer who has red hair. she also has a child. as a working woman, Miranda is forced to miss every single one of her child’s incessant science fairs (as though children know anything of science!). also, her lawyer boss is a cartoon dick. Miranda quits her job, and everyone is much happier. this is because women should not work. It is terrible for the children.
Charlotte Goldsteinjewyjewsomethingsomethingblatt: life for Charlotte is unbelievably difficult. as a wealthy stay-at-home mom with two children and a live-in, full-time nanny, she sometimes has to bake cupcakes! also, one time her little child got finger paint on a piece of vintage cloth. therefore, Charlotte cannot stop crying. 'how do the women without help do it?' Charlotte (crying) asks Miranda. 'i have no fucking idea,' Miranda replies. then they toast their disgusting glasses of pink syrup. to 'them.' to the 'women without help.'
Samantha Jones: we are never to speak of this.
in order to escape their various imaginary problems, our intrepid foursome traipses off to dark, exotic Abu Dhabi ('i’ve always been fascinated by the Middle East — desert moons, Scheherazade, magic carpets!'). when they arrive, Carrie, because she is a professional writer, announces, 'oh, Toto - i don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!' each woman is immediately assigned an extra from Disney’s Aladdin to spoon-feed her warm cinnamon milk in their $22,000-per-night hotel suite. things seem to be going great. but very quickly, the SATC brain trust notices that it’s not all swarthy man-slaves and flying carpets in Abu Dhabi! in fact, Abu Dhabi is crawling with Muslim women—and not one of them is dressed like a super-liberated diamond-encrusted fucking clown!!! oppression! OPPRESSION!!!
this will not stand. Samantha, being the prostitute sexual revolutionary that she is, rages against the machine by publicly grabbing the engorged penis of a man she dubs 'Lawrence of My-Labia.' when the locals complain (having repeatedly asked Samantha to cover her nipples and mons pubis in the way of local custom), Samantha removes most of her clothes in the middle of the spice bazaar, throws condoms in the faces of the angry and bewildered crowd, and screams, 'I AM A WOMAN! I HAVE SEX!' thus, traditional Middle Eastern sexual mores are upended and sexism is stoned to death in the town square.
at sexism’s funeral (which takes place in a mysterious, incense-shrouded chamber of international sisterhood), the women of Abu Dhabi remove their black robes and veils to reveal — this is not a joke — the same hideous, disposable, criminally expensive shreds of cloth and feathers that hang from Carrie et al.’s emaciated goblin shoulders. Muslim women: under those craaaaaaay-zy robes, they’re just as vapid and obsessed with physical beauty and meaningless material concerns as us! feminism! f*** yeah!
if this is what modern womanhood means, then just veil me and sew up all my holes.'
- via
XXXXXXXX
i am probably the last Brisbane blogger to finally purchase a Joshua Hall 'helix' cuff, though i'm super glad that i did. it seems to balance out super-feminine looks so that they are slightly more digestible.
though i fear i have some sort of ear deformity as i find it quite uncomfortable..does anyone else find this?
XXXXXXXX
+ further,
'if you were stranded, or homeless, or if the house burnt down, what’s the one thing you’d keep? it’s a great question. it’s a question that leads to so much whittling down of things. once you whittle down, where do you stop? artist Susan Mullaly posed the question to a bunch of people in Waco Texas and photographed the results. many are homeless or disenfranchised, for various reasons.
Fred Albreight is a homeless carpenter:
'i pick up stuffed animals all the time, i got a truck in here too. i found him, this little dog in a dumpster down in the projects in the South Side while i was pickin’ up cans. the reason i picked it up is because whenever i see a little child i give it to him. that’s why i collect them.'
- via
however, in saying all of that, the following article made me giggle and nod my head in agreement.
someone had to say it:
'Sex and the City 2 takes everything that i hold dear as a woman and as a human — working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled c*** like it’s my job — and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. it is 146 minutes long, which means that i entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache.
let us start with the 'plot.'
