Critique of American Apparel

I'm not gonna lie, seeing an American Apparel ad usually makes me cough up my cookies. There's just something about them that drives me nuts... Like, in theory, the ads could be considered editorial... or something similarly "artistic"... But there's just something wrong with them. I think it's just because the clothes are fucking ugly.

So, because you all asked, my first fashion post will be about what NOT to wear, featuring the wonderfully fugly American Apparel. I've gone through the site, and decided to feature something from each section of note.

Lets start with men, since they're on top (does that tell you something about American Apparel's morals?)

The first section is "basic t-shirts," and they mean it. It's the basic tee cut, in any color or fabric you could think of, for the low, low price of 20 bucks a pop. Okay, so negative 5 points for ridiculous pricing, but +1 for offering a staple.

The second section is "not-so-basic t-shirts." There, you'll find tee-shirts with more than one color on them, whether you're looking for prints or just patterns. Here, you'll find what they like to affectionately term, "the old," their sad attempts at fashionable vintage. Here's my personal favorite:

Okay, even as a child, I knew this geometric, bright colors fad of the nineties was fucking ugly.

-8 for fucking ugly. +2 for a bold attempt at hoping ugly will be pretty.

The next section is "Sweatshirts." This is my personal favorite. Priced modestly, at 44 dollars, it is only available in this color:

Do I really need to say
anything witty here?

Next comes "Jackets." There are so many horrid things here, and I just had to pick one... Here you go:

This comes in this color,
and gold.

At this point, I got bored with the men's selection, and moved on to the women. I skipped straight past "basic tees" and went directly to "not-so-basic tees." Here's what I found, for 32 dollars:

For fashion's sake, this

is just a square with holes
cut in it!!

In the sweatshirts section, I came across this:

To be fair, the cut of this has potential... Somewhere under all that ugly...

To be honest here, I completely skipped through jackets. I just couldn't pick one article to feature... So here's my choice from the "sweaters" section. Seriously. People realized this cut was stupid about twenty years ago...

Is it just me, or does this model seem particularly... dead to you?

Okay, so in the "Long Sleeve" section, I found, among the various plan, staple tops, and some ugly cardigans, this jewel:

How many times to I have to state
this, people? The eighties are over!
Now-a-days, we like our women with
curves!

Onward to shorts. Let me admit here, that it's pretty hard to screw up shorts. I actually think these have potential:

Worn correctly, these may even
create a super sexy outfit.

These, however, are completely hideous:

Is anybody else reminded of
a sweaty, short little man, jumping
about and telling you that you
can do it?

Onward to the "Skirts" section. I will openly admit here, that I found nothing of fatal ugliness in this section. But then again, I suppose a skirt is even harder to screw up than shorts...

Dresses, I thought would go similar. Boy, was I wrong...

"Oh shit, my dress for tonight isn't
gonna work, quick grab me dad's
old work-out tank, I'll just throw a
rubberband around my waist..."

Finally reaching the "Pants" section, I got excited. I knew right away what I wanted to talk about here, and quickly found it. For seventy four dollars, you can proudly wear your brand new DiscoPants:

I honestly pray that, in your
heart-of-hearts, you know that
this is BUTT UGLY.

And so, feeling despair, I moved onto the swim section. There I only found more cause to cry. For thirty-six dollars, you get this one-piece, without the tee underneath it.

I honestly just don't know what
to say about this....

At this point, I lost all hope for humanity, and closed the tab in my browser.

So there you have it friends. I will say that, occasionally, you will actually find something worth getting. (Their nylon selection is rather impressive.) But overall, it is physicall painful to visit this place. Ugly, listless models wearing ugly, soulless clothing. It just makes me shiver.

If you're interested at all in looking, the site is americanapparel.com. I don't suggest it.

Okay, so we're calling today Monday...

I'm terribly sorry, my dutiful and wonderful lovers. I said that I would post on Monday, and COMPLETELY DIDN'T!! I'm a horrible, evil blogger, and should cut off my right thumb!

Like I said, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm hoping that I can make it up to you by writing today, only one day late. Half credit, right?

