!i$@ bee™: Vintage hotness

Showing posts with label Vintage hotness. Show all posts

7/13/12

Moe Betta Blues

Before I jump into my elementary school years, allow me to flesh out my preschool ones a bit more. Looking back, there are a number of things apparent in my self today that originated in my earliest school days.

The kid in the last post I mentioned, the one whose mom asked my mom to get me to teach him how to tie his shoes (whew), that kid’s name was Brian. In addition to not knowing how to tie his shoes, he was also my very first bf ever in life. We were together all the time: we sat next to each other during reading time, ate across from each other at lunch*, played with each other at recess, we even laid our mats near each other for nap times. So presh.

Since Brian was a year older than me, he aged out of preschool before I did. The year Brian left, the homie Moe enrolled.

When Moe first showed up, all the little kids were intrigued. He never said a word, but had the most fabulous, luxurious hair: a massive, jet black, curly explosion. Love! It wasn’t until a few weeks after his arrival that he started to stand out in a different, more unsettling way.

For one, he never spoke. At first we all thought it was because he was new, but even after knowing him for most of that year, I don’t recall Moe ever saying a word to anyone. He wasn’t deaf; the teacher and teacher’s aid would ask him if he could hear them and he’d always nod yes. He wasn’t mute either; after befriending him (ok, I made him my unofficial 2nd bf after the void Brian left behind), he’d whisper things to me, but only me.

Another thing, he was scared of almost everyone outside of his mom, especially men. During his first few weeks at our preschool, he’d burst into tears whenever we went to the nearby kiddie gym (male instructor) or the male janitor came by our classroom. Before he started whispering to me, whenever somebody asked him something he’d just sit or stand there with tears welling up in his eyes. I felt so bad for Moe, I asked the teacher what I could do to help him. She said that was very nice of me, and the best thing I could do for Moe was to be his friend. So I was.

From then on, Moe took Brian’s former spot in my little four-year-old life, minus the mock misogyny. Since Moe rarely said anything, I got to say all I wanted, all the time. It was pretty awesome. Fun fact: before Moe arrived, I was the quietest kid in the classroom. At first, people thought I was deaf and mute, too. In reality, I found most of the other children stupid and not worth speaking to, lol.

But Moe was worth my words. I’d help him out during our writing/penmanship time, and read books to him from our classroom kiddie library. Brian would never sit still long enough for me read to him, ugh. Eventually, Moe and I were having our own Top Secret Very Important Convos in the sandbox during recess. The adults around us could hardly believe it.

By the end of that school year, not only was Moe speaking actual words (only to specific people though, and so quietly you had to lean in to hear him), he wasn’t as scared of the gym teacher or janitor anymore. He was even smiling, and often. When he first came to school, all he did was cry.

Progress!

Our teacher and teacher’s aid were so impressed they told my mom and Moe’s mom about our friendship and his transformation. Moe’s mom thanked me personally one day, with tears in her own eyes. She said Moe really needed a friend like me.

There are more preschool stories I can recall, memories of me laying down the foundation of my gangsta. The ones I’ve already told you stand out the most, though.

In any case, those preschool years were the perfect training ground for what came next: elementary school.

* Brian would tell any and everybody how much he hated girls and how gross we were, yet he always gave me—and only me—half of his snacks at lunchtime, unprompted. His mom also gave me a stuffed animal, plastic jewelry and some other trinkets on my birthday for teaching him how to tie his shoes. Respect. Thanks Brian's mom! [back to para. 1/para.2]

9/13/11

Hottest Couple of All Time*: Lisa Bonet & Jason Momoa

At the Conan the Barbarian premiere last month

UNFH. So much sexiness here. I really look up to Lisa Bonet, not only as a fellow Lisa B. but THOSE LOCS. So luscious. She also has a track record of pulling only the most hottest of dudes:

What is there not to admire?

At the beach this month. Sun & fun with your bun = ♥

Lisa seems to be aging well; she's 43 and Jason is 32. Just for comparison, here's a contemporary of Lisa's, Jasmine Guy, who's 49--and looks it:

Oof

What happened Whitley Gilbert?! Yeesh. Anyways, back to positivity and sexiness:

Looking sexy at the airport

Looking sexy while walking with child (I think this is their son together, Nakoa-Wolf Momoa)

Looking sexy chilling carside with Zoe Kravitz

One big sexy family

*Besides me & my man. Duh.

