Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Christian Louboutin



Carrie Bradshaw has Manolo Blahniks. Nicole Richie has Jimmy Choos.

Ho-hum. Yawn.

"I want to make shoes that are like jewels," Christian Louboutin explains. "Shoes are more than just an accessory; they are an extension of a woman."

I love this guy. If I am going to spend more than $500 on a pair of shoes, you better believe it's gonna be a fucking extension of my womanhood. And you guys, they are. They frickin are. With their signature fuck-me red insoles and whimsical styles, you can tell a Louboutin from the rest of the designer bunch.

These shoes are so awesome, they can't even be name-checked in Jay-Z or Beyonce tracks. It would somehow cheapen them. It doesn't even matter that you can't rhyme "Louboutin" with anything. It's like Le Bernardin. Not trendy; awesome. Meant to last. Built for eternity.

Do I sound like the voice-over of a Debeers ad? Or weird and Gollum-y? I'm worried I do. But I kind of don't care because I'm infected with this Veruca Salt "I want it, Daddy!! I want it!!!" covetousness for Christian Louboutin shoes.

How do I explain these shoes versus others?

If I were a cool New York midtown professional girl, I'd wear Miu Miu. No doubt. Comfortable and edgy.



If I wear a LA party girl, I would wear Choos. I'd even get wasted and leave them in the sink at Winston's or whatever. (But it wouldn't matter, my twin wears the same size and we always share shoes.)



If I were one of those mail order brides rich Saudi princes and billionaires bought from America, I would wear Christian Lacroix, of course.



If I was a serious-but-sexy Yale grad student in dramaturgy, I'd wear Robert Clergerie.



If I was Ron Meyer's classy wife, I'd do Weitzman or Prada.



But if I was a twenty-something crazily consumeristic comedy writer-performer who wants glitzy bad-ass shoes to wear to red carpet events, and then keep them on later to prance around in at 3AM when I'm only in a bra and underwear singing Gwen Stefani's "Luxurious" as a striptease for my boyfriend...I would wear Christan Louboutin.




Price: ridiculous, but worth it (over $500 usually)

Good for: Women, not girls. (Girls should wear kick-ass sparkly Nine West shoes. These are shoes for sexually active women. Sorry).

There are a few boutiques in LA and two in New York, but the place to get them is their adorable West Village location, fo sho:

59 Horatio St., New York, NY 10014
at Greenwich St.
212-255-1910

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Taser C2


I love my fans - God bless 'em, I wouldn't be where I am without 'em. But an unfortunate aspect of being in the public eye is that occasionally, you get confronted by the screwball who's just a little too aggressive. Fortunately, there's a vast array of non-lethal weaponry which gives me that extra feeling of security when I'm walking down the street. Of course you never want to use this stuff - but it's nice to know you have it.

My own personal security force option is the Taser C2. It's your standard compressed nitrogen-powered electronic control device, with a range of about 15 feet, which is frankly more than you'd need. It doesn't look like a gun or anything - you can even pick your colors. But it's a threat stopper - usually you don't need to do more than take the thing out.

Taser C2, available at http://store.nexternal.com/shared/StoreFront/default.asp?CS=tasermerch&BusType=BtoC&Count1=752727687&Count2=669868111 in black pearl, electric blue, metallic pink, or titanium (my choice). $299.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Giant OCR 2

I've long struggled with two aspects of LA life: traffic and pollution. First I got my motorcycle license -- good for traffic, slightly better for pollution. I nixed that because I realized that I would never be able to break the news to my mom. Then I bought a new, sporty car that would enable me to weave through lanes -- good for traffic, bad for pollution.
I love my car, but I never drive it, because of this, my third and most perfect way of coping with traffic and pollution:

My Giant OCR 2 road bike. I ride this little human-powered movement factory to work almost every day. Last Saturday my girlfriend and I rode to the Griffith Observatory. To say that the most glorious celestial bodies on display were our own would be inaccurate, but only due to Io.

Pros:
  • Gets you places
  • Fun
  • Saves money on gas
  • Helps maximize the potential of your thighs
  • If you buy one, we can go for rides together
  • Gives moral superiority over everyone
Cons:
  • With moral superiority comes responsibility
  • Breathe a lot of car exhaust
  • I will be killed by an SUV by year's end
Price: $900

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Kookaburra Licorice

I see kids eating Twizzlers at the movies and I'm like "Why, kids, why? Why are you eating those ribbed wax sticks?"




Licorice is an acquired taste, I think.

That's my polite way of saying I think it's super gross.

Under most circumstances, any friend of yours who is telling you they'd rather eat licorice than Sour Patch Kids or jelly beans is a fucking liar. (Unless, of course, they're some Depression-era elderly person. It's okay to like licorice back in old timey times when licorice could be bought at a penny candy store. That licorice was hard-earned and has cachet). This is the only possible exception.

So when our PA Kevin bought Kookaburra strawberry licorice for our writers pantry, I was like "You have to be kidding me, Kevin. Where are the non-pareils (a favorite) or chocolate covered raisins (another favorite)?" Kevin was all "uhhh maybe other people will like it I don't just do all the shopping for you." I was so mad.

Then I got bored later and ate one.

Oh my god, you guys. They are so amazing, we can't like, have them anymore at work, because there is no such thing as moderation anymore. All of a sudden you're like "oh god we have Kookaburra, I have to eat the entire container before Lee or Gene get to them aaaaahhhhh!!!!"

Way better than Sour Patch Kids, by the way. The only way to describe them is to think of the awesomest strawberry fruit roll up you've ever eaten melted and congealed into a little flavor log. Okay that sounds disgusting. Just try these things. Apparently they are Australian or something and have a cute little folksy backstory, but honestly, I didn't even finish reading it because the product is so good.

Good for: any human, pregnant women with cravings, I bet.

Price: $4.99 for a tub
available at Trader Joes or at www.kookaburralicorice.com