my mane girl

Today I get to spend time with someone who is both lusciously foxy and endlessly entertaining. A pleasure to dish with and a dazzling babe of phenomenal virtuosity, she graciously bestows upon me the contents within her magical treasure trove: the gifts of coiffure, color, compelling conversation, and ice cold mutha-effin' 40'z. Oh, and did I mention her scissor swagger is the biz? This killer kitty somehow managed to brilliantly save me from a tragic haircut that to this day still gives me blood-curdling chills when I come across it in old photos right before ripping them to shreds. Ladies, unless you are a trained professional, don't even think about fashioning up some homemade kitchen sink Bettie bangs. You'll look unspeakably ridiculous, and I don't want to have to snag the snapshots to further illustrate why it's a bad idea.

So Jen, you know I've been having a brunette moment lately, but how do you feel about this look down here? Nothing too flashy, maybe just a few of the ends severed off.

xoxo kitty cat!

repressions of a beauty product slut: smell this

Even though it's still only April, I'm choosing to ignore the snowdrops and icebergs (still!?) plaguing my existence and instead focus my attention on the subtle signs floating through the air that indicate summer is right around the corner. Summertime is a special time indeed, a span of time in which I can bust out bottles of my two favorite fragrances and spritz away with heated abandon. My dressing table is twinkling with purrr-fume bottles, among them a variety of bright juiciness and dark sensuality: Dior Pure Poison and Dolce Vita. Chanel Allure and Coco Mademoiselle. Stella McCartney's Stella... Roses, patchouli, coconuts, candied yams, gasoline, ganja, oh my! Fragrant scents are truly glorious and I could forever expound upon their inspiring effects on my sensitive olfactory epithelium. But I digress. Perfumes are not simply something to be splashed on and forgotten. Truly primo potions provide an almost meditative experience in which I must contemplate heavily to understand the depth and true complexity of each note. Sound gay? Keep reading.

Let us begin with the lighter fare, Dolce & Gabbana's Light Blue. I don't exactly recall how I became entranced by this wondrous fragrance, as I wasn't attracted to the bottle, I'm not particularly drawn toward floral scents, and blue is probably my least favorite color. But the combination of bluebell, white rose, jasmine, amber, musk, and Granny Smith apple is fresh, feminine and absolutely heavenly. If you pinched the cheeks of the fluffiest white cloud in the sky on a hot spring day, not only would it giggle like the Pillsbury Dough Boy binged out on nitrous oxide, it would also surely smell like Dolce & Gabbana's Light Blue. The amazing thing is, for such a smooth, pure, light fragrance, the scent lingers softly on your wrists all throughout the day. To put it another way, if you suddenly felt the urge to punch someone in the head, it would really just be like a soft supple aromatic kiss on the lips.

Now, if you're looking for a deeper soft-Oriental blend, I have tried them all, and the most compelling concoction I can put you on to is Missoni's eau de Parfum. I can inhale this heady aroma and instantly travel across time and space to a sun-drenched all nude Italian beach. This is one sizzling, luxurious bouquet of bergamot, magnolia, gianduia chocolate, amber, peony, rose, persimmon, loquat, and bitter orange. Don't be turned off by the chocolate and orange notes, because this isn't one of those cloying garbage scents like the ones you purchase on a marijuana-fueled whim at a Bath & Body Works during an aggressive mall-walking escapade (guilty!) It's more reminiscent of an Easter basket Willy Wonka would throw together while acid-tripping on a mouthful of Everlasting Gobstoppers. In other words, it's totally unexpected and dripping with magic.

repressions of a beauty product slut: part 1

I have a confession: I'm a beauty junkie with a pretty severe habit and product is my poison. Whether I'm lurking the aisles of Rite-Aid at midnight or balling out at Sephora in broad daylight, one thing is for certain: You'd best believe imma get my fix! I'm mesmerized by glosses and glitter, powders and polishes, faux eyelashes and fancy packaging. I'm a sucker for glamour, and even though I don't layer on cosmetics everyday, I make up for it with heavy experimentation (not to be confused with a heavy hand, ladies... psych!) If you ask me, perfectly coiffed eyebrows are crucial for a compelling beauty look, and if you don't complete your routine with a trannylicious mega-arch, then why even bother? The only other accent necessary for truly completing a look is a couple inky coatings of ebony mascara. In my mind, mascara application is equal parts art and science. Of course, the resulting effect, however, is pure sex. It goes without saying that when contemplating mascaras, as with men, the choice between length and volume is not always an obvious one. You can have length, you can have volume, but 9 times out of 10, you cannot have both (unless you're me). So, choose your wands wisely, women. The soulful Leroy Sibbles of the Heptones once crooned "Purrty looks isn't all" and the Maybelline Define-A-Lash Mascara packaging proves his wisdom as fact. If you're trying to keep those purse strings on a short leash, you can still afford to coat your fringe with this delicious drugstore dime piece. Like most awesome inventions, its packaging is budget and gaudy, but I personally guarantee that it curls and twirls like a pearl. Whether it's Maybelline or M.A.C., I love all my mascaras the same, but different. Just like little tube babies. Wow. Moving on...

(Boi-oi-oiingg!!)

Now, if you're like me, you save your various loose coins and paper money in a sleazy NYC Chinatown coffee cup and hide it away until you have accumulated enough dough for this amazing purchase I plan to exchange bankroll for in the very near future: How rad is it that Too Faced has dreamed up this Mood Swing Emotionally Activated Lip Gloss featuring the très gorgeous Smurfette! Not only are they taking it all the way back to the Saturday morning cartoon freak within me, but a flash in the pan nod to the quixotic mood ring, too?! This mouth-watermelon'ing flav shimmers on your smackers in a Smurf-blue hue, then depending on your mood, activates to various shades of Smurfberry pink. Cop a color wheel, friendo, cuz my lips speak Smurf now, swak you very much.