Bad Wedding Songs
Manolo says, our friend Never teh Bride has selected what she believes are the five most inappropriate songs to play at the wedding, and added horrific pictures by way of illustration.
Manolo says, our friend Never teh Bride has selected what she believes are the five most inappropriate songs to play at the wedding, and added horrific pictures by way of illustration.
Manolo says, the Manolo has already posted the link to this in his Twitter feed, but it deserves reposting in full here because it will bring joy to those who see it.
If the sight of this solidly-built middle-aged man getting his funk on does not bring the smile to your face, you are perhaps without hope.
There is more below the jump.
Manolo says, this week, our friend Spirit Fingers asks us to identify the cinematic hotties in the red bathing suits.
Manolo says, it is Monday, and you are sitting at your desk, when you realize that this weekend it is the Fourth of July and you have not yet purchased your new bathing suit. And you have been invited to the big-dealio, all-day beach party with your husband’s co-workers. Ayyyyy!
To make the matters worse, this winter was not kind to your backside, to say nothing about your belly-side, and your various other jiggly-bits which will soon be swaying gently in the seaside breeze.
And so, with great haste you log onto the websites of various on-line retailers and look at one-piece tank suits with special supportive panels and Spanx-like hidden trussing. After 47 minutes of searching (all on company time) you give up the search when you realize that the bathing suits are not usually something that can be reliably purchased on-line, that is, unless of the course, you are one of those women who is comfortable having the bottom part of the suit ride up into the crotch, exposing your lack of Brazilian waxification (strangely, this population is not inconsiderable).
That is when you decide that the better course of action will be to fake the big emergency tomorrow afternoon, so that you can rush out of the office and down to the mall.
This decision, one of life’s forgivable little white lies, causes you to feel both relieved and exceedingly guilty. You are punctilious about such misconduct. It is one thing to waste the stray hour reading the Celebitchy and the Fug Girls on company time, but another entirely to carefully plan to mislead so as to be able to go shopping on office time.
In point of fact, this planned infraction leaves you feeling so guilty that must go to your happy place, to the Manolo’s humble Shoe Blog, where you will be able to look at beautiful shoes, thus soothing your jingly-jangly nerves.
Ayyyyy! You just realized that you are still as white as the ghost, and there’s no time for the tanning booth!
Manolo take me away!
Look, here are the beautiful low-wedge heeled sandals from Lilly Pulitzer!
Feel better now?
The Manolo says, the Manolo politely reminds you that he is now sharing with the world his most profound trivial thoughts via the Twitter.
Manolo says, our darling friend Miss Plumcake is generating much attention this week because it is Full-Figured Fashion Week, and because she is the Mistress of the Pull Quote. Witness her brilliance in the New York Magazine:
“I’ll say there are more options now than there used to be, but that’s sort of like saying ‘he doesn’t hit me nearly as often as he used to.’” says Gammill. “I’m fat, I have money. I’m more than willing to give it in quantity to the store who will supply me with beautifully made clothes that don’t make me look like a hooker, a tranny, or someone’s bingo-playing grandma from Duluth.
And now you must go read the whole article.
Manolo says, here is the Manolo’s latest column for the Express of the Washington Post.
Dear Manolo,
I like a woman who has beautiful feet but unexciting taste in shoes. So I had the great idea to buy her a pair of heels as a gift, and I need your help. I’m looking for something hot and sexy to make other men jealous, but of course with her comfort in mind. What do you think?
Peter
Manolo says, generally, the Manolo counsels against the man giving shoes to the woman as the surprise gift, mainly because of the problem of sizing.However, in this case, it is clear that the Manolo’s friend has closely studied the shapely sexy feets of his fine, fine lady, and thus is probably well acquainted with their needs.
Sadly, even with that, the Manolo’s friend is somewhat deluded if he thinks the Manolo, the mere mortal man, can find him the super-sexy-hot comfort shoe. Such miraculous holy relics exist only in the medieval fantasy world of valiant Arthurian knights in service to chaste maidens. And, like the Holy Grail, this will-o-the-wisp will always be just beyond the grasp of all but the purest-hearted
Still, as Sir Percival can tell you, sometimes the quest for perfection is everything.
Look, here is the E90341 from Guiseppe Zanotti, the costly but exceedingly beautiful crystal and patent leather sandal. Is it comfortable? Who knows! Is it sexy? Yes, emphatically!
Manolo says, our own Miss Plumcake has been interviewed for the long article on the rise of the “Fatshionistas”, the super fantastic big girl!
And as always, she makes the Manolo laugh out loud.
“One of the things that makes me insane is that somehow the fashion industry decided there can only be one fat chick receiving favorable media attention. We’re fat, we’re not the Highlander. There can be more than one,” says Rhiannon Gammill, an Austin, Texas-based writer who now blogs for Manolo for the Big Girl. “I want the woman who can say ‘This is who I am, you don’t have to like me and you don’t have approve of me, but I’ve been to this pony show before and this time I’m getting what I want. I’ve got one voice, two chins, and more style than should be allowed by law and I’m not apologizing for any of it’ and then, I don’t know, puts her cigarette out on her arm.”
Please, you must go read the whole thing.
Manolo asked, whose shoes?
Manolo answers, it is the Christina Ricci!
Congratulations to the Manolo’s internet friend Deborah, who was the first and only to identify this week’s personage of note.
Manolo says, the Manolo would like to remind you that he is now Twittering.
Manolo says, here is the Manolo’s latest column for the Express of the Washington Post.
Dear Manolo,This next week is graduating from the 8th grade graduation at a very exclusive private school, paid for in large part by my ex-husband, who will naturally be there at the graduation with his new bride, a woman 18-years his junior. As much as I would like to avoid the social awkwardness, I know that my son needs me to be there. Please suggest something to make me feel confident.
Eve
Manolo says, outside of fantastical nightmares in which you are forced to take the final exam in quantum physics (“But, I majored in English!”) while wearing nothing but your bunny slippers, encountering the ex and his cheerleader-cum-bride is the most intensely awkward and uncomfortable situation imaginable.
On the one of the hands you wish to crawl under the floorboards and die. On the other of the hands, you wish to cause someone else to die and stash the corpses under the floorboards. And yet, on the third of the hands, you know that you must put aside your desire to drive your mini-van over his new sports car, with lout and bimbo trapped inside, so that your son can fully enjoy his big day without incident.
Thus, the only proper way to conduct oneself is to be aloof and above it all, and what better way to be above it all than with the Platswoon from Stuart Weitzman? The Manolo likes this patent camel finish for the spring time event.