H-Town Fanciness.

So I am currently in Houston with the fam for 4th of July weekend/niece's birthday celebration. Good times. We went shopping at the Galleria today - the Galleria....the huge, fancy pants Houston shopping mall.

Now I'm not going to post a huge long thing about it, but I thought it was slightly hysterical when compared to the other blog I'm working on (with pics! so stay tuned) about my previous shopping excursion to the Alexandria mall.

I'd previously been to the Galleria only once on a field trip, so we didn't really venture too far from the food court and skating rink. This time we went into lots of stores, though. And they have all of the full blown luxury stores here. Louis Vuitton, Armani, Chanel, Gucci, etc. Some, like Burberry, which I LOVE, I couldn't even go into. I just stood by the window, admiring the cute stuff. I love plaid. I love big coats. I love Burberry. But even if I had enough money to buy the whole store, I don't know if I could ever justify doing it.

It's weird...there are definitely inherent cultural differences between the way I live and the way Houstonians live. I read something about how people from Houston spend more money per capita at restaurants each year than residents of any other city in the country. That's just the first difference of many.

I guess people just make a lot more money here and like to spend a lot more of it than what I'm used to. It's quite bizarre to me, though. I can't even fathom being rich enough to be able to throw down thousands of dollars on something I'm going to WEAR. Then you have to murder someone when it gets stained/broken/ruined. I mean....it's stuff! I know it's nice to look nice and nice to have nice things...but seriously!? For that pair of shoes, you could pay for a year of some colleges. You could feed a hundred hungry people. You could fly round-trip to some fabulous destination.

Anyway...we came across a shoe store called "Gregory"...which we had to go into because my nephew's name is Gregory....and because we saw the window display of the horrible stripper heels and figured we had to get a closer look...

Something else I hate about shopping in fancy stores is that the people that work there will not stop harassing and hovering over you. I realize they work on commission (PRETTY WOMAN!), but give me a freaking break! Maybe I just looked like I was gonna try to steal something...ANYWAY....

We went into Gregory, and started pointing and looking and commenting on how terrible some of the stripper heels were....and then the sales girl let us know about their big sale.

Y'all ready for this?

Strappy, two-inch platform, fug-ass shoes. They look about Payless-quality-only uglier - ....and they're having a BIG SALE!......

And this bitch says, "Three pairs for twelve hundred."

COME AGAIN? $1,200? Like yen? Or like American dollars? I can get the same shit at Frederick's of Hollywood for less than five hundred fa sho. Sales girl must have lost her mind.

Which got us thinking....

What sort of woman who can afford to spend $400 on a pair of shoes would buy THESE shoes? It must be far more expensive to be a stripper than I thought. Or, I don't know...does Houston have "escort" services? Maybe THAT's who shops there.

People be crazy. And people be spendin too much money on crazy, unimportant things.

That is all for today. If I don't post again until then, I hope everyone has a very Happy 4th!

Why Do Rednecks Like This Stuff?

Ahh, rednecks. So much to love. So much to hate. And so much I don't understand.

There are a few pieces of redneck memorobilia that I just don't get. Why are these things enjoyable? Why are they must-haves? What is the purpose of these things?

Allow me to explore a few of these little tidbits of redneck life...

1. My main purpose for writing a post on this topic is the testicle-like accesories that many of these folks choose to hang from their trailer hitches.

Why? No...really...I'd love to know why. Is this a symbol of PURE MASCULINITY? Like..."I'm a man. And my truck is a man. Check out its nutsack." I mean, if that's the case, then why not go HUGE and paint a giant scrotum on your tailgate? Or put a giant weiner as a hood ornament? Many of them have already gone obnoxiously huge as far as tire size or truck volume, so what's one more obnoxious vehicular adjustment?

2. Larry the Cable Guy
I know. He has legions of fans. People love him. I just don't think he's funny. Like, at all. The jokes are all the most obvious kinda stuff you'd hear from any local redneck. His timing is terrible. I just don't get it. Now Ron White...HE is funny. I'd take Ron White over Larry the Cable Guy any day. This also goes for the phrase "Git 'Er Dun!" or however that nonsense is spelled.

3. The "other" vehicular decorations.
This is all the other stuff rednecks like to decorate their cars with. Giant decals and bumper stickers with their names and other information that no one else cares about and totally shines a spotlight on their ignorance. Like whether or not they are "Skeered." At least Bud and Sissy had license plates. I also don't think that having three-foot praying hands on your back glass means that you're a religious person. In fact, it probably means you have something to prove, and therefore, I do not trust you.