Before I start my riveting story about the rest of my weekend, lemme say something off topic:

akaqueenj9: If you're only planning on buying ONE leather jacket, (variety is always the best, but being poor, I completely understand if you're just going with one jacket, I have mastered the art of buying things that will go with EVERYTHING.) then I have a question to ask: What is your wardrobe like? In particular, your shoes. If most of your shoes are black, or tennis shoes, I would go with a black jacket, because I'm guessing it would go best with the large majority of your wardrobe. (Black matches EVERYTHING, except sometimes other blacks...) If you're more prone to brown shoes and sandals, I would suggest a brown. Brown can be picky, and if it's not the EXACT SAME brown as the uggs you're wearing, it can COMPLETELY ruin an outfit. If you're confident in your ability to flaunt neutrals, however, brown is your choice. If you're going for a bold jacket, like the red, it would have to be if you're planning on using it primarily as a jacket, rather than an accessory. If you wear it every day, even a red jacket will match everything.

SO! In simple terms, here are my suggestions, in order of best to least: Black, Red, and finally Brown. I hope I help. xD

-----

Okay, so my weekend...

Just after I signed off this Saturday, I made a journey to the bathroom, threw on some red lipstick, because I thought it was a good idea, and proceeded to sit in the warm tv room of W's house and watch two movies: The breakfast club, and Juno. By the time the breakfast club was finished, I was a little perplexed, because it was quite late, and W had still not arrived. But, not having a phone, I rode out my anxiety, and threw in the second movie.

Just as the end-of-the-movie plot was unfolding, I heard the truck rumble outside the tv room window, and knew that my baby had arrived. He promptly tracked me down, and told me with much shivering and excitement that he had been in an auto accident! I left my movie alone, (I still don't know what the note says at the end, when Juno leaves the paper on the adoptive parent's step...) and proceeded to be supporting and excited, just the way I should have been.

Turned out that he had barely been touched, but the car that had lost control on the highway had grazed past him, and was promptly smashed by another truck following close behind. Lucky, too, because he had his brand new tax return flat screen tv in the bed of his own truck.

And so, we spent the rest of the night playing with the new tv, and reliving the events of the evening. (The poor boy had actually been quite spooked by the accident, even though nobody was hurt. He had dreams about it that night.)

So, here's the point where I segway into the part of the story that you are actually interested in: My boredom problem. That evening, at about ten thirty, we decided to go out to eat. I expressed my interest in trying something new, the boredom of my sex life pouring over into my eating habits, it seems. We drove about for a short amount of time, trying to think of places to eat, but nothing really came up. (Keep in mind, it was ten thirty at night in a town still small enough to sleep. There really weren't many choices.)

So, he said that he wanted Caesar's Pizza. (We have Caesar's Pizza quite often.) He had, however, taken to heart my want of something different. (I had, earlier in the weekend, very gently mentioned that I would like to have sex somewhere besides the bed, and he took that to heart as well. I had made it known that I am the sort to get bored with things, and I think it put him on edge. He really did try.) So, when he mentioned Caesar's, we just happened to be passing one of their locations, so he started to pull over. Before doing so, however, he sounded very concerned, asking if it was okay that we were getting pizza. (See, he really did take it to heart. He listens to me.)

It was in THIS moment that I realized something. This problem that I am having, it has nothing to do with him. In fact, it isn't his fault at all. It has everything to do with me. I told him that it was just fine if we had Caesar's, and covered any trace of disappointment that I felt.

I just can't say no to him, and I can't let him think that I'm unhappy, because I know how hard he will try, and how much he will... take it all to heart!! It has already happened on occasion. Exhibit one: our sex life. He spends so much time trying to get ME to orgasm that it just becomes tedious for both of us.

So it's MY issue, not his.

And he really tried this weekend. ((warning, naughtiness ahead.))

On Sunday, we had sex. (The only time, all weekend.) We were in front of his shiny new TV downstairs, and had taken out some candy-canes that were sitting in the closet. (Jolly rancher flavored. Oh. My. GAWD, they were so good.) In an attempt at spicing things up, he used the candies, rubbing them on my nipples and breasts, then sucking off the sugar.

Not gonna lie, it got me hot. I thought, Okay, this is actually exciting.

So, once he tired of that, he pulled my panties aside, and left his pants on while we actually did the dirty. (He later pulled his pants to his ankles, just because having them at his waist greatly restricts his movement.) We couldn't exactly start missionary, because my panties were in the way, so he flipped me over and came at me from behind. Eventually, the panties came off, but that I didn't really mind either, they were in the way as well.

But now here's where it gets bad. once he was in, his movements went from sort of interesting so SLOWER THAN A TURTLE ON THE BACK OF A SNAIL. And that shit you read in romance novels, where the super-studly, vaguely homosexual man goes slowly, and still gets his freckled, intelligent, vaguely homosexual female partner to some, is strait-up bullshit.

