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TOMBOY CONFESSION: M has said that her confession would only wax poetic about ham or sweet potato pie or my deliciously festive sparkling Cosmopolitan cocktails from Christmas, so I guess I’ll say a few words in her stead. We are both VERY excited about the gun rack my brother and his girlfriend so thoughtfully gave us for Christmas. She keeps fussing with her hair, y’all, saying it’s already gotten too long, despite the fact that it’s only been three weeks since she had it cut. Tomboys!

A bit about this blazer: M found it without much ado at our favorite neighborhood thrift store, for five gay bucks and in pristine condition. Turns out it’s from a little place in San Francisco that’s been in business for over 35 years, The Hound Shop. The embroidered label on the inside says “Tailored for the Montgomery Street Man” and has a great hound in the center – it’s really fantastic. She did a dapper job pairing it with this vintage striped, flat-bottom tie I got her two Christmases ago, I think.

FEMME CONFESSION: I really, really, really love this dress! Another epic thrift store find – it must have been somewhere between $3-$5, tops. From the fluttery little sleeves to the deep pinks and reds to the cut and wearability – it’s almost perfect. I have to try it in some va-va-voom heels and decide whether or not the hem needs to come up a couple of inches. I tossed the beret on as an afterthought on our way out of the door and it really made the buttoned-up look (though the weather was so agreeable, I didn’t need the coat at all).

Long story short, it was a very brilliant Christmas – cozy and raucous and abundant in the best ways – with a very full house, wonderful surprises, lots of incredible food and loved ones. My mother had several silly games with awesome prizes for us to play, including a 2-page, multiple choice Christmas trivia quiz in red and green ink that had us all in stitches (M had the lowest score of everyone, even the foreigners – it was hilarious). Nearly everyone teared up when I opened my mom’s gift to me – several sets of my beloved Grandma’s gorgeous vintage jewelry – I was astonished! Amazed and so, so touched.

Some festive Christmas pics below:

CONFESSION: I love this blouse for so many reasons.

• I got it for, like, $3 at the thrift store
• The awesome pattern on the back
• The tiny, tiny, too many buttons in front
• Pintucks!

The serious little jacket was also a thrift store find on the cheap, hurrah. Also, I feel weird calling this a jacket, because HI it barely has sleeves, but all my research (OK, five minutes on bluefly.com) says it’s a jacket, but I maintain that it’s WEIRD. Today is a kind of sad and disappointing day, but I recommend taking heart in the data documented in this chart or by heading over to my new blog-friend’s blog, Can I Help You, Sir?, for an interesting discussion on femme invisibility.

Want sniffs? Keep scrolling down for another batch of the unending insipid Victoria’s Secret perfume reviews!

SCENTS: With what seems to be the most complex arrangement of notes from Victoria’s Secret thus far, Pink is still a disappointment. You’re shocked, I know. With bergamot, artemesia and violet leaves listed as top notes, and base notes of vetiver and musk, you’d think it’d be kind of lovely. Truth: It’s very pedestrian and I’m getting a lot of the mandarin top note upon first application. It dries down to a tepid, less obnoxious version of itself, but it still pretty skanky, insecure cheerleader.

Dream Angels Desire, you at least smell like your bottle looks. Soft, violet blue and almost stately. There’s something respectable about this one, probably in the austere top notes: white star magnolia, living white freesia, ivy leaves. It’s almost too bad everything lovely about it all but disappears on the drydown, the rest just kind of hovers like a powdery ghost. I bet VS wishes Serena’s mom wore this (from Gossip Girl, guys, come on, get on board). I will set this one aside just in case it has a rival in the rest of the yet-t0-be reviewed bunch, so they can FACE-OFF when this miserable experiment is over and done with.

