Balmain For H&M … Do You Dare?

Screen Shot 2015-10-16 at 2.37.47 PMI like to think you all know me by now. I pretty much wear all black. I’m a hop, skip, and a jump away from being a cat lady (and I’m totally cool with that). And I loathe when designers partner with retailers like Target. Simply because I believe designer clothes are something you have to work for, and not something you should be allowed to pick up on your way to get laundry detergent. 

But people can change … right? 

I gotta say … the Balmain for H&M collection is pretty dreamy. So dreamy that I’ve considered even being one of “those” people who get up crazy early, wait outside in a line full of freaks for the doors of the store to open, and throw bows to get my prized item. Yep. It has happened. What can I say … a good collection can have that affect on even the snarkiest of folk. 

Yet all I see are all the insanely rad fashion bloggers out there like, “Ew. Why. Stop. My eyes. :::Yawn::: :::Hair flip::: :::Sip latte::: :::Instagram lipstick left on latte cup:::” 

But personally … I could give a shit. Simply because A. the collection looks decent and I’m a fan of the designer (and not because of the Kardashians, okay :::shifty eyes:::) and B. more importantly … I’m terribly curious to witness the launch of one of these designer meets retailer collections go down. 

I’ve never had the balls, simply because seeing women go insane and lose their shit and all of their manners just to score some piece of clothing with a designer label on it for H&M prices (which, hi, makes absolutely no sense) makes me wildly uncomfortable. Like palms sweaty, anxiety-ridden uncomfortable. 

Unfortunately, and sadly … really, really sadly, it has been on my fashion bucket list to witness an event as such. I have no idea why. Maybe I think it will be funny. Maybe I’m slightly addicted to the drama of it all. Maybe I’m a writer and this is the kind of crazed shit writers enjoy. Who the eff knows. 

I’m also really scared. Scared of what the sight of cheap designer goods does to the women of the world. Scared that I will literally get punched in the face by an insane women reaching for the same thing as me. Scared that I will get tripped and fall on my face, breaking all of my teeth, only to be left on the floor of H&M bleeding with not a care in sight. And scared I won’t get anything. Dammit, if I’m waiting to get into H&M for crying out loud, mama wants some cheap Balmain

So November 5, if anyone is feeling crazy and wants to wake up super early with me, I’ll be waiting in line at some H&M trying not to get murdered. I’ll buy the donuts, you bring the mace. Let’s do this. 

Until then, let’s drool over all the insane looks, shall we? 

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Bathing Suits And Laying On Rocks

Gisele-Bündchen-HM-2014I am absolutely a realist. Give it to me real. Give it to me straight. So you can imagine how taken back I was when I saw H&M’s new commercial with Gisele Bundchen singing “Heart of Glass” in a string bikini, right?

I heard rumors that she was staring in their new campaign. I even heard she recorded her own version of Blondie’s renowned “Heart of Glass.” And you know what? I tipped my cap to her. I most definitely would NEVER have the balls to make my own version of such an epic song … and that takes BALLS. We are talkin’ Blondie here. It was something courageous and admirable, especially coming from an international super model.

:::Sigh::: and then I see the commercial. What the HELL, people? Her voice isn’t bad … auto tuned to death … but overall not bad. Definitely better than any reality star that has dropped a single, I’ll give her that (hello “Money can’t buy you class”). But what is with the fashion industry thinking women will buy bathing suits if they see stick figure super models with sick bodies just straight chillin’ on a rock with splashing waves behind them.

Seriously … no real woman wants to see that shit. None. Ever. Never ever. When was the last time you were at the beach and said, “hmm … you know what? I’m going to go sunbath on that rock over there with the rough surf surrounding it. I’ll catch you guys in a few.” WHAT?! Seriously. First of all, how uncomfortable could you be? Rocks aren’t comfortable last time I checked. Rocks bruise humans and leave scratches and weird marks. And knowing my luck, I would probably end up with a rock up my ass or some sea creature crawling on me, leading me to freak out, make some quick awkward motions and leaving me with a chipped tooth or unconscious on said rock, or something.

