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Well it’s Monday afternoon and I’m sitting here in my pajamas still recovering from Saturday night- well actually recovering from the entire week; the entire stress-riddled, nail-biting, sleep deprived week. But the Debs was on, it was enjoyed and now its over and to be entirely honest, I’m quite relieved about that really. So as you know from a previous post, the day didn’t exactly go to plan. Well not the day exactly but everything. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.
The dress didn’t arrive, the tan turned green, the curls had disappeared after an hour, the bus was only booked the night before and the eyelashes were a joke. But in the end it all came together – just like some messed-up, drunken, Irish, happily-ever-after. So although I only bought the dress two days before, (and the shoes and bag the night before), it was all good and the stress was well worth it. The competition was ‘Fierce’. The style stakes were high and there was an incredible array of very different dresses – Grecian to print, silky to jersey, and very little to very big.
My dress, as you can see, was short – an unusual choice considering only 3 people were wearing short dresses. My original dress was a long, dusty pinkish dress but due to ‘unforeseen circumstances, [the dress] won’t arrive until late next week’. (Damn you House of Fraser and you’re blatant lack of regard for The Most Important Night of a Post-Leaving Cert) After a five minute ‘bitch-fit’ and a 3 minute cry, I ran over to Kildare Village and bought the first dress I tried on (yes, really!) from Karen Millen. A surprise choice as a) I never shop there and b) the dress was short and c) the colour was mint green – a risky decision if ever there was.
Anyway, unfortunately I am having severe writers block due to a lack of sleep (ok i did get 15 hours in total but right now, it definitely doesn’t feel like that) so the time has come to finish up. I need more pizza, more diet coke and a Jersey Shore marathon. Just a small note to Rosemary from The Great Débutante Debacle piece: If only I had listened to you sooner.
Editors Note: Jennie felt it important to share with you the reality of the Debs
Ok, so Lornas Debs is tonight. