Drunk Girl Goals

So far, SweetBird and I have shared with you our musings on some pretty random shit. Being able to just write about whatever the hell we feel like really helped us get this beast back up and running, but I promise, we have every intention of finding some focus for the future.

Here are some of our article goals for the future:

1. Photo Shoots.

I have some pretty splendid photographer friends that I want to employ* so they can not only help us with photo shoots, but also so I can pimp out their incredible talent.

To start, I’m mixing up some good ideas with my handsome friend Jd White. (check out his work here – http://jdwhitephoto.com/). Last summer, he did a shoot of the girls on our kickball team and well, you can see why I want to keep working with him.

Badass shit. (Hey Chingas!) I’ll also question the shit out of our photographers in order to build a rad fashion-minded profile about them.

*  “employ” is a loose term, which means we’ll probably just buy him lots of beers and let him take pics of us in our underwear.

2. Videos

While I’m busy hittin up the photogs, SweetBird is busy producing video blog ideas for us. Have you seen her work? She’s a budding director, editor, etc, etc of short films. But since she’s only ever posted one video, we both decided she needs more practice before sending in our Sundance submission.

One of our video ideas is to have you submit questions to us so we can get drunk and answer them. So, seriously, send us questions!

Need advice about your outfit, a trend, the boy or girl you want to ask out, your asshole coworker? Send them to us and let us help guide you. Send to wineandpanties@gmail.com or our Facebook Page.

3. Man-pinion

On our old site, we used to run a feature called “Boner or No Boner” where we’d ask our dude friends to rate a series of pictures on any given fashion trend using a scale from 1-10 boners. We’d choose the best quotes to publish along with their ratings. It was fucking hilarious. So naturally we want to bring that back.

We’ve had “Hipster Fashion: Boner or No Boner” in the works for quite some time and that will most likely be our first foray back into this feature. Additionally, you can probably expect to see interviews, op-eds, and contributions from our mens.

The half shave. How many boners does this random girl get?

4. Features

As part of our efforts to expand beyond fashion features, we also want to profile cool shit around Portland. We know lots of rad people, we like to find rad places, and generally, there is a lot of weird random rad shit in Portland, so what the hell, we’re gonna write about it.

We also like to feature our girlfriends that have style so hot we want to hump it. Hence our feature “Style Humping”. Watch for it.

 

5. Reviews

I told you I’d slap avocado on my face to see if it would make me glow. We’ll also have SweetBird do more scary shit, like tattoo her eyelids (she really did that!), or try out the make-up how-to’s in magazines, or the sex advice in Cosmo, or…really whatever we want. It’s our blog. We do what we want. And after we do it, we’ll tell you if you should do it too.

I really do still need to try those fake lip tattoos..

6. Continuous Snark

This was my effort to let you know about what’s in store for our future. Obviously, regardless of what we do, you can always count on us to be snarky about it. That’s what makes it so fun, no? Well, it’s at least always fun for us.

Exhibit A

To recap:

  • Awesome people are going to take awesome pictures of/for us.
  • SEND US QUESTIONS so that we can video ourself answering them. Drunk.
  • You know you want to hear men talk about fashion.
  • There is cool shit and rad people in Portland. We’re gonna write about all of it.
  • We try stuff. We tell you if you should try it too.
  • We’re best friends and we’re sassy bitches. If you read this blog, you can’t escape it.

SweetBird, feel free to add anything I’ve left out. I know there’s a lot.

xoxo,

Lou

We Shall Take Over The World…

….One bitchy tweet at a time.

Cheap Wine and Pantylines twitter! Go follow. Right now.

I leave you with this mail order Russian bride giving us some hipster ducklips and wearing a top from Wet Seal circa 2001.

Your PBR Chub Ain’t Sexy

Imagine you’re making out with this sexy girl. She’s got the face of a Vicky Secret model. She’s all full lips, big eyes, nice tits and giggles. And then you snake your hand down the back of her pants to squeeze her sweet ass…..and it feels like your hand just plunged into a pile of bread dough.

I’m talking about the dreaded SKINNY GIRL FAT. 

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Here:

Mischa Barton is NOT FAT. That’s not what I’m saying. She’s skinny fat. As in a girl who is naturally slender and therefore lacks the motivation to get her ass to the gym and firm that shit up.

You see this a lot in Portland. We are not a city of gym rats. We’re a city of drunk elitists who are too cool to get on a treadmill. We will drink our calories, smoke our cigarettes and at 2 AM eat mac and cheese and tater tots. And we are skinny fat.

This isn’t relegated just to women. Men are guilty of this as well.

I apologize to our readers, for making you see that. I also apologize to whoever that man might be. This may have been a personal photo from his honeymoon and here I am using it to demonstrate how a slender man can gather pudge around his waist. Resulting in his ass shrinking away into to sad, flat baby heads instead a nice pert pair of….uh…melons?

I’m not mocking these people from afar. I’m standing right in the donut shop line with them.

Over the last year, without meaning to, I lost 15 pounds. I’m 5’6″ and generally my weight settles around 135, unless I’m being a depressive taco bell addict. Then it can inch up to 145. Now I’m at 125 pounds. Suddenly I’m wearing jeans with a 27″ waist and even finding those large occasionally. I haven’t worn a 27 ever. (Maybe when I was in 6th grade. I do remember buying some size 1 Bongo jeans back then.)

But…

I am pure mush. When my boyfriend touches my ass or waist I cringe because I feel like a pack of extra soft tofu. Yet you can see my ribs. That, to me, is far more gross than when I was barely buttoning jeans at 145 pounds. It’s so unhealthy. It’s so weak. It’s soooooo fucking lazy.

Generally, skinny fat people will see results when they make the slightest bit of effort. Do push-ups for a few days, feel a firmer arm. Do some squats, feel your butt lift. We’re starting from pure jello so we have nowhere to go but up. And yet…it’s so much easier to eat corndogs at $1 corndog night while gulping down PBR.

Well, fuck that shit. Wait, no, actually I’ll still be eating corndogs and swilling cheap beer. But I’ve also just signed up for twice a week aerial classes and it’s going to either kill me or transform me.

The last time I did it, I was in the best shape of my life. I would post a before picture here so I can show you the amazing results 8 weeks from now but I don’t want to expose you guys to my weird skinny chub. Just use our friend Mischa as a reference.

So if you’re a skinny fatty, get off your couch and do some god damn sit ups! No one wants to squeeze a dough ball during sex, no matter how cute you are.

On that note, I really want a jalapeno cream cheese grilled cheese sandwich right now. I’m dead serious.

Music Festival or Asshole Parade?

I don’t think I actually care that people completely change their fashion for three days of music in the California desert, but I do think it’s pretty ridiculous how many celebrities and “celebrities” go to Coachella every year just to see and be seen all while looking like they’re going to the hippie equivalent of a Renaissance Fair.

It’s just that, I read a lot of gossip blogs and I certainly don’t see the extent of celebrity fashion parading around Bonnaroo, Lolapalooza, or the lesser known Sasquatch in our very own PNW. If everyone wants to dress up like a slutty Woodstock flashback at Coachella, why don’t I have the pleasure of seeing the same ding dongs putting on flannels and grungy Doc Martins for Lolapalooa?

I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that this particular festival is held in California, celebrity mecca, but still, every year around this time I chuckle to myself when I see things like this:

Vanessa Hudgens. Repeat Offender. Or how about this monstrosity:

Or Jesus Effing Christ, THIS. The ultimate hot mess of all hot messes…who just reminded me I need to write the post regarding my extreme dislike of these hideous Jeffery Campbell shoes:

It’s my humble opinion, but I even think Victoria Secret supermodels look pretty stupid exhibiting this much “Try.

Great legs though, Jesus:

I know we can’t all be natural fashion chameleons like Kate Moss, shown here at Glastonberry like she owns that shit. And I know..she fucks rock stars and sings and overall can do no fashion wrong, but still, it looks pretty natural for someone of her caliber to go from her regular clothing repertoire to straight up festival garb…unlike those idiots above who just look like they’re at an idiot parade.

I just think it would do us all some good, especially in Portland where costume is practically encouraged, and especially in summer when people do ridiculous things with their wardrobes, to remember how stupid you can look when you’re trying too hard. Coachella just happens to be my favorite example.

And while I was going to write about the threat to the integrity of the musicians when confronted with a cesspool of washed up starlets looking like a bad acid flashback, I realized I’d rather not get too serious. I’ll leave that to you and the comments section if you like. Or, you can, like me, just enjoy the asshole parade that descends on this music festival every year without fail. It’s so embarrassingly funny to me.

 

Color Me Old

You know that broad in the grocery store who’s pushing 45 but she’s still sporting the same maroon hair color that she loved when she was 25? Or the obviously ex-punk rock mom wandering through Ikea, looking for new throw pillows and rocking bright purple hair with inch long roots?

I don’t want to be that woman.

Although if I had the money, I would laser the shit out of my face and get a boob job, I’m still a fan of aging gracefully and appropriately. Much like there’s a certain point in a woman’s life when she needs to pack away her tube tops (no matter how hot she still is), there is a point when bright green hair is not as flattering as it once was.

That said….I really want fun hair again.

After spending my youth with either bright red or pink hair or a shaved head, I’ve spent the better part of the last 10 years trying to grow my hair into magical princess hair. Alas, I keep bleaching it then coloring it black again and again and again.

Not many women go from this:

To this:

In a few months.

 Now, because of all that crazy blonde and black with extensions, I had to chop it off and start fresh. And I HATE IT!!!

My gorgeous and girl crush worthy hair stylist (that saucy redhead above) talked me into a bob. It’s an adorable cut. But now I have a brown haired bob. I feel so terribly…blah.

So of course I start considering coloring it maroon.

And there I am, that cringe worthy middle aged lady at the grocery store buying the gluten free waffle mix with my beacon of unnatural red hair.

Obviously, I’m not that old yet. But as I’ve inched my way into my 30’s (32! FUCK!) I realize that while still youthful looking, no one is going to mistake me for a 24 year old anymore.

Sigh….

How does a woman still have interesting, fun hair without becoming that broad that the 18 year olds are laughing at? Can I still have light pink ends? Deep blood red hair? Shave one side?

Portland is a city that is a city bursting with a rainbow of hair color. Blue, purple, orange and even an elfy looking girls with silver dreads. This is a city that allows you to get away with a lot.

I just need to figure out what I want to try to get away with this time.

The Price of Partying

I need a makeover. Unlike SweetBird, I’ve spent the last 5 years in Portland taking advantage of the fact that it’s perfectly acceptable, and at times even encouraged, to show up to work or a nice dinner not only looking hungover, but actually feeling like you might pass out, throw up, or both.

With the exception of Hangover Hotness (It’s a strage phenomenon, does it ever happen to you? It happens to me and my sisters quite often. You somehow get your ass to work after a night of too many whiskey shots, look in the mirror, and realize, damn! I look good! I’ll try and document the next time this happens). 

So with that being the exception, lately, I typically feel totally gross, stuck in a rut, and like I could be doing way better. I’m bored and sometimes disappointed in how I put myself together these days and how it might effect how I look later in life. I like to party, what can I say? And I’m good at it. I’ve always gravitated toward things I have a natural aptitude for, and partying is top of the list. But, point is….

I want to look more like this when I get older:

Bitch is 58

And less like this:

Someone has sex with this.

Problem is, I’m pretty sure I spend more time these days partying like Keith Richards. Which is why I’m embarking on a new quest to take some preventative measures. Ultimately I just want to FEEL better. Fuck yeah I want my skin to glow. And my hair, well, if you don’t know already, I am obsessed with my hair. It’s not ok for me to hate it, but lately I do. Cause it’s looked like some variation of this for the last three years:

I’m growing it out right now best I can, but as you can imagine, this makes me throw it up in a bun every morning as I curse the mundanity of it all. (I thought I was making that word up, but true story, it’s a real word). Anyway! Point is, I feel BLAH. Here is what I am going to do to change it:

  • Start eating better. Less hangover pizza, more avodcados to give me glowing skin. Do I want to try juicing?
  • Exercise. Boo! But, I can finally yank my bike out of the corner now that it’s not raining every day. Yay!
  • Wardrobe makeover – I need to have about 80% less crap in my closet.
  • Homemade potions – screw only eating avocados, I’m going to slather them all over my face.
  • And sigh…less booze. Less partying. More sleep. Wanker. (for some reason this calls for British slang).