You know what else, when was the last time you were sunbathing, in a string bikini mind you, and said … “hmm, I’m going to lay on my side.” MOST. UNFLATTERING. POSITION. EVER. See below … have you ever done this, hmm? Does this look comfortable and relaxing to you? It looks like something that would induce an anxiety attack to me, personally … because everything just … you know … rolls to the side. Everything. Just sayin’ …
You know what I’m doing when I’m wearing a bikini? Sucking in my stomach slash thinking about my fat rolls … what they are doing, if they are visible, and when and if I should put my mumu back on. Yep. That’s what’s up. I realize if you aren’t comfortable with your body, you should maybe find a suit you are more comfortable in, yeah yeah … blah blah blah … but bathing suits are awkward. They leave little or nothing to the imagination. You mine as well be walking down Broad Street in your bra and panties. For the life of me I have no idea why the sight of “water” makes it all of a suddenly okay to be half naked in front of total strangers. It’s weird, right? Listen, the only way you could get me in a position like the one above on a beach is if Photoshop glasses existed and everyone was wearing them.

So my point is whilst selling bathing suits … keep it real, for the love of God. Because when I’m sitting on my couch eating party mix, sucking down a Diet Coke wearing ratty ol’ PJs with my cat and all of a sudden Gisele in a bikini straight chillin’ on some rocks appears on my TV … yeah that doesn’t exactly make me want to hop in my car and head straight to H&M. It makes me eat more party mix … and maybe invest in another mumu or two … or five.

Versace For H&M Tomorrow … Now GET OOOUUUTTT!

Sigh. Versace for H&M tomorrow. Woo hoo? Sorry, I forgot to purchase my champagne to pop and streamers for the joyous event. I apologize if I seem less than excited for the unveiling of the collection in all H&M stores tomorrow. I really wish I could get excited enough to take a PTO day to wait outside of H&M and jump up and down as I see the overwhelmed store manager come to the door to unlock my Versace dreams, but I just can’t get behind it.

I love Versace, I love Donatella … and I might just love Maya Rudolph’s impression of her even more, “you bitch.” I was in Miami when Gianni got murdered, I may have been like eight years old, but I was there dammit. I feel a connection to the brand, in fact our love recently got re-ignited when Gaga rocked it in her video for Edge of Glory.

Here’s what it is. I’m obsessed with the advertising for Versace at H&M. It is so innovative and actually gets me excited to see the collection up close and personal. From the creepy doll house music and Donatella-esque models roaming about as the real Donatella controls them to the styling. Genius, pure genius. Even the website … I’m obsessed.

But here is what bothers me. Everything I want, including this FANTASTIC belt that defines Versace and is very reminiscent of what Gaga rocked, is listed on the website as being in “select stores,” with no price. What does that mean? I thought Versace was doing a line for H&M so it could be obtainable for the entire general population who cannot afford to make a reservation at an actual Versace boutique, no? And there it is, the one thing I would consider purchasing and it probably is extremely expensive, for H&M that is, and quite limited apparently. Why don’t I just throw in the towel and go find myself a REAL Versace belt, because I bet I can find it in any high-end boutique or department store WITH a price listed. Oh that’s right, I’m not bleeding money.

I’ve just become completely anti-designers doing collections for stores like H&M, Target, Macy’s and so on. Like I said with the Missoni line for Target, a piece from Versace, real Versace, should be a thing you work your ass off to get. Something you strive for, not something you have to smack a bitch to get in an H&M aisle. It is sweet that these designers want everyone to be able to indulge in their fashions, it really is and I commend them for that.

Call me crazy but when I get my first piece of Versace, I don’t want to purchase it with crazy town women fighting over sizes and running around H&M while rioting like it is the end of the world, only to hike the price up ridiculously high and sell it on Ebay, gross. I don’t want to have to wear battle gear and be prepared to elbow women to get exactly what I was looking for. I don’t want to potentially walk out of H&M with claw marks up and down my person as I hold my H&M back as tight as I can, praying to Jesus I don’t get mugged by a Versace thirsty fashion fiend.

What I want is to make a reservation at a Versace boutique and have an extremely snobby Versace bitch serve me champagne and strawberries as she judges me under her breath. I want said snobby Versace bitch to bring out each piece from the collection one by one as I sit in a gold studded white leather chair, observing quietly, considering what I should try on. Call me crazy, but this is what I imagine a proper Versace experience to be like. A girl can dream, can’t she?

If you are going to H&M tomorrow, God speed, I would probably arm yourself with pepper spray or something. I have a feeling that scene isn’t going to be pretty.