Going slow is just plain boring.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there's a way to do it to where it's pleasurable for all involved. But the rate at which he took it... it was excruciating. I was LITERALLY at the point where I just rolled my eyes, and stopped participating. And I felt like he was just as bored as I was!! (He came, an eternity later, for about five minutes straight, so I assume it wasn't terrible for him... This always happens, the better the orgasm he has, the more apathetic and detached I was throughout the process.)

Seriously, worst end to what could have been the best sex we've ever had. I was so unsatisfied afterward. Usually, I get a rush when he comes, because then he goes hard, and fast, and I know he's enjoying himself. This time, there was no hard and fast, there was no build up, there was just a long, quiet orgasm, filling me up with gallons of empty fluid.

I don't know what to do. This is an issue that I have to fix, but I honestly just don't know how. Maybe we're just not as compatible as I thought we were.

Sigh.

During the weekend...

Okay, you all, I just love you SO much (and I just got all of the emails detailing your comments xD) that I've decided to post... Eventhough it's still saturday! You better appreciate... Not that I'm really doing anything interesting anyways. I am currently killing time until W comes home from work. (The poor boy works six days a week. Sad face for him, yeah?)

SO! I've decided that, rather than reply to all of your wonderful comments in the comments section, (which I figure I really should...) I'm going to make a whole post about you guys! (with a little bit about my belly button at the end...) Because I really do love you guys so much. Seeing that you comment and read my blog makes me so happy. A million thank-yous.

Okay, so lets get down to business here:

Leah-Mae: You're very welcome for following you, thank you for following me! Haha. But to answer your question, I found you on somebody else's blog. I decided that it would be no fun to write a blog unless I was reading about other people! So I went to a few of the "blogs of note," followed them, and then went through all their followers, and followed them as well, if they interested me. (xD if that makes any sense at all.)

akaqueenj9: I'm glad you've shown interest in my clothing project. xD I will be sure to do it now, just for you. =P Again, you're very welcome for following. Your blog has a very intriguing concept!

Georgia: Oh, I'm sure your sense of style is wonderful. xD (But for only three easy payments of only $14.99, you can send me your pictures, and I'll tell you everything you're doing wrong!!) Haha, I'm just kidding dear. xD On another note, I feel your pain, concerning you belly button, and thanks for reminding me, I have to tell you all WHAT HAPPENED WITH MY BELLY BUTTON!! See below. Also, I certianly hope that nothing similar happens with W. He really is very good in bed. (Too good sometimes, he spends all of his time and effort on trying to get me to come, and very little of it on himself...) I'm sure I'll get into more detail the next time I post, but I think I have found a painless way to let him know what I need... (And on a more personal note, dear, I certianly hope you've found somebody that can make you sweat the right way since said awful-in-bed boyfriend...)

AbbyRose: I'm glad I inspire your youth. =P And possibly, you are right. But he's the most interesting boy I've come across so far! (And trust me, I've tried many different flavors of the fish in the sea...) I'm sure that when it ends, I'll find my promiscuity again. xD

Again, thank you all SOOO much for following and commenting. It makes me so happy that you gals read this and enjoy it!

On a completely different note, here's what happened with my bellybutton:

On thursday, when I meant to talk to the piercer lady, C, she happened to be at lunch when we stopped by. Now, after school for me has a very limited schedule, so me and my mother decided to put it off for another day. And so, the next day, after W picked me up from school, we stopped by again. I showed C my strange little piercing, expecting her to know exactly what was happening, but she didn't expound much on it... But it was bleeding pretty profusely, so she told me to take it out, and hope it heals. I should be able to get it repierced for spring break, but there is a small chance that I won't, which would suck some pretty huge balls. (As it is, I have to avoid looking at my midsection, because my belly-button is now uneven and asymetrical. -shudder-) Hopefully though, with the age of the bathing-suit will come the age of a new piercing.

So, we went home after that, and W was evaluating my poor lop-sided naval, and said that he thought there was another little bit of skin, similar to the one we had just had issue with, on the underside of my right piercing! I tried to look, but next time you go to the bathroom, try to get a good look inside your belly button, and you'll know the issue that I was having! So, I said we'll give it a night, just to see if maybe it's just some dry skin, or something, and if it proves itself to be evil, then we will go see C again.

I really hope I get to keep my right piercing, at least. But I suppose, if my body really just doesn't want the tripple piercing, at lease I'll still have the center.

In any case, there is my weekend so far. Hopefully, by monday, I'll have an interesting story to tell you.

