Hell Fucking Yeah

V, are you thinking what I'm thinking? We need to head back up to Santa Monica for this one.

Nylon X Missbehave?!

Okay I know that everyone kind of thinks Nylon is sucking right now and it was better five years ago. Whatev. After seeing a copy of Nylon from three years back, it doesn't look like anything's changed. But okay, maybe it's me.

Anyway, I was looking through Nylon's Street Style (I like it because the ouftits are super original and personal but I also don't like it because most of the outfits looked like they were churned out of the Nylon Trend Factory or whatever) when I saw this:


Does anyone else notice that she's wearing a Missbehave x Nails Did tee? Missb was, of course, one of the first to be up on the brilliance that is Nails Did, but I did notice a small feature about Nails Did in Nylon's last issue...so maybe they're catching on. But I'm pretty sure Nylon girls don't dig streetwear...or maybe they do. Maybe it's the new generation, the Nylon Gen X?

But can you just imagine all the Nylon girls seeing this picture and being fully confused about why the face on the tee isn't like Marilyn Monroe, Twiggy, or Karl?

God I'm bored...

Deuces,
Erika

This Just In:

I am blogging for Missbehave now. I am on the website. Did you see the sidebar? With me in it? Good, good. Everything should be in full effect by next week. I am very tired and very sad right now. I have to go to class tomorrow and should get some sleep. Will report back after work. That is all. Love ya, mean it.

Deuces,
Erika

And You'll Love What You Lose...

Today, after I got out of my Religious Studies class, things were sweet! Even though I almost fell dead asleep in that class (like always), my professor wrapped things up early and I got to get home twenty minutes before I normally do. So I made a late lunch. (I'm at school from 12:30 to 3:15 so I don't get time for a REAL lunch. Did you get that joke V? It was that Desperate Housewives of NYC thing I was telling you about. Nevermind. The joke is lame now.)

I had finished preparing myself lunch - grilled cheese and alphabet soup, the meal of champions - when the A/C kicked on. It gets pretty cold in this apt so I went to my room to get a sweater and that's where IT happened.

My roomie Melissa's friend Cindy is over. Everything in my room looks normal. I smile at Melissa. Cindy says to me, "Hey, do you mind if I read your magazine?"

Nylon? Sure. Whatevs. Cosmo? Go ahead! I'll give it to you. Elle? Eh...I guess. Under the Radar? Where did you find that? But she isn't holding any of those.

As she's asking me this very simple, easy to answer question, I see she's holding my brand new copy of Missbehave.

FFUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!

Not only does that mean she took it off my desk without even thinking to ask me, but she's just flipping through it nonchalantly like things are cool as a pool! I falter, try to tell her that magazine isn't an ordinary one...I can't put it into words, so all I say is:

"Oh...you're already holding it...Um, I guess, but be very careful with it. It only comes out four times a year and it's sort of special. And I had to go to the Promenade to get it."

She shrugs, says alright, and then Melissa asks what kind of magazine it is. I can't put that into words either. There's so much super mega ultra awesome-ness going on that I can't say it in a few succinct sentences. I mumble:

"It's like a modern women's magazine. These ladies in New York put it out four times a year." FAIL! The one time I could possibly convert a chick to the dark side/testfy! and I ruin it. So sheepishly, I put on my sweater and shuffle out into the living room so I can eat/watch some Bravo.

Cable is a godsend. Roommates are not.

Deuces,
Erika

Pants: The Antichrist

I found this in my My Documents folder. It was written a long time ago, but had never been uncovered since the original time of entry since my Microsoft Word trial period expired and I never bought the program...until now. So here you go ladies. Let's see how much you wanna wear pants now!

Oh, and on an unrelated note, I accidentally told my boyfriend that I got an offer to start blogging for Missbehave. Then tonight, while talking to him and musing that I felt like I had nothing on which to focus my energy. He said, "What about your writing on Missbehave?" Ai-ya.

Read on:

"I Hate Pants" by Erika - written 1/4/2008

For some odd reason, my place is always way too cold in the winter. Don’ t get me wrong; I’m not Sherri Shepard or anything; I know winter equals hellaciously chilly weather, especially in places like Canada and Rhode Island where it’s winter like, 24/7. Gawd…if I moved up there and opened a cute winter-wear store with like, oh, I don’t know, Bedazzled knit caps and embroidered gloves and shit, man, I would be so rich, dude…But I digress. I thought the whole point of having a place of shelter was so you could live in a climate unlike the one around you. If it’s balls hot outside you want to go inside and cool off. The same is true in the winter. If the nerdy guy on the Weather Channel says it’s like, thirty degrees (ten with the wind chill) outside, I want to be living in sweet, sweet warmth. Ha! unto those who did not purchase sufficient heating/cooling systems. Everyone knows Kenmore is a scam. I should be able to walk around like it’s the middle of flippin’ April in this bitch, not have to cover up in four or five layers of wool and cotton. That’s for those poor saps waiting at the bus stop. In keeping with the aforementioned mindset, it’s not incomprehensible that I should traipse around my house wearing a shirt and leggings. (I make compromises, though, homie. I wear a sweater and socks. Can you even imagine how hard that is for me?) Even then, I’m still past the point of freezing and when I complain about it, like I so easily and always do, my mother tells me to put on pants. Que?! I shouldn’t have to put on pants in my own house! And let it be known that I don’t wear pants not because I feel ugly or weird in them, but because I just don’t flippin’ like pants! The idea of wearing them all the time everyday is second nature to me. And not second nature in the whole “I’m an Olympic diver because swimming is second nature to me” kind of way. It’s like the “I went to Mexico and ended up with a bottle of Valium and food poisoning because Spanish is second nature to me.” Hmmm. In saying that, I feel I may have used the term “second nature” incorrectly, but screw it at this point. What I’m really trying to say, in retrospect, ain’t all that important, but to me, pants are a sign of restriction, i.e. they restrict me from enjoying the nice and casual looking “Crisscross Applesauce” sitting position. Not to mention they’re hella hard to wear sans belt. Try bending down innocently to pick up that Post-It note from the floor and realizing that the entirety of the world can see your cherry colored Thursday panties. (And oh yes, it’s a Monday.) In other words, I like to eschew pants as much as possible. Give me a figure flattering cotton shift from H & M over a pair of “raw” jeans from Cheap Monday any day. We can’t all be size twos. Thus, we cannot all wear jeans. Honestly, this point is becoming more and more moot the longer I bitch about it, so I shall leave you with this pro-anti-jean slogan: Jeans are for losers. (Alright, so I’m not a slogan machine.)

Deuces,
Erika

New Missbehave!

Holla! Just caught a glimpse of the new issue of Missbehave on the website! Sry I don't have a picture so here's a link if you don't find yourself checking the blog every five minutes like I do. I'm overstoked for this shit! And Santogold's on the cover? Like, what, motherfucker?! That's awesome! You know, I was told I looked like Santogold once. Erm...yeah, I think it still counts if it was just an anonymous comment on my blog...erm...So anyway, this issue looks like nothing but pure hotness! Very excited! Now I just have to find a Barnes and Noble in the Valley...

Anyone else super ultra mega excited?!

Girls Aloud!

You wanna know something funny? I almost went to ATL's Girls Rock Camp back in July. But I was afraid I had too much experience on the drums.

When I go to Barnes and Noble, it's usually for just one of two things: to buy a new novel that'll help me forget how much I hate my life, or for a new issue of Missbehave or Preen. (BTW, if you've never read Preen, pick it up! It won't put you to sleep like i-D and the glossies are as cool as Visionaire. Yeah I'm cultured, what of it?)

Anyway, sometimes there are off days and I don't find anything that I'm looking for. But I have to buy something. It takes so much effort for me to walk to BnN that I never allow a trip to be in vain. So I made the mistake of picking up the new ish of Seventeen. First of all, it was hard enough for me to pay for it when Miley Cyrus was cheesing back at me on the cover. Secondly, it hurt me physically to read it.

Having been seventeen not too long ago, I can honestly say these kinds of "issues affecting teens today" were shit I was dealing with back when I was 14. "Perfect party ready makeup"? "Kissing 101"? "How to make him notice you in study hall"? What??? Maybe I would have really pored through these pages when I was in middle school, but they've become drastically irrelevant to today's young women.

Thank god for Missbehave, but I feel like there should be something more. MissB is for street savvy badass women who can hold down a 9 to 5, keep their boyfriend satisfied, cut a bitch at the bar, hit up the online sales at Karmaloop, and still have enough money to pay the rent on the 15th and buy their girls a round of drinks on Friday.

