1). Twitter is nifty, handy and one of those typically new milennium things we could have quite happily carried on without, but now that we have it we don't know what to do without it. It's great for keeping up to date with news, sales, current events, fashion and whatever else floats your boat, but I always thought people who update their Facebook status more than once a day were a bit sad. Now you can update everyone hourly and get away with it, depsite the fact that you twitter 'followers' don't have to be able to recognise you from a goat's bollock. Some people's updates are fantastic - useful, informative and provide the type of content for which you are following them. Other people...O.M.G. We do not need to know what type of cheese you are eating for lunch, or that you are standing in line waiting for your quarter-strength decaf vanilla latte with cream (seriously, heard this the other day), or indeed what type of cheese you are eating now as opposed to 5 minutes ago when you last updated your status. I'm pretty sure most of the good content gets lost in amongst all this crap, or drowns under other's people's conversations to which you have the privelige of being party to, despite never quite being able to follow exactly what they are on about. There are people on there with 50,000 followers and 50,000 they are following - how in the bloody hell can you actually be 'following' them genuinely?!
On a more positive note, I found Kevin Spacey on there this morning. And he confirmed that Jeff Goldblum isn't dead. Double plus!
2). From what I can gather, most sane people are offended by leggings-as-pants. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. But there is something that pisses me off much more, and that is people who simply don't wear pants.
I'm not sure these even count as knickers. I read recently that Lady Gaga is the 'biggest pop star in the world'. Celeb paycheques must be feeling the Recession-crunch if the poor dear couldn't even afford a mini skirt and obviously had to auction off parts of her panties to pay for her corset. Tough times. So tough, that even Sienna has gotten into the home-made look, creating a smashing jacket and matching top from a gorilla generously donated by Jane Goodall. Unfortuantely she has not yet learnt the fine art of creating trousers but she'll get there, she will:
Quite frankly, I hope this trend stays in the celebosphere. My eyes and my stomach could not handle groups of chubby bogans strutting around local malls in high waisted bloomers they stole from old people in their suburb. But if it does catch on in a way nobody really thought MC Hammer pants would, I'm sure I have a shiny green pair of sportpants leftover from primary school that would be awesome for S/S 09/10. Bring it on.
3). Channel 9 shows. Aside from the fact the best they can muster at the moment is Bert's 20 to 1 (bring back Ladette to Lady!) last night I saw this: 'Coming up, annoyingly exuberant presenters stay in uber expensive hotels on Getaway (cut to ad) they thought it was their dream holiday...until they found themselves in HELL...holidays gone wrong in TROUBLE IN PARADISE..." Counter-productive programming, no?
4). Drunk people. Drunk people are highly amusing, but not when they are thinking that a mixture of blurred eyes and nipples makes them sexy. My partner plays in a band so every now and then I trot along to watch, but usually not drinking. Much. Not enough to not be annoyed by people stomping on you in their heels, hiking up their dresses in your face, and 'dancing' in such a way that they systematically and obliviously knock out the people behind them, anyway. But without them, I would not have nearly as enjoyable a time. I adore people who have drinks at home before going out, and get completely plastered before attempting an outfit. I might start a new version of The Sartorialist, purely for people who have consumed a bottle or two of red before stumbling to their wardrobe. At least most of them remembered pants of some description (except one girl, but I was temporarily blinded from shock).
TFIF is all I can say. And TF the new issue of Frankie came out this week, because if I one more celeb mag tweets about next week's tribute issue to MJ, I am going to do more than just blog my anger out. Why don't they do a tribute to all the snarky stories they published over the last few years? Princess Di all over again...disgusting.
Time for a nice hot cuppa and a calm down!
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