5/16/11

600th Post!!! My Fendi Spy Bag has a new sister :-D

Top: My first introduction into the world of haute couture handbaggery, the Fendi Spy Bag ♥
Bottom: My newest baby, my Prada "Mauve-elous"

Just in time for my 600th post, a generous and sexy benefactor has blessed me with a fabulous handbag!

Introducing my Prada "Mauve-elous," as I've christened her:

As a fan of larger bags that can easily accommodate my daily arsenal of Fly Lady Stuff, I was a little apprehensive about switching to a smaller bag. I'm so siced that despite her compact size, Mauve-elous fits literally *everything* that was in the large faux croc tote I'd been carrying, and more!

Inside my bag. I've found it helpful to pack my essentials in tiny
makeup bags so things aren't tumbling around my actual bag all day

There's an inside compartment to the bag that's about as wide and deep as the bag itself, allowing me to carry even more than the spacious interior already allows.

LOVE the embroidered interior, so chic!

Luxe to the max. Speaking of luxe, yes, this bag is fabulous as we can all see. Something I did NOT foresee in choosing this bag is how high-maintenance it would be in terms of upkeep. Suede is not an easy material to keep clean, especially in a light color such Mauve-elous' dusty rose. In just the first week of taking her out on the town, Mauvey Baby has a couple scuff marks already. A little internet research taught me how to clean her up myself, but I am still considering taking Mauve-elous to someone who specializes in leather care to have her sprayed with a weather-resistant spray. I just hope it can be done without ruining the gold hardware.

I like my bags how I like my jewelry: gold accents, baby

Carrying Mauve-elous around, I haven't been this afraid of inclement weather--and random beverage spills--since my perm days

She's so cute and wonderful and perfect though (really folks, this bag goes with EVERYTHING), it's totally worth it. I think of the time I'll spend obsessing over her cleanliness, buffing out the occasional scuff, and investing in her weatherproofed future as Mommy-Bag bonding time ♥

"PRADA Milano, dal 1913," b*tches

So fab! I'm looking forward to lots of stylish days and nights with Mauve-elous in hand.

2/25/11

This is TOO CUTE not to post: IRL "Up" Grandpa

Twins!

2/4/11

Betty White NUDE pics (yes, you read that correctly)

OMG guys. This is America's grandma! Even without clothes she looks so sweet and innocent. I'm simultaneously like O_0 and ::awww::

NSFW-ish pics after the jump.
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[source]

10/31/10

My Halloween costume: Betty Draper, with a tan (aka "17. Attend a themed party")

Betty/Alterna-Betty

For Halloween this year, I was a character from one of my favorite shows at the moment: Betty Draper-Francis from Mad Men. One would think because this character is so cold and WASP-y I'd have to go through great lengths to recreate her as a costume. Au contraire, mon ami:

For the hair, a blonde wig was most definitely in order. I don't think locs even hit America 'til at least the 1970s, and Mad Men is set in the 1960s. I added a black headband to make the look more retro.

The string of pearls, evening gloves, and clutch: courtesy of my closet raid. Who says you have to drop mad $$$ on a costume, when you can just make one out of stuff you already have?

Betty smokes like a chimney on the show, so I'd definitely have to pick up a pack of ciggies to carry around. Problem is, I don't smoke cigarettes. And so the urbanization of Betty Draper (at least for the purposes of this costume) continues: grape cigarillos, please.

Betty has a number of different looks on the show; for my costume, I pulled a vintage cocktail dress I've had in my closet for YEARS (so pretty, but nowhere to wear it

) out of hiding and bought a frilly petticoat from a party store to wear underneath it. Insta-poof!

For the shoes, I once again raided my closet for a pair of suede and leather pointy-toed pumps from Aldo. Parfait.

I think of my Betty as regular Betty's alter-ego: way more chill, not relegated to the suburbs, and certainly not WASP-y.

Stay tuned for the follow-up post on how I did my makeup!