While that is (for the most part) me, there's like a void, a lost niche for a magazine that appeals to the broke-ass, socially awkward, incredibly smart, fashion forward, obsessive, compulsive 18-22 set. I'm thinking of starting a revolution. I'm thinking of starting a 'zine.

Who's with me?

Deuces,
Erika

Boys Who Like Girls Who Like Girls Who Like Boys

Yesterday I was in the car with my boyfriend. He started talking to me hypothetically about what would happen if he moved to San Fran after I moved to LA. I listened. I also interrupted a few times to interject the necessary sarcastic comments.

By the end of his hypothesizing, he asked me, "So if I had a box of stuff from my ex, would you make me throw it out or let me keep it?"

I said, "Whoa! You got that off Missbehave!" I pointed a finger dramatically for effect.

Bashfully he replied, "What? No I didn't. I'm just asking."

I persisted, "Yes you did! I can't believe you read Missbehave!"

Finally he said, "Yeah. I read your comment and wanted to see what you would say."

He's reading my comments? He's just a hop, skip, and a jump away from my blog! Boys are crazy!

I just threatened to kill him and then we called it a day.

Deuces,
Erika

Guesting: Missbehave and Me

So I, like all of you fellow readers most likely, am an unabashed Missbehave addict. No, really, I mean it-- addict. Some people collect bugs or postcards or other weird stuff (okay, so I kinda collect postcards too, whatevz), but I collect Missbehave memorabilia. I have both of the shirts (but only one came free-- the Hellz Bellz shirt I bought off Karmaloop with some Xmas dough; they never sent me one for the nice gift I sent them, but forgive and forget, I say), and every issue... except for one. The pesky one that got away: Issue #3, the Bijou Phillips cover.
I remember seeing this issue on newsstands at Barnes & Noble. My sister and I were running errands early last year and I spotted it. I picked it up and read a little, kind of intimidated at first. I asked my sister, "Allie, should I get this?" She was all, "It sounds kinda slutty." I guess I didn't want to feel like a mag-slut or something, so, like an idiot, I put it down.
I would soon discover how wrong I was. I got my hands on Issue #4 with one of my favorite ladies, Mena Suvari, and I realized that this was the very, very first time I'd read every word of any magazine. Ever. I was hooked. A subscription was obtained, I kinda weedled #1 and #2 from Samantha over e-mail, and the rest was history.
But #3 eluded me. I was pretty sure Samantha didn't like me and I didn't want to ask for another free magazine. I told myself I would save it for college when I had a different address and make the request in a name that was different. I've been desperate, you see?
But a week ago, this changed. It was listed on eBay. I was praying there'd be a Buy It Now option, but alas, there was none. Today the auction ended. I was in an Internet fight with some guy (regardless of gender).
And we battled. This is how it felt.

It was an hour-long battle. But who came out strong?! That's right, ME!!

And I'm only... um... say... (don't judge, I was in it to win it) $50 broker?

Yes. I, "Sun Protection Factor" (initials, not comfortable with revealing my last name over a wireless connection, but just know that through my name, I'm pretty much human sunscreen), paid half a Benjamin for the final piece in my Missbehave collection. I kinda feel like a bad person. But at the same time... redeemed. With some guilt.

A late summer job is in store, that's for sure. So I'm forced to return to eBay with designer clothes I bought for $3 (flipping is the secret to everything), a little more broke, but gratified and happy that my collection is finally complete.

LIVE TO WIN!!

Y Sarah

OMG OMG OMG

So I got my mail today and what did I find in the box...?

The Missbehave x Nails Did collab shirt!

If you don't remember, Missbehave was giving these babies out for free, with just one string attached: send them a mixtape.

Well I did, and mine was weekend themed so it had "Ignition" by R. Kelly, "Friday I'm In Love" by the Cure, "Friday Night" by Lily Allen, and even a Flight of the Conchords song. So it was pretty much bangin'. Did you guys send one in?

Anyway, I tore open the package and put my shirt on right then and there. Oh Christ...this thing is super comfy and long enough for me to just wear with some leggings...it's perfect. I'm so happy!

Did anyone else get one?

Deuces,
Erika

Party At Missbehave's House!

Dude, if you don't know about this hella fun ish by now, you are hopeless. Missbehave is throwing a sick pool party over at Union Pool. Where is that? Uh, somewhere in NY, obvi. How dare you ask such a stupid question! Anyway, there will be free tacos (epic) and $2 beer, which you really can't get so cheap anywhere nowadays, unless you harass the guy who's running the bar and tell him he can plow you for PBR. I won't be there, even though Sarah Morrison asked to fly me in....but you should!

Plus there will be fun, dancing, giveaways from Nikita, a chance to stalk Sarah Morrison in real life, and maybe your chance to find some summer love!

Union Pool
484 Union Ave at Meeker
Williamsburg Brooklyn
Take the L Train to Lorimer
The Union Pool is 21+ only! Damnit!
RSVP here!

So go forth and have tons of fun, and then totz blog about it so I can remember how little fun I have in Atlanta!

Um, Space Filler

Today is a slow day. Tonight is looking pretty fun. There's Fuck Yesss in ATL, LOSER in NYC, and, ummm, there's always something going down somewhere in LA. It's worth just walking up and down Hollywood and stumbling upon something.

But today? Today is slow. The internet is slow. As Sarah says, "I am trying and I am failing." There is a Twilight Zone marathon on SciFi all day today. But as I don't have anything cool to share, I'll just tell you some mildly funny shit.

I have this thing I like to do with my boyfriend and it's vaguely awesome. I get really close to him and start rubbing him and nuzzling my face into his neck and whispering in his ear, all Karmaloop style. It makes him kinda uncomfy, so I do it a lot. He thinks he can faze me by doing equally weird nonsense, but it doesn't work. Once, we were watching TV and he remarked that he liked fingerless gloves. I whispered, "I like fingerless gloves...and fingering gloves!" Y'know, so just shit like that. Everything sounds sexier in whisper form, so I say ordinary things like, "Is that a new shirt?" or "Is dinner ready?" or "Hey that comedian on Last Comic Standing isn't funny." Imagine said ish in whisper form. If you ever need to break the silence with your bf, I advise doing that, 'cos their reaction is hella funny.

Okay, that's it. And that wacky breastfeeding lady was on the Tyra Show today. Alright. I'm out.

Deuces,
Erika

Sarah Morrison Can Be On Your Blog

Well, not physically, obvi. But you can have a random snapshot of her that was taken at the Ed Banger Party at Cinespace. Ohai and you can have this girl from the same party. Where can you have these fab photos, you ask? On your blog layout! I was randomly looking through the millions of AWEsome Asian-made templates when I found this one:


It's called "A Party Girl's Life" and it was made by this chick in Holland. So it just goes to show that somewhere, sometime, someone is doing something involving Sarah Morrison. Shit. She can get some distance, can't she?

Great. Like ALLLLWAAAYZZZZ!!!

I finally got the new issue of Missbehave today. So I don't seem like some sloth-ass creature who hibernates during the daytime in her room/cave and survives off KoolAid, microwaveable mac & cheese, and weird grape soda/cereal combos, I have ventured from my homely surroundings into the nasty bright lights and dirty sandy sidewalks of the city of Atlanta before to seek out this elusive compilation of gloss and glitz. But the Caroline St. Barnes and Noble just NOW got it in.

So I made a beeline for it, bought it, and walked back to my car, which was parked at Criminal Records so I would have to actually walk places and be mobile appendage-wise instead of the WAY more comfy motor-wise.

While I was punishing my loins for being fat harvesters, I started to read my copy of Missbehave. Granted, it took me about ten minutes to read the Editor's Letter because walking/reading/not tripping over the many cracks in the sidewalk was a bit tricky, but I did read to page 17 before concentrating on the street ahead of me. So, yeah. Woo.

And might I just add that reading/walking with your head down definitely makes it easy to breeze past dudes that wanna holla at you. This one guy was trying to (and failing to) spit game at me from the PASSENGER'S SIDE of a car ("No Scrubs" anyone??) but I was pretty much giving him the Frigidaire so I guess he got frustrated and finally shouted:

"You got on ugly ass shoes though!"

I laughed all the way to my car. I was wearing my pink sneakers from Urban Outfitters. They are relatively clean, for the things I get into on a daily basis, and the laces are tied. I couldn't see what ish this guy had with my shoes. If I were any other girl with lower self esteem, I might be upset or sad. But I don't sit in a passenger's seat, so we'll see who wins out in the end, bitch.