Carrie Bradshaw: at the end of the first SATC movie (2008) — after eleventy decades of chasing his emotionally abusive jowls through the streets of Manhattan — Carrie finally marries Mr. Big, the man of her shallow, self-obsessed dreams. it has now been two years since their nuptials. Carrie already hates it. she hates that he sits on the couch. she hates that he eats noodles out of a take-out box. she hates that he wants to spend quality time with her in their incredibly expensive and gaudy apartment. she hates that he bought her an enormous television. when Big suggests that they spend a couple of days a week in separate apartments (they own TWO apartments, because life is hard!), Carrie screeches, 'is this because i’m a bitch wife who nags you?' congratulations. you have answered your own question.
Miranda Redhairlawyerface: Miranda is a lawyer who has red hair. she also has a child. as a working woman, Miranda is forced to miss every single one of her child’s incessant science fairs (as though children know anything of science!). also, her lawyer boss is a cartoon dick. Miranda quits her job, and everyone is much happier. this is because women should not work. It is terrible for the children.
Charlotte Goldsteinjewyjewsomethingsomethingblatt: life for Charlotte is unbelievably difficult. as a wealthy stay-at-home mom with two children and a live-in, full-time nanny, she sometimes has to bake cupcakes! also, one time her little child got finger paint on a piece of vintage cloth. therefore, Charlotte cannot stop crying. 'how do the women without help do it?' Charlotte (crying) asks Miranda. 'i have no fucking idea,' Miranda replies. then they toast their disgusting glasses of pink syrup. to 'them.' to the 'women without help.'
Samantha Jones: we are never to speak of this.
in order to escape their various imaginary problems, our intrepid foursome traipses off to dark, exotic Abu Dhabi ('i’ve always been fascinated by the Middle East — desert moons, Scheherazade, magic carpets!'). when they arrive, Carrie, because she is a professional writer, announces, 'oh, Toto - i don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!' each woman is immediately assigned an extra from Disney’s Aladdin to spoon-feed her warm cinnamon milk in their $22,000-per-night hotel suite. things seem to be going great. but very quickly, the SATC brain trust notices that it’s not all swarthy man-slaves and flying carpets in Abu Dhabi! in fact, Abu Dhabi is crawling with Muslim women—and not one of them is dressed like a super-liberated diamond-encrusted fucking clown!!! oppression! OPPRESSION!!!
this will not stand. Samantha, being the prostitute sexual revolutionary that she is, rages against the machine by publicly grabbing the engorged penis of a man she dubs 'Lawrence of My-Labia.' when the locals complain (having repeatedly asked Samantha to cover her nipples and mons pubis in the way of local custom), Samantha removes most of her clothes in the middle of the spice bazaar, throws condoms in the faces of the angry and bewildered crowd, and screams, 'I AM A WOMAN! I HAVE SEX!' thus, traditional Middle Eastern sexual mores are upended and sexism is stoned to death in the town square.
at sexism’s funeral (which takes place in a mysterious, incense-shrouded chamber of international sisterhood), the women of Abu Dhabi remove their black robes and veils to reveal — this is not a joke — the same hideous, disposable, criminally expensive shreds of cloth and feathers that hang from Carrie et al.’s emaciated goblin shoulders. Muslim women: under those craaaaaaay-zy robes, they’re just as vapid and obsessed with physical beauty and meaningless material concerns as us! feminism! f*** yeah!
if this is what modern womanhood means, then just veil me and sew up all my holes.'
- via
XXXXXXXX
i am probably the last Brisbane blogger to finally purchase a Joshua Hall 'helix' cuff, though i'm super glad that i did. it seems to balance out super-feminine looks so that they are slightly more digestible.
though i fear i have some sort of ear deformity as i find it quite uncomfortable..does anyone else find this?
XXXXXXXX
+ further,
'if you were stranded, or homeless, or if the house burnt down, what’s the one thing you’d keep? it’s a great question. it’s a question that leads to so much whittling down of things. once you whittle down, where do you stop? artist Susan Mullaly posed the question to a bunch of people in Waco Texas and photographed the results. many are homeless or disenfranchised, for various reasons.
Fred Albreight is a homeless carpenter:
'i pick up stuffed animals all the time, i got a truck in here too. i found him, this little dog in a dumpster down in the projects in the South Side while i was pickin’ up cans. the reason i picked it up is because whenever i see a little child i give it to him. that’s why i collect them.'
- via
All outfit looks so wonderful!... We love them so much!
ReplyDeleteMuch love from the SABO SKIRT girls!
SHOP: www.saboskirt.com
BLOG: www.saboskirt.blogspot.com