I’m telling you all this for two reasons: 1. to hold me accountable. Hell, you can even send me advice if you want. And 2. so I can document it all on this here blog and keep you up to date on my progress. Somehow putting it down on “paper” already has me feeling a little better and all of the above bullet points will eventually become articles or videos in some form. 

I can’t wait to see where I actually succeed and where I fail…and if someone (SweetBird) mentions booze right now I will punch them in the face…for possibly being totally right.

xoxo, Lou

I’ve lost my inner hipster, help me find her

I’M BACK!!!!

We finally moved back to fabulous, weird, rainy, snarky, hipster supreme Portland!

I couldn’t be happier about being back here. It feels like home. It’s so good to have Lou sitting in front of me, chugging tall cans of PBR and spouting off a steady stream of amazing ideas on how to make this blog more awesome.

Unfortunately, I picked up some bad habits in sunny San Diego. The biggest Portland fashion faux pas: Being too well groomed. Working in La Jolla, land of the yuppiest of yuppies, it was important for me to have unscuffed boots, blown out hair, well applied natural make-up and smartly put together outfits. I could get a little funky but it still had to look…expensive and new.

In Portland, being polished is practically a sin. My severe bob with straight bangs seems like it’s trying to hard. I need artfully mussed hair that always looks as if it’s been ground into the pillows by some fabulous, sweaty sex. Mary Kate Olsen has perfected the art of just fucked hair.I would slap a child for that hair. Hell, I’d slap five.

 My shoes all look too new. My dresses look too generic. Everything in my closet made sense when I was in SoCal but now it makes no sense at all. It’s like going to Alaska with a wardrobe better fit for Hawaii. Getting dressed every day has been so confusing that I keep pulling on the same skinny jeans and hoodie.

My daily project is putting the things I own together in different ways. I have to regain my fashion spontaneity. I need to get comfortable taking risks again. The last year has been a reasonably boring year fashion wise for me. I mean, it’s San Diego. I spent most of my days like this:

The other night we went to the art show of a friend of our’s and in spite of the fact that I was biking there, I made an effort to look cute, Portland-style. The end result was pairing grey jeans with brown boots (which for some reason was a huge faux pas down south) and throwing on a fedora that someone left at my house.

It’s a start!

Got some Portland hipster fashion advice for me? Something that normal “fashionable” people would never do? Tell me!

It’s great to be back!

xoxoxo-SB

 

We’re Back, Bitches

It’s official. Sweet Bird is nesting again in Portland. We got drunk together last night and decided we wanted to keep the blog up and running, but with both of us back in the same city now, shit needs an overhaul.

It’s safe to say you will still see the old standards in steez, style humping, etc., but you’ll also see some changes…Wine It Up video blogs anyone?

We’re also gearing up for photo shoots and brainstorming various lifestyle articles to throw into the mix.

Obviously, you can expect to see a lot of Portland-based shenanigans taking shape on our site. We’re reunited and it feels so good so I hope you’ll follow along with us as we grow this blog back into something bitchin.

xoxo,

Lou and SB

PS  – for those of you not familiar with our old site, it was born by the departure of one Sweet Bird of Mischief who left me in our fair Portland, Oregon to travel down to San Diego for a spell. In an effort to stay in touch and to ensure we still had our #1 to give the yay or nay on outfit choices, hair styles, ever-important thoughts and opinions on current trends, etc., we started this little website. It’s been on hiatus while she makes the move back to me, but now that she’s here, we’re ready to write. Stay tuned!

I love this outfit

I meant to spend my entire tax return on clothes and instead wasted it on getting day drunk and poking holes in my face. Guess my drunken stupor told me it was time to bring back the nose piercing. Anyway, had I planned better, I would have searched out the perfect booty shorts so I could tromp this summer around looking as cute as Selena Gomez does here. God damn 18 year old body with huge boobs and a tan. Guess I’m gonna have to start working out again and eating salads. Lame.

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