I guess there was/is some crazy biker fun time thing going down over near the Vortex 'cos the back entrance to the parking lot behind the Tower Spirits was closed and I had to walk the long way, which meant I had to walk by the creepy/ill biker men and got hit on once again, by dudes that could have totally been my illegit dad in a heartbeat. Ugh. Bleh.

Finally, I got to my car and then tried to read my Missbehave a lil more, but it was a failed attempt because it was way too hot outside to just sit in an idling car with the windows down. That whole thing is ineffective when there is no breeze. So I drove off and almost hit a too-cool-for-school hipster couple. Atlanta is chock full of those.

So I went home and then FINALLY got to sit down and read my Missbehave. It was great. As always. It was a long, laborious process, but at least I didn't have to pretend to be happy and excited. It was like genuine sex.

No faking involved.

Deuces,
Erika

Magazines And Me

I like to collage. Why? Gawd, you ask sooo many questions! Well because I like to put things together in a creative way and I like being able to use random shots and words to form something meaningful. And because I can draw fairly decently, but I can collage circles around my art friends.

So as I was rounding up a few magazines to get a start on my new collage (old Nylons, double issues of Teen Vogue, a few Cosmos, but I never touch the Missbehaves because they come out quarterly and are therefore a hot commodity), I got to thinking about how I felt about magazines.

I love them. I love how for some they can be 290 page bibles, filled with glossy pages of mantras, wisdom, and life advice, but for some they can be a way to get through the day. When I was in school, I read the same issue of Nylon over and over and over again, just to combat the boredom. I can almost dictate that issue to you now.

Some people buy magazines for the articles, and some people buy them for the cover model (how I impulsively bought ElleGirl for the Adam Brody cover), and some people buy them purely based on the faith that it, based on what it says on the cover, will have all the things they want to read about.

It amazes me how a group of people can fit hours of conversation about fashion, culture, music, or food neatly into 100 pages. Certain articles can change people's lives, cause an epiphany, make your sex life better, update your wardrobe, or help someone lose 20 pounds. People live for magazines, people die for magazines. Editors-In-Chief of magazines are like celebrities. Anna Wintour, Amy Astley, Mary HK Choi, and Marvin Scott Jarrett can transform the masthead into a calling card of all-knowers of pop culture and style.

And I love zines. I love the idea of people turning to an organic creative outlet to voice their beliefs and opinions instead of just logging into Blogger and typing it out for people to randomly stumble upon.

In fact, I used to have a zine. I became antsy after endlessly pouring over my Nylons and Missbehaves and dreaming of writing for one, one day. So I made one of my own. It was called White Rice Magazine, and it was 2 only pages long because I made it on Microsoft Word, which is the only computer program I've mastered save for Powerpoint, but I wrote every article in it happily. It covered new music, fashion trends, upcoming Atlanta shows, recommended reading and a rant about whatever retarded celebrity was being retarded. It even included a current events story. It was published every 2 weeks. I distributed it to three of my friends and my mother and I was soooo proud of it.

I guess I have waxed poetic about magazines long enough, but I truly do love them. I even wrote a little love letter to a certain AWEsome mag awhile back. Now I almost buy them just to collect them. I have two years of Seventeen, two years of Teen Vogue, a year of Nylon, all the Missbehaves except for the first issue, a year of Under the Radar, assorted issues of Cosmopolitan, CosmoGirl, Jane, Entertainment Weekly, and even a year of issues from Dog Fancy back when my mom let me buy a magazine subscription in middle school.

So I'm done. The end. I sort of want to start writing White Rice again; I'd kind of just let it go, but I suppose I might when I get to the Valley and have people to distribute it to. Kthxbai.

“All "little" magazines have the luxury of thinking the reader is the same person as their editors.”

---William Whitworth

Deuces,
Erika

I'm On Missbehave!

In the worst way. In a time of desperation in my life, I hit Rika up to see if she could proffer any advice on how to fix my nail sitch. They looked fug-tastic as a result of me trying to do the leopard print nails previously featured. I thought, "hmmmm...neon colors, good, good." So I asked Rika what to do on the subject since she is a nail mastah!

But then she put my email up on Missbehave, along with the pic of my less than enviable nails. She did answer my question, though, and I really appresh it.

But anyone who makes fun of my nails or says something mean about me will die. I can fully get my cousins on you. They like to scrap.

Kthxbai.

Deuces,
Erika