vanity | Making Love With Her Ego

Apr 03 2013

My Babies

Periodically, I go through my wardrobe (pile of clothes) and think to myself, “Letty, perchance it’s time to grow up. You are 30 now, practically a woman, maybe it’s about time you stop dressing like a 13 year old boy from 1982. ( Or like the kid who wants Blue Oyster Cult tickets in Fast Times at Ridgemont High)” But then I look at all the magnificence lying before me. I have THE BEST T-SHIRTS in the ENTIRE WORLD. The collection of shirts that I have amassed bring a smile to my face, and make me feel like a real cool dude. My t-shirts are so great they own their own 1977 Pontiac Trans-Am. T-Top of course, you know because T-SHIRTS. Get it? OH SHIT.

Here is a list of my t-shirts from memory (and I know I totally forgot some): I have 4 Foreigner shirts, 2 Bryan Adams, 2 Ted Nugent, 1 Rod Stewart, 2 Quiet Riot, 1 Ozzy Osbourne, 1 Jerry Reed/Smokey & The Bandit shirt, 2 ZZ Top, 1 Bob Seger,1 Curtis Knight Band, 1 Van Halen, 2 Billy Squier, 1 Rolling Stones, 1 David Bowie, 1 Led Zeppelin, and 1 Who, and these are all vintage concert tees. My Bowie one is for his 1978 World Tour. I only have two reproductions, my Iggy Pop & The Stooges, and my T. Rex. In general, I am a snobby bitch that turns her nose up at repros (see how terrible I am?), but I can make an exception for excellence. May I suggest that if you want to DIY your shirt and cut it up so you can show off your clavicle, buy a reproduction or I will find you and claw out your eyes for ruining the sanctity of a shirt that has lived longer than you. I am considering buying a Jarvis Cocker shirt on eBay though, just so I can have him close to my breasts.

Guys, I have so many great shirts and some of them are pretty valuable. I could really go on about it for days and days. I mean, I didn’t even GO INTO my shirts that aren’t concert tees, but let’s be honest, this is a pretty dull topic. So, let’s get to the good stuff–pictures of me in a few of my sweetass shirts.Pump up the “Stranglehold” and let’s begin.

About to get eliminated in my ZZ Top Eliminator shirt

There is a better picture of me somewhere wearing this shirt in the Paris airport, but I can’t find it.

Harley Davidson, that turn you on? ::Kelly Leak voice::

I had enough Foreigner shirts (plus one Van Halen) to cloth my entire karaoke team for my powerhouse performance of “Jukebox Hero”

I thought this was the most appropriate shirt to wear to the gun range.

This is one of my favorites, my Boris Vallejo shirt. I wear it for good luck and for family gatherings.

Now, I have to give a shout out to a fallen soldier. One of my greatest shirts, a Molly Hatchet shirt featuring Frank Frazetta artwork, was stolen away from me and I still haven’t gotten over it. I let a friend borrow it, which is rare because I am weirdly protective of my shirts, and some bitch stole it out of his bag when he was sleeping. So sad. My friend still feels very guilty about it, but I have since (almost) forgiven him <3. The worst part of it all is I actually saw the evil thieving wench out at a bar WEARING MY SHIRT. I just couldn’t find a way to prove it was mine (IT WAS DEFINITELY MINE) and get it back without ripping it off her body. When I saw her wearing it I screeched like a banshee, after explaining my scream, the door guy at the bar still calls me Molly Hatchet. I tried guys, I really did. I approached her, and asked where she got the shirt, and she just said, “Oh it’s a vintage shirt from the 80′s.” LIKE I DIDN’T KNOW THAT. There was just no way . I just hope that dumb bitch loves that shirt even a tenth of the amount that I did and I also hope that she gets her nose broken by a goose while riding a roller coaster, just like fucking Fabio. ~Le sigh~

RIP MOLLY HATCHET SHIRT. YOU ARE GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.

Do you guys have any great shirt you want to talk about, or do you want to compliment me on my awesome shirts? Did I leave any out? Leave me a comment!

