Must vs. Lust

This blog is based on an idea: everybody fakes it. Now, like we talked about before, sometimes that means lying about your age or getting a dye job. But another thing commonly faked is fashion. Sometimes that means passing knockoffs off as the real deal, sometimes it means buying something cheap and making it look expensive, and sometimes it's just faking the confidence to wear something outrageous. (Or it could be painting the soles of your shoes red--I'm not above it!). But fashion, like a lot of things in life, can be faked.

Like most women who follow fashion, I have a (somewhat unhealthy) obsession with shoes. Since I'm still a student and have to walk around campus to my classes all day, heels are, unfortunately, somewhat unreasonable. But that certainly doesn't stop me from buying them, and I've compiled a cute, though somewhat lacking, collectiong of them this summer.

Now while I usually scrounge around DSW looking for chic shoes at cheap prices, I can't help but be tempted at the thought of designer heels, and I often find myself at google, the words "Alexander McQueen" or "Christian Louboutin" magically appearing in my search bar.

It was this--what I call my "red sole fix"--that lead me to find these beauties, Alexander McQueen studded platform boots. And while I drool a little every time I look at them, the thought of shelling out $1,245 for them (roughly what I made this summer as a hostess) is enough to bring me to my knees.

Luckily for me, there is such a thing as "knock offs" and "copy cats". These bebe boots fall into the second category. And while the color is different and the make won't be the same, their $159.00 price tag has won me over.

Being Brazen (with blazers)

So, due to the lack of sex I'm getting from Bogart lately--that's the name I'm giving to my lovely mystery man, and yes, it is after Humphrey Bogart (although I'm pretty sure that guy had no trouble in the bedroom)--I've been spending a lot of my time online. And, due to my oh-so savvy internet search abilities (aka online stores and perez hilton), I've found what might just be my new favorite fall trend: blazers.

The menswear classic is back, and in a big big way. Seriously, can you ever go wrong with a blazer? Whether thrown on over jeans to add some flair or wore over a skirt ala Blake Lively, they are just too cute. Here are a few of my favorites:


1. Corpus Women's Boy Blazer 80's purple, $83.00
2. Warehouse Sequin Blazer ASOS, $147.12
3. Shrunken Schoolboy Blazer The GAP, $98.00 (as seen on Ashlee Simpson)
4. Silence & Noise Slouch Boyfriend Blazer Urban Outfitters, $48.00
5. Studded Blazer Zara, price unknown

DO:
Go for a studded or sequined blazer to add a feminine flare
DON'T:
Go for a jersey number. Seriously.

We All Do It

Alright ladies, listen up because this is lesson one, the golden rule: we all fake it. . We fake our hair color, we fake tans, we fake our age, our bra size, we even fake orgasms. Some of us fake it longer than others—some of us give up, our roots grow out, our tans age badly, we discover vibrators. Some eventually say—fuck it. I’m a forty-five year old b-cup and proud! Others fake it for longer, we shell out the couple hundred it takes for a really good dye job every six months, we drive religiously to the tanning salon every week. But no matter who you are, or how long you do it, faking it is a part of life.

Just to prove that everybody cheats, I’ll let you in on my schedule this morning: woke up at 9 am to get my hair highlighted, and then over to CVS to buy yet another self-tanning lotion (Olay touch of sun!! High hopes for this one).

Faking it is a totally natural part of life. So far, I’ve mastered faking my hair color (is THIS my natural blonde? Ha.), semi-mastered faking the self-tan (although the streaks on my hands would disagree), and, when it comes time to start counting backwards on birthdays, my anti-aging creams should make it pretty easy to fake my social security number.

So, regrettably, that leaves me faking something that no woman should have to fake: orgasms. At 19 my life leads like some depressing movie script, like American Beauty, without the murder plot. And yeah, I’m Kevin Spacey—poor, sexually unsatisfied Kevin Spacey. Well I would be if Kevin Spacey were a woman and had a boyfriend who couldn’t last longer the two minutes in the sack.