September 23, 2012

Style v. Class

So I don't know how to dress myself. (Help and constructive criticism in the following areas will be greatly appreciated by myself and Husband.)

More like I don't know how to "style" myself. I don't have that gene or thought process that lets me look at an article of clothing and think of all the cute, girly or classy things to pair it with. The only time I buy stuff is when its on clearance. Its usually the only time that shopping is appealing to me; the thrill of finding something deeply discounted. 


Dare I say it? If it weren't for... Pinterest I'd never know how to tie a scarf 40 different ways or how many colors of skinny jeans were out there. I never thought that side ponytails and braided leather belts would make a comeback. I still can't figure out how to curl my in those loose curls that everyone wears now. I choose to blame it on the fact that my hair is perma-straight rather than admitting its a problem with the execution. My preferred outfit will always be flip-flops, jeans, a t-shirt, hoodie and ponytail. What bothers me most is when I see 12 year-old girls with more style than me.


When I was younger I wasn't worried about putting product in my hair, I still don't! Growing up I was the girl on the swings wearing Jellies and stirrup stretchy pants. When I actually let her near my hair, my mom decked it out with some combination of curled and teased bangs, side ponytails (sometimes they were braided) and scrunchies made out of shoelaces with beads on them. And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. 


What about class? Meh, often times, not so much. For example, I can produce a better quality burp than Husband. But! I am pretty good at not rockin' a camel toe. I also have never fallen victim to the hideous combination of booty shorts and UGG boots. (We all know "UGG" is short for "ugly".) I don't wear leggings as pants. I know and practice the method of "The Courtesy Flush." I manage to keep Thelma & Louise IN my shirt, which is no small task. I don't show off my leg cottage cheese like there's no tomorrow. (Although, for the record, that shiz looks much better tan.) I'm pretty good in the oral hygiene and wearing deodorant department. I do not nor will I ever own a pair of Crocs. Ever! Not never!

Worst. Combination. Ever.

Class isn't just about how you dress, though. Its reflected in your actions. Why, just this week I refrained from telling some lady she had a fat arse when she yelled at me for supposedly hitting her car as I was backing out of my parking spot. Question: how can you hit someone's car that you're parked right next to as you're backing straight out of a parking spot when their big butt is wedged between you and their car? Oh, thats right! YOU CAN'T. So after I pulled out of the spot, before driving away, I rolled down my window and asked what the problem was. She complained about how I "couldn't wait for two seconds" while she got her kid out of the car. I said "So you really think I'm supposed to wait on you while you're the one who was watching me pull out of my spot?" She didn't like that. She started yelling louder and I told her that I hope she learns to control her anger in front of her child because that wasn't setting a very good example. Then I told her I hope she finds herself in a better mood and to have a nice day. At that point she continued yelling and for fear of having a Rhino charge at my vehicle, I waved and drove off. Be proud people. Be proud! The typical Ashlee would've either flipped off and/or pointed out her XXL hindquarters while uttering a few sentence enhancers. A new page has been turned. 


And then there's Honey Boo Boo what's-her-face. I admit, I've watched one episode and Boyfriend and I just there with our mouths open in shock. People, this girl and her ridiculous family don't need any more attention than the girls that wear booty shorts and UGG boots. They're just doing for attention. I realize its like driving by the scene of a car wreck: you don't really need or want to look, but you slow down and stretch your neck for a better view anyways. To me, she and her family are prime examples of all that is wrong in television. Yes, its funny and entertaining for the most part, but its encouraging the insanity. I felt dumber after watching that one episode than if I were to combine EVERY visit I've ever taken to Wal-mart. 


Stay classy, homies! Only 60 days until Thanksgiving and 92 days until Christmas. Halleluyer!






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