2/20/10

Today is my Grandma's birthday

She would have been 87 years old. My family threw a get together at her house, where I was able to look through awesome vintage pics of Grandma when she was younger.

Stylin' on 'em

My grandma was a seamstress and made a lot of her own clothes. I think she was especially proud of this outfit.

Grandma & Grandpa.
They were married for 61 years (!!!).

Grandma, age 18

Around the time the previous photo was taken, my grandparents met. They got married two weeks later, lol.

I love old photographs

1/18/10

Old man game

Have you ever celebrated your best friend's birthday at a hilariously age-inappropriate club and been hit on repeatedly by men (or women) old enough to give your dad/moms a run for his/her money? No? Well this is how that scenario might play out...

Me: [swaying along to the music, trying to ignore the strange nursing home and Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds smell of the club]

Much older dude: Hey sweetheart.

Me: No habla ingles [continues to jam alone]

MOD: Wanna dance?

Me: No habla ingles!

Well, that didn't work and somehow I found myself two-stepping with someone easily old enough to be my dad. At this point the DJ shouted out something about the Redskins and how Dallas sucks and even though I don't follow football like that I felt compelled to show support for the home team.

Me: Yeah! Booo Dallas!

MOD: I know that's right ::high five::

I was just grateful he didn't notice I speak perfect English

I guess that's that old man memory for you. Having bonded over our mutual hatred of the Dallas Cowboys as Kool & the Gang played in the background, we chatted.

MOD: So what do you do on the weekends?

Me: Kick it with my homies.

MOD: You married?

Me: Uh, no.

MOD: Got a boyfriend?

Me: YES. He's a ninja/Gladiator/master marksman and stuff.

MOD: That's nice [EDIT: Really? Looks like we have a persistent one, folks]. Got any kids?

I was getting tired of these questions. I look like I could be your daughter, sir. Gross out. Didn't stop me from answering him though.

Me: Yep, five. By seven different men.

MOD: I have a 14-year-old by my first wife.

PAUSE. Damn your daughter's almost as old as me (almost). And first wife? How many have you had? Right then the song ended, putting me out of my misery.

Me: Yeeeaaahhh... I have to go stand over here now. Nice talking to you! << More lies

I was barely off the dance floor before I was accosted by Bachelor #2, some super old head (I'm talking, like, 70-75 here) who'd been putting it on ALLLL the middle-aged ladies that night ::shudders::

MOD #2: Hey young lady, how's 'bout a dance?

Me: No thanks.

Right then a buddy of mine from the crew I came with helped a sista out ("I'm with him") and we two-stepped our a$$es to the bar.

Other highlights of the night:

That old broad who almost shanked us for putting our coats & purses on "her" table. B*tch, chill. And put your wig on straight next time.
That 60-year-old dude who "danced" (it was more like "interpretive seizure") 100 variations of The Robot. And yes, he did challenge one of our crew to a dance off *smh*. I would have videotaped that hot mess with my ~*iPhone*~ but I didn't want to encourage him, lol.
CJ tackling not one, but TWO cougars. At the same time! They love that young meat. Get it.
The two fights that almost broke out, one as I entered the club, then one as we left. Dag old people, get it together, JEEZ.
Getting pulled over and ticketed by the cops on our way to The Diner*.
Saying "Eff The Diner" and going to IHOP instead.

* MAJOR SIGH and SMH at that whole situation. I'll explain in detail in another post.

12/19/09

Chubby bebehs are the best!

My shirt says, "I know I'm cute, but have you seen my dad?" Hmm...

I luh chubby bebehs. When you squeeze 'em in the middle, their cheeks puff out ::awwwww::

11/12/09

Which pair of Air Jordans should I get?

I'm normally a Dunk girl, but I've been leaning toward coppin' my first pair of J's. These, my friends, are fiyah.

Air Jordan 1 Retro. These actually look a lot like Dunks to me

Air Jordan IV Retro (as seen on my fave celebri-whore Amber Rose)

Air Jordan 60+

But I'm torn between the three of them. So...
EDIT: The last poll closed before anyone got a chance to break the tie between the Retro Is and the Retro IVs. So here's your chance, lovelies. You have 14 days to vote!