Vogue: The New Debbie Downer

debbie-downerNothing makes me pee my pants laughing more than the Debbie Downer skit on SNL. Specifically the episode with Lindsay Lohan where everyone in the skit can’t control their laughter. If you don’t know what I’m referring to, well :::sigh::: shame on you, but let me dazzle you with this, you’re welcome in advance: http://vimeo.com/41787619

I came home from work yesterday to find myself hot, tired, and needing a little escape. Enter Vogue, stage right. Now I have notoriously expensive taste. I can’t help it. I’ve tried, I’ve really tried, but it is in my genes. I want to thank my mother for this one, because the apple doesn’t fall far. So yeah … thanks Mom. But as I poured myself a glass of wine, snuggled in on my couch and started to dive face first into the land of Vogue, I realized something. If you are an average gal like me, makin’ money, but nothing close to Beyonce money, with a taste for the finer things in life, but live on a tight budget … Vogue is the new Debbie Downer. Yep. There. I said it.

“When you’re enjoying your day, everything’s goin’ your way … then along comes Debbie Downer. Always there to tell you about a new disease, a car accident or killer bees. You’ll beg her to spare you, DEBBIE PLEASE! But you can’t stop Debbie Downer! :::WHOMP WHOMP:::”

So this is what was going on in my head as I thumbed through Vogue last night:

Me: OMG that bag is to die for. Seriously. My heart … It’s the perfect color, size, everything. It is exactly what I have been look forward. THANK JESUS! That’s it … I need it. How much could it POSSIBLY be?
Debbie Downer: The bag is Balenciaga … and it is $5,000 … WHOMP WHOMP If you buy it then you’ll most likely end up not being able to pay your rent and living in a van down by the river. And you know what they say, where there are rivers … there are snakes.
Me: :::Heart breaking, fiercely flips page:::


Me: Now look at that dress. That is a dress that every woman needs. It is classic, it is the right length … it’s timeless. This is totally an investment I could make. Oh please be in my price range, please be in my price range :::crossing fingers:::
Debbie Downer: The dress is made by Chanel … and it is so expensive you have to call someone to find out the price. Probably because it is so expensive you will go into cardiac arrest.


Me: Those shoes are everything. EVERYTHING. I would wear them everywhere. I would kiss them every day. I could think of 15 outfits I could pair them with. I could make it work financially … perhaps I’ll sell my blood? Ehh?!
Debbie Downer: Whoa, whoa, whoa … slow down there, Sally, these shoes are Valentino and only Kim Kardashian can afford to buy them like they are pairs of Keds.


Ugh. I literally punted the magazine after I was done torturing myself. Now I’m not stupid. I know Vogue only shows high fashion pieces of clothing and high fashion accessories. I get it, I get it. But just ONCE. ONCE I would like to instantaneously fall in love with a garment on the pages of Vogue and actually and realistically be able to purchase it without hearing this sound.

Hiss … DEBBIE DOWNER …hiss :::shaking fist:::

Welp … Kanye Got His Way

Kanye West new video Bound 2 featuring Kim KardashianHere is how I believe it went down … ahem:

Kanye: Yo Anna, let Kim rock Vogue.

Anna Wintour: :::Laughing hysterically::::

—–Month later—–

Kanye: Anna, about Kim being on the co …

Anna Wintour: Before you even start, I’m going to stop you right there. No.

—–Month later—–

Anna Wintour’s receptionist: Anna, Kanye is on line 1

Anna Wintour: Tell him no then hang up

—-Month later at an after party—-

Kanye: Anna, Kim needs to rock that cover.

Anna Wintour: No.

Kanye: Anna.

Anna Wintour: NO.

—-Month later—-

Kanye: Anna, please.

Anna Wintour: No

Kanye: YES! This is happening.

Anna Wintour: NO!

—–Month later—-

Kanye: Listen …


——And scene—-

Anna Wintour totally got bamboozled. I mean if Ye kept harassing me enough with ridiculous requests as I was trying to run a fashion empire … I would most definitely give him exactly what he wanted to shut him up. I mean, it’s only one cover, right?

