It's Not Cheap To Be Ugly

Jasmine Sola is officially the most despicable store for the young. JS has spawned in key locations: Harvard Square, Prudential and Newbury St. My first visit a year ago didn't seem too bad since there was a variety of items from Miss Sixty. But... I paid JS a visit the other day and noticed that they still stocked a variety of "Boho chic" trash, western attire, and more gold. Teenage girls flock to JS to buy overpriced tees, baubles, and ugly beads. You'd think that this stuff would be dirt cheap, but it's not. Some tank tops are priced over fifty of the American dollars, which is absolutely ridiculous considering the quality (or lack thereof) and the design.

Oh, well they do have some of the eyelet and the lace. Yes, that is actually acceptable. Unfortunately, JS also seems to have the ugliest versions of white dresses. One looked impossibly skimpy - the sort of thing a girl with AA breasts could pull off.

The jewelry is grotesque and heavy. The beads look out of place and the ribbon seems like it should be on a gift box instead.

As for denim, terrible. We all know that denim should either resemble a rag, or exhibit clean cutting with a good wash. Apparently, JS knows not the denim rules. Hung on flimsy racks were pairs of jeans with obscene cut outs, patched floral print and absurd embroidery.

JS is essentially for West Coast and SoCal bimbos (they carry Juicy Couture)... landed smack dab in the East.

Oh, and Jasmine Sola also carries Chick by Nicky Hilton - something everyone should patronize the store for.

Whipped!

What does one do when a bad hair day comes along? Hair needs discipline. Punish it when it's bad (see above). I'm sure it'll obey afterwards.

Caution: Seek hair stylist immediately.

I Am Excited

Why? 'Cause I happened to be all around town today and realized that Spring 2006 has attracted a number of new openings!

1. Barneys New York - Copley Plaza
It opened in March and has the most beautiful display of Rochas and Louboutins.

2. H&M - Newbury St.
Opened Wednesday. Yeah, H&M is everywhere, but this one looks exactly like the one in NYC (5th Ave. and 51st St.).

3. Jimmy Choo - Copley Plaza
Opening soon. I'm not a huge fan, but let's celebrate anyways.

4. Bally - Copley Plaza
Okay it's not really opening, but renovating counts. I've always loved Bally and it's getting revamped! Hurrah!

5. Max Studio - Copley Plaza
No idea when, but their grand opening was recent enough. Adorable little dresses.

6. Lucky Brand Jeans - Copley Plaza
Opened this week.

7. Victoria's Secret - Newbury St.
Yet another VS. It's almost getting boring. Like H&M, it's another replica of the version in NYC, with less people.

8. Valentino - Newbury St.
Opening soon! They have the most amazing selection of leather goods and formal wear.

Adventures On The Town

Friday night. Friday lights. Fuck prom.

Meeting the very "politically confused" man. I shall call him Shamus (he looked like one). We talk amongst ourselves until Shamus asks about our political views and education. That is when we become silent. Shamus appears ragged, bearded, and most noticeably, obese. Yet he has a briefcase next to him. He sounds somewhat educated and speaks like one of those wannabe politicians that never end up in public speaking. Lonely. Isolated? So he speaks to anyone on the T, lectures them about his political candor. "So do you know what the difference between Democrats and Republicans is?" Silence. We stare at the ground. "How many years of formal education have you had?" Silence. Pitiful glances from fellow travelers. "Going to college makes you a better socialist." Silence. Park Street. Walking away... What the fuck was that? My theory is that it's probably some form of built-in propaganda in the public transportation system. Just like the Metro. I couldn't help but giggle at L's choked version of a whispered "Shut the fuck up."

We walked from the damp into Limelight, dragging from our Camels on the way. Karaoke. We screamed until our little lungs burst. We screamed until we were losing our voices. Spice Girls. My Heart Will Go On. Kanye West. My Sharona. Sean Paul. Mr. Roboto. Our private studio has some contemporary furniture. Leather seats. A plasma set with cheesy graphics. It is magical. It is also the night to meet D's new lovah. "Qu'est-ce que tu penses de lui?", D smiles. I could only reply a sure, "Il est gentil. Nous l'adorons."

More wandering in Downtown. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs show just got out and we ran into the herd of hipsters, which is were I get excited. Tight tights! Neon tights! Tousled hair! Leather jackets and smoky eyes. Yes, most were overdone. But that's the beauty of being a teenage tragedy; they're all overdone. Perhaps the most remarkable fashion sighting was a pair of Ernest Sewns with a red polka dot blouse (courtesy of the seventies) tucked in.

Chinatown. Vietnamese food. Pho. L's fondness for the lovah was being questioned when a certain lame joke was overheard. Five minutes later? The same joke. "Did he just try that again?", threatens L. A number fifty, two twenty ones, and a number twenty two later, we bid our ciaos.

Paris In India

Bollywood has clearly confused virtue with sin.

The director said he was impressed when he read a report sometime ago in which the hotel heiress said she had refused to pose nude in Playboy magazine and decided then to shortlist her.

Paris Hilton. Mother Teresa. They are not synonyms.

C.M.: "Even I couldn't think of anyone better for the role! No one epitomizes Mother Teresa like her!"