PS. A treat, if you’d like one:

CONFESSION: Last night, I tried on two of those POS wanker Victoria’s Secret fragrances I got forever ago, with a pair of super soft, sexy pajamas (free slippers with purchase!). One was so gross and cloyingly sweet that M described it as “someone trying to layer on perfume over dirty ass” and I simply referred to it as a whore’s bath perfume. Seriously. I refuse to even bequeath it to anyone since it screams CRUSTY SLUT + EXCESS BRONZER. It’s called Ooh La La, but is more like Oh, Hell Nah. I really hope none of you like it, because I’m not going to feel bad and I’m not going to take it back, either! (Damn it, I just realized that I reviewed OLL in late December of last year, in Shovels & Lye. At least I’m consistent!?)

The Fragrance was No. 2, boasts top notes of crushed leaves, freesia, mandarin (What the fuck kind of leaves? Isn’t that sort of key?) and does begin rather citrus-y and benign. I had to give it another go-round today because Ooh La La sent my senses into a diabetic coma, but it doesn’t seem to change my opinion of it as a rather boring and one-hit wonder scent. Not even a good hit, either. Something Milli Vanilli-ish. (If I spelled that wrong, it’s b/c I refuse to google it for the proper spelling. Fakers don’t get my hits! I have standards.) It’s not offensive, just boring. Very un-sexy. For instance, Laura Bush should totally check this out. It’s perfect for her.

From the Dream Angels collection comes Wish, which is TOTALLY FUCKING AWESOME if you want to smell like orange sherbet ice cream and baby powder, and reminds me of back in the day when my folks would take us to Baskin Robbins on special occasions, and someone would be like, “Oh, you should have some water,” and I’d be all, “The fuck for? I drink my water in Kool-Aid, man. Step off, my peanut-butter-and-chocolate ice cream cone is melting.” Or, you know, changing diapers. Also, it irks me that something so vile has to share the same word with a stellar The Cure album, but what are you gonna do?

Someone at the VS fragrance think tank needs to ground themselves from citrus for, like, a year, and then get back to me.

PS. Ain’t much to say about this outfit ‘cept there’s a mean cold snap this week and mama needs to go SHOPPING. I do, however, have a new brown sheath dress that is super Joan Holloway and was recently procured at the thrift store for FIDDY MOFO CENTS, YO. Holla / Coming Soon.

PPS. What the hell is up with the Christian Siriano for VS make-up collection? When the cover model on the website looks kind of rough in all your war paint, dude, you need to step up your game. Do any of y’all have it? Is it good? Not that I’m in the market…my quick beauty fix lately has been a dusting of Cargo bronzer as a wash over the entire lid, with heavy-handed mascara at the lash base instead of eyeliner. Fresno and Coral Beach are my favorites right now, but it seems the former is discontinued. SOB.

PPSS. Lips? Besame’s Red Velvet. Creamy and subtle red for when MAC’s Russian Red is too much damn work.

When: Thurs., February 5th, 2009.

What: Black dress and dark cyan suede/leather/faux snakeskin boots, H&M. Black and neon striped belt, thrifted. Dingy brown tights, Calvin Klein. Teal suede bag, modcloth.com

Confession: Holy shit, I love these H&M boots. They are new (t0 me), for $7.50. They’re super comfortable and good for stomping around, and I can’t wait to try them on with different outfits. I also love my new neon belt, it’s made out of stretchy something, maybe a nylon/cotton blend, with a silver and leather buckle. It’s not too wide, and the unexpected punch of a color I doubt I’ve ever intentionally worn makes me kind of feel like throwing a tantrum. Also, it was $1. You know you want to come thrifting with me. So bad.

Hot Mama Confession: I also found ten pristine old copies of Sweet Valley High books. ZOMG. I felt like I won the bloody lottery. I’m going to tie them up with a big, drippy pink and red ribbon and give them to the petite for Valentine’s Day! ? ? ? Dreamy, no?

Candy Confession: Those are Sixlets I’m clutching in my hot little hand. SIXLETS. So good. Maybe I’ve also eaten appx. 20 pixy sticks, who can say?

DON’T FORGET TO NOMINATE FIT FOR A FEMME FOR A LEZZY AWARD! YOU CAN NOMINATE ONCE EVERY 24 HOURS! THANK YOU ? THANK YOU ? THANK YOU! ?