4. The clothes.
Ok, now I'm certainly not trying to be a snob here. I understand that it's hard to afford the latest fashions. I don't dress like a movie star either. But come on, man. Don't buy white boots if you plan on wearing them every day for the next several years. They don't hold up well. Also, why did redneck fashion stop at various points in the 70s and 80s? The acid wash. The airbrushed t-shirts. The tight, floral pants. Oy vey. It's too much to bear.

5. The lady beautification.
Again, this is not my domain. I'm of more of the "I don't care" philosophy, but I do know a thing or two about how to get pretty when necessary, and it doesn't involve a can of Aqua Net and back-combing my bangs. Or uncomfortably long Lee Press On Nails.

6. The art
Velvet paintings. There was obviously a first person to take a piece of velvet and say, "this is so nice and plush...I think I'll stretch it out and use it as a canvas." Who was this person? I want a name. Velvet paintings are also almost always of hilarious subjects. Like panthers and other jungle cats. They are actually so bad that, for me, they've gone back to good again. I recently saw a velvet painting of an old hillbilly drinking something moonshine-esque out of a jug, and I really, really want it. If I ever get enough money to own and decorate my own home one day, it will be filled with hilarious things of that sort. Like this gem. OMG I must have this.

My apologies to any of you reading this that may have or enjoy any of the aforementioned things. Just let me know when, and I'll get you a little something for your suffering.

Potpourri...I Don't Get It.

I understand wanting to have a house or car or office that smells nice. I'm big on smells. There was a commercial for something once that said that scent is the sense that has the closest ties to memory. I don't know the science behind all that business, but I think it's bound to be true. When I smell certain things, I automatically think about other times I've smelled it - where I was, what I was doing, etc.

A good example of that is Dial soap. The orange kind. It makes me think of being a little kid and washing my hands at Mawmaw Nucy's house before lunch (or before touching anything in her house - "tidy" would be the understatement of the century to describe Mawmaw. A cousin of mine once said that Mawmaw's floor was cleaner than most plates he eats off of. That's probably not false. And that's not an insult against his plates.).

A bad example of that is disgusting dirty bathroom rotten crotch mixed with B.O. The first time I had the luxury of basking in this delight was when I went on my trip to Europe. It was hot. Euro ladies were sweaty and wearing tight pants. I had to pee really badly. There was no escape. I have since smelled that odor one other time...at Jazz Fest.

Then there's the same old story about certain perfumes or colognes reminding you of people. That's just how it is. Scents stay with you, for better or worse.

Having said that, I don't get potpourri. Now I'm not talking about the spray kind, or the candles or bags (that you aren't supposed to open) or whatever other sort of incarnations that crap comes in that I'm unaware of because I have allergies and just generally am not super girly enough to care about that sort of crap anyway....

I'm talking about the dyed wood shavings and acorns and leaves and shriveled, dried up fruits and whatever other kinds of ridiculous crap they put in that stuff. What is all that? And, more importantly, why??

Why can't you just have something that will scent a room without looking like a dish of bar snacks? (Funny story: My grandpa, while on a trip with two of his grandsons and in a full-blown bout of crazy [see previous post on Geezerville], actually grabbed some of the "decorative" potpourri out of a dish, mistaking it for delicious treats, and ate it.) Are they trying to poison the elderly with red and blue dyes and whatever else is in that stuff? Was this type of potpourri developed by deranged children of the wealthy who want their parents to snack on it during a bout of crazy so that they can quickly collect their inheritance?

It's not like it's always different types of foliage in this stuff either. Oh no. The scents, or "flavors" as my sister would say, don't necessarily correspond to what the artificially-colored compost is. There's still twigs and berries in it no matter if it's "Mountain Berry" or effing "Vanilla Meadow." There might be a cinnamon stick thrown in for good measure if the scent is cinnamon-based, but I think that may be the one exception.

What I'm getting at is...do we really need dishes in our house full of snack impostors that will confuse old people, small children and perhaps even pets? It's really not that pretty, so it's not like it would make a killer centerpiece. It's artificially-colored and scented. It's a waste of time and space, and it's going to kill The Greatest Generation and Man's Best Friend. Do Gramps and Fido a favor and get a candle.

-Sidenote- Do y'all remember the big scandal when the spray cans of potpourri...the ones with the big flower display photos on the can...had hidden wieners in them? I've gotta meet the dude who did that. That's the prank of the century right there. All the old ladies and soccer moms spraying cans of potpourri around their houses that have a picture of your junk hidden on it like Waldo. Priceless.