Untill then, lots of love,

Me.

p.s. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm working in Iexplore right now, rather than firefox (<3 ), so there's no spell check. I read over the post, and fixed some things, but I'm sure I missed some things. Please excuse my atrocious spelling. xD

Before the Weekend

Okay, so I'm feeling terribly unmotivated, but since I love you all soooo much, I am here, in front of my computer, writing out my first real blog. I feel obligated to get one in before the weekend, because friday through sunday, in my schedule is COMPLETELY taken up with W, my wonderful boyfriend, and I rarely get on the net, save for a few glances at facebook...

In any case, I thought it was particularly important to write because my main story is actually about said boyfriend! And I hope that this little nagging issue will be resolved over the weekend, and I can report back to you all!

So here's the scoop:

I've been with W for almost eight months now. Believe it or not, that is the longest I have ever been with somebody. (I get bored easily...) Which leads to my issue: At the beginning of our relationship, sexuality was charged, and exploratory, as it always is at the beginning of a relationship. And with me being a seventeen year old girl, and him being a thirty year old man, I was blown away with his experience and patience. Frankly, sex was great. The greatest I've ever had.

Now, lemme throw another little puzzle piece at you: I have never experienced a g-spot orgasm. Despite his most valiant efforts, and my own experimentation, it just doesn't happen. I can achieve a clit orgasm, but only through oral, or when I'm by myself. (What I mean by that is, I can't get myself off when he's around, unless his face is in my crotch.) We've talked about this issue, and have come up with a few theories: I'm still not at my sexual prime, and haven't completely discovered myself. Also, it is possible, I have a mental block, because of past issues. (I'll probably get into that with you later.)

In any case, I don't come. He has eaten me out to orgasm twice, and I have used a vibrator, and made myself climax (with his help) once. Even so, I still enjoy sex. Any woman will probably agree that, even without orgasm, sex is pretty awesome. And so, we do it all the time.

Here's where I actually get down to the nuts and bones of it all: We have three positions, (if I'm lucky) and one place that we have sex (his bed). I give oral very often, but I have to fight for it. We used to have sex in the shower, or in front of the tv downstairs, but we don't do that anymore. For now, it's missionary, or me on top, and if I ask VERY nicely, he'll flip me over and come at me from behind.

I am so BORED.

Don't get me wrong, as stated above, I do enjoy sex whenever we do it, but I don't look forward to it, I don't crave it. Because I know we'll do it exactly the same way as last time...

Here's another tidbit: He is infertile, and we are both clean, so we have condomless sex. Shouldn't that mean that our sex lives are so much more spontaneous than they are?

And believe me, I've tried hinting and being nice about spicing things up. I try to dress up, maybe have sex in my super cute clothes, or maybe do a little roleplay. Nope. Even the stockings come off, and then we have sex naked. I begged him once to tie me to the headboard, and he complied. And then he proceeded to have sex with me, just as if nothing was different. I even got less attention than I do when my hands are free.

I don't even get wet anymore, and he doesn't notice. The hardest orgasms that he has ever had occurred during two evening when I was feeling particularly apathetic, and didn't participate as much as I usually do. He tried to give me oral on V-day, and I couldn't come.

The worst part of it is, every other part of our relationship is perfect. (This isn't something I'm gonna dump him over.) But it's really making me realize some things.

There's no passion in our relationship. He hasn't dropped the L-bomb yet, even though I've been whispering it in my sleep for four months... And now this sex thing.

I've realized too, that I am one of those girls that just gets BORED with things. And I don't want to get bored. I don't want to search for attention elsewhere, and end up making a mistake. I want the attention from MY man!

And so, I've decided that, since being nice and hinting didn't work, I'm just gonna straight out and say it, "I'm bored. Sexually. Make it better."

Yeah, we'll see how that turns out... Might actually make a real fighting couple out of us!

We'll see. Not really looking forward to it, but it's worth it.

I'll give you the list of casualties on Monday.

Invigorating...

Three words: fucking salt bath.

Four steps:

1.) soak in HOT salt water.
2.) scrub and exfoliate with coarse sea-salt
3.) let seasalt sit (it'll sting)
4.) feel fucking amazing.

That is all.

FUCK.

Okay, so this isn't quite the first story I wanted to tell you, but it'll do fine just the same. You'll probably have to wait until at least tonight for my ranting about my boyfriend and his never-ending boringness. But right now, I have a much shorter story to relate.

I am in pain.