Tagged collection, concert shirts, david bowie, ebay, fashion, music, style, t-shirts, vanity, vintage

Jun 14 2012

4 Comments

Uncategorized

New Summer Hair! or How to Terrify Your Baby

Oh hey guys, did I mention it’s summer? If you couldn’t tell by the stifling heat outside, the distinct aroma of intermingling body odors, or if you don’t have a calendar, I am a valuable resource for you. Anyway blahdeblee, it’s summer. To celebrate my second to last favorite season, I decided I needed new summery hair. My awesome friend Brian, a talented stylist, decided to HOOK ME UP. The first iteration of my summer hair left me with a few blondish streaks in my bang swoop. It was what neither of us wanted. Chad said that I either looked like an Asian college student from the early 2000′s or a gay Puerto Rican boy, both accurate assessments. Unfortunately I do not have any photographic proof of this chic look.

We decided to go for round two Monday night. The first step involved applying bleach to my hair to get rid of the black. Brian said a lot of sciency things about hydrogen bonds so I knew I was in good hands. Do you remember the 90′s? My bleached locks sure did. I simultaneously looked the most Mexican I have ever looked and like an extra from Hackers. Truman was TERRIFIED. He took one look at me with yellow hair and his eyes grew wide(r), his little bottom lip started quivering, and he burst out in tears. He wouldn’t even let me hold him. I had to put on a hat, it did not fool him. I then tried nursing him to calm him down. At first he started suckling voraciously, but then he stopped. He glanced up at me cautiously, then tentatively started to nurse again unsure if I was actually his mother or a blond she-demon. He eventually decided on the latter, used all of his baby might to squirm away from me as if my skin was on fire, and howled at the top of his lungs. Who could blame him really?

I am applying purple lipstick in this photo. ~~MI VIDA LOCA~~

Luckily, this was only temporary. Brian applied a café au lait color to my hair with rich honey tones and in the end everyone, including Truman, was happy. It is bit lighter than it looks in the picture and I am still getting adjusted to it, but I like it! I’ve never lightened my hair before but I figured, what the hell. Come fall I will return to a darker, more subdued color, but for now it’s all about being light and summery.

For the record, I still look like a gay Puerto Rican boy.

Tagged 90's, baby, beauty, blond, friends, hair, humor, me, remember the 90's, style, summer, vanity

Feb 28 2012

5 Comments

Brain Drain

Vanity Smurf

I am a narcissist, and a new mother. It is a difficult thing to balance. Taking care of an infant leaves little time for admiring oneself in the mirror. I am also about 15 pounds heavier than I would like to be and have really fallen off of the ‘ole grooming wagon. There is just no time! There is never any time! How can you be vain if you don’t fit into your jeans?! How can you be vain if you are still wearing MATERNITY JEANS six months after you’ve given birth?!? ::BEAUTIFUL HEAD EXPLOSION::

There is a solution! You can still venerate your good looks by, get this, ADMIRING YOUR CHILD. You created this little creature. You and your partner, who is obviously also extremely attractive, worked together to spawn this brilliant, beautiful, beast. This is your descendant! I look at my son and I just beam with pride because he is gooooooorrrrrgeeeeous. I feel like if I stare at him too long my face will melt off like the Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Anyway, all parents have the right to feel like this. Even if your child’s face looks like a boxing glove. When people compliment your babe, they are directly complimenting you. So when my son Truman is rightfully complimented on his big, alert, eyes that are framed with maybe it’s Maybelline eyelashes, they are complimenting ME! It makes me want to flutter flutter flutter my eyelashes until they fall off.

Tangent time! I have always been vain. Vanity Smurf is my favorite smurf. Walking around, admiring himself in the mirror, acting like he’s the shit. Vanity Smurf is a true role model. Looking at me, it would be hard to conceive me as vain. Other than the perfectly applied eyeliner (I am not an animal), I don’t look like I take care of myself at all. It seems as though my uniform of ratty old Keds, holey jeans, and a t-shirt is worthy of Joan Rivers’ wrath. This is true, with the exception of my shirts. My t-shirts are vintage and rare, they are worth more than your soul. I suppose I should try a little harder, maybe wear more dresses or something. I don’t know. I am a contradiction–a lazy egomaniac. Eh. To be fair, all bloggers have a touch of egomania. To think that anyone would want to read your incoherent ramblings and run on sentences, you’d have to be just the slightest bit vain. To wrap this up, when you see me, compliment my son and I will return the favor. Everyone deserves to feel good.