Well I’ve been going back and forth about how I feel about this. Apart of me loathes Kim Kardashian and everything she stands for. But another part of me has this weird obsession with her. Hell I chopped my hair off this week basically due to her influence. And I adore the fact that she rarely wears color. See? Weird obsession.

But after a lot of thought (pathetic, right?), I think when Keeping Up With the Kardashian’s started, or post sex tape, Kim K was a hot dirty mess. She pretty much was a hot dirty mess up until she started dating Kanye. See examples below. Hell. We all make mistakes.



And now let’s look at Kim Kardashian under Kanye’s spell, shall we:



It’s all magic. Pure magic. It makes me not only want to up my style game, but start breaking the bank buying designer fashions. It’s flawless … and basically all because of Kanye. The man has taste. As cray as people think he is, he actually is kind of a creative genius. All good artists are cray. That is a fact.

So therefore I believe Kim K is the fashion industry’s pheonix. Kanye made her rise from the ashes of bandage dresses and oversized belts so she can rub shoulder’s with the fashion industry kings and queens … so much that she is on the cover of freaking Vogue … after Anna Wintour said she would NEVER put a reality star on the cover. And once upon a time I would have 100% agreed with her, but the girl has kind of proven herself to be not just trendy, but classically stylish … and I think that is what Vogue is all about. I mean the girl isn’t going around rocking crop tops and trucker hats and indulging in all things trendy. She is wearing looks fresh off the runways of fashion weeks from around. the. world.

And let’s be real, every person that has graced the cover of Vogue most likely has or had a full-time stylist. Kim K’s stylist just happens to be her future husband. I can only pray for a man to come into my life and throw out everything in my closet and replace it all with couture. I mean that is every girl’s dream. Right? No? Just me?

Throw stuff at the screen if you must, but I think it’s kind of okay that she is on the cover … because she is gracing the cover with the guy who made her rise from the fashion industries ashes.


You Can’t Photoshop Real Life, Kids

CaptureWith everyone hating on Vogue and Elle for their huge Photoshop fails, and throwing stones at Kim Kardashian for Instagramming a supposed Photoshopped pic of her ass post-workout, it has made me think about the concept of Photoshopping.

If Anna Wintour called me tomorrow and said, “Kate, I need you on the cover of our next issue of Vogue,” after I came to from passing out, I would be FREAKING the eff out. Want to know why? Because perfection is an unobtainable thing. If you think it is and strive for it every day, you are a fool. Flaws are what make everyone beautiful, they are the best part of a person. They establish character.

With that being said, I’m INCREDIBLY flawed. I’m in a love affair with carbs, I rarely workout, I love wine and vodka, and my skin is the farthest thing from flawless … and it’s all fantastic. But is that the definition of “cover girl?” Umm no. My life is neither easy nor breezy. And if I was asked to be in a photo shoot tomorrow for the cover of Vogue, hell YES I would want to be Photoshopped, but only just a touch. Make me look healthy, my skin look less like pale death, remove the bags from underneath my eyes, and if I happen to have a double chin, hack that thing off. But keep me lookin’ like me, for the love!

I would absolutely call myself a realist. And the models and superstars on and in magazines, aren’t real. Let me tell you a little story about when I was a jazz dancer in high school, and violently obsessed with Britney Spears. My thighs were a bit larger from dancing, and I never could understand why Britney was such a stick even though she danced so much more than I did. It made me feel bad about myself. Then I saw her and her thighs in concert. The woman was NOT a stick, she actually had muscle to her … and it was like the greatest day of my life. Thanks Photoshop, for making my 17-year-old self feel like a fat ass even though I wasn’t.

And then there was that time I interned at a magazine (won’t name it because I don’t want to get hurt … or sued … either or) and I remember them taking the cover models mouth and replacing it with a different one. Umm … excuse me? Like I get slimming people down, making them have more of a light and fresh glow … but a completely new mouth?! Didn’t realize models signed up for the body part buffet when they went through Photoshop … Christ.

Listen, I’m not trying to get sappy here or break out in song, but all women are beautiful in their own way. Women who get butchered in Photoshop … not so much. It’s true. Like I said, flaws are bad ass. I would rather look at a real woman on the cover of Vogue that had curves and flaws than a non-existent one some art director created out of thin air that makes me feel bad about myself as I’m eating a loaf of bread.

I challenge magazines from Elle to Vogue to W to embrace the real woman. Use Photoshop for good. Make me look radiant and not like I just went on a three-day bender (not that I did). Don’t take away what my momma gave me, accentuate it for the best! Otherwise we are teaching very influential young ladies out there that you should do everything in your power, including plastic surgery, to change yourself when you should be embracing it.

As much as I wish I could take an airbrush and remove the blemishes, pale complexion, and all of that extra weight I really wish I didn’t have in the morning … I can’t, so I work with what I got. Maybe you should do the same, publications. Perhaps that would stop you from hacking off ladies’ limbs … just sayin’.



Got Crushed Condé Dreams?

tumblr_mdpa1o4HfI1rqp20wo1_500When I was in high school, the thought of working as a writer at Vogue, for me, was better than getting the opportunity to meet Mick Jagger in person. It was everything. It was the reason why I worked tirelessly in all of my English/creative writing classes in high school. It was the reason why I fought my way in to publications at age 18 to start my freelancing career. Hell, it is the reason I am doing what I am doing here today.

I don’t want to quote Drake right now, but I see no other option … :::sigh::: in the editorial world you truly gotta start from the bottom so in 20 years you can say “now we here!” Gross, let’s disregard that moment, shall we. Moving on. So internships in college are a must. I truly believe you can’t get anywhere in the editorial world without them. And hearing that Condé Nast has axed their internship program is devastating on so many levels.

When I realized I couldn’t just waltz into Vogue and start writing after I graduated high school, I got hungry for editorial internships. Mind you this was during the “LC and Whitney Teen Vogue” era … and every girl in her 20’s who thought she had an ounce of style was fighting for these prized positions so she could sit in a style closet, pretend to type on a Mac computer and discuss boy drama and last night’s events at Le Deux with fellow interns.

I won’t lie to any of you though. I met one of my best friends at a style internship. And we (sometimes) sat in our intern office on our Mac computers and kind of felt like Whitney and LC, but secretly loathed them at the same time because we were the real deal. Unlike them, we spent our internships fact checking and looking for any and every opportunity to get a chance to be published in the mag and impress out editors. And no, this was NOT a Condé internship. We were hungry … and if we got the opportunity to go to Paris, we would have gone. Lauren didn’t go to Paris. Lauren stayed at the beach with her boyfriend. How did that work out for you? (Sorry I couldn’t help but drop that epic quote from The Hills).

I’m devastated for my once 18-year-old self and current hungry young style writers with big Condé Nast dreams that will never be fulfilled. I get it, high-powered editors are sick of toying around with interns who are just there to be “there” or don’t give a shit, or feel entitled and just want “Vogue Magazine Intern” on their resumes. There is nothing worse than a shitty intern. BUT … there are diamonds in the sea of slackers, high-powered editors, there are diamonds.

For young, driven style writers (ew I sound like I’m 80), walking in to an internship should be intimidating, yet one of the most memorable moments of your life. It should be something you want to throw your entire self into. It should make you want to ask questions, ask more questions, and go above and beyond your role as an intern. Saddle up because you will be asked to do some shit-tay things … but do it with a smile. You might not get paid, and if you DO get paid ANYTHING … get down on your knees and thank sweet Jesus, because in my day (hello … I’m a granny), that was a rarity. Do everything in your God damn power to have your editor say to you on your last day, “you’re hired.” If you don’t feel that in an internship … kindly leave.

But for the young writers with crushed Condé dreams, your careers aren’t over. Trust. There is life outside of Condé, believe me. Just because the curtains have closed on the Condé internship program doesn’t mean one day you won’t be rubbing shoulders with Anna Wintour somewhere. Truth.

Signing off … your wise, old granny style writer :::shaking cane:::