Now, as many of you probably know, getting a piercing hurts. It also hurts quite a bit afterward, during the healing process. In my own personal opinion, the bellybutton is the worst for the healing period. It's not like the tongue, which has saliva to help the process along, and it's not like an ear piercing, where it stays relatively unmolested until it feels better.

No, the belly button takes the cake for most pathetic piercing. It is constantly getting snagged by clothes, and other people trying to hug you, and it's on a particular part of the body that moves a LOT, constantly stretching and irritating the wound... You don't really realize how much your stomach flexes and stretches until every time you do it, it hurts.

Now, here's the kicker:

I have three belly button piercings, straight across the top, like a hat for my cute little innie. (Believe me, my innie is VERY cute... cute like a puppy and a kitten trying to climb into the same slipper...)

The center one, which I got first, healed quite nicely, and if I wished, I could change the jewelry. (Currently, it still has the too-big jewelry of the initial piercing because I am, as I said before POOR.) The one on the right, as well, (my right, not your right) has healed smashingly.

The one on the left, however, has had some issues. A small lump of very red flesh has surfaced beside it, and hasn't gone away. It has nerves in it, and isn't just a pocket of pus, or something, so I am assuming it is my body rejecting the piercing. Occasionally, it is painful.

(Truth be told, if I was anywhere near sane, or had the money to redo it, I probably would have removed this problem piercing long ago. But, alas, silliness reigns...)

Today, after I stole one of her hairties, my ten year old brute of a sister tackled me, snagging all of my bellybutton piercings at once, and pulling me to the ground. The pain was a tear-jerker, I'm not gonna lie. Even with my eyes watering, however, she didn't let go, and continued to pull at the piercings.

Truth be told here, I'm coming up on my PMS week, so I'll blame my unecessary grumpiness on that, but OH MY GOD did it put me in a bad mood. But honestly, it just fucking hurt! If not for the baby-orajel that I found and smothered all over the bleeding mass, it would still hurt, I reckon.

Sigh. I don't think any serious damage was done, but I'm going in to the piercer lady tomorrow to see what she says about my troublesome stud. And if she tells me to take it out, hopefully it will be healed enough to repierce by spring break. Sigh again.

Updates tomorrow, I promise.

Ta.

Just Quickly...

I've seen an idea on the blog of another woman, and I may encorporate it into my blogging: posting outfits, and reviewing.

Now, this woman likes to post her outfits and call them "stylish," and she is sadly mistaken... But maybe I'll do better for all of you. I consider myself a very stylish person...

We shall see what you think...

Ta.

An Introduction

The world of blogging is a competitive one. There are millions of blogs out there that act as little more than a therapeutic diary to the author, with little substance, much less entertainment value. The truly successful ones are the blogs that keep a captivating story, with either riveting suspense, or a not-quite-out-of-reach goal. Think of famous examples, such as Sex and the City, or Julie and Julia. Well, I'm here to offer you something that the majority of them can't give you: relatable hilarity.

I mean, lets face it. We all have those moments when the condom slips, or when you totally OWN that bitch... But nobody can tell a story quite like me, and I promise you, you won't find another blog quite like mine.

Here's a little about me:

My name is R (for the purposes of this blog) and I am an eighteen year old woman. I'm finishing my senior year of high school, I'll be going into some sort of engineering field... (cut me some slack, I haven't decided yet!) and I am currently dating a thirty-one year old man who brews beer and goes to school for a living. (Yeah, I told you you'd never seen anything like me.) I'm five foot two, a curly redhead by choice, with light blue eyes. I am increasingly poor, as the world moves on toward poverty, but if I had the money and time, I'd design and create all of my own clothes. (No seriously, I love clothes. I watch movies, just to look at the clothing... That and the shoes... God, I love shoes...)

...

Ah, see, I caught you there. You thought I'd tell you more about me, didn't you?

Well, you're out of luck. Besides, how interesting would this be, if you knew everything about me from the start? That's not how this flirting game is supposed to work. Buy me a drink, and maybe I'll open up a little more. ;)

But to tell you the truth, this blog really isn't about me. Well, it is, but it really isn't. In truth, anybody could tell you these stories. I just happen to be the lucky one that these things keep happening to, and I've got the keyboard and the time to keep you all up to date on them.

My relationship, for example... I'll certainly be writing quite a bit about that. For example: how the hell is an eighteen year old girl supposed to keep her interest in one man?

But that's all for next time, dearies...

I promise you'll love me, at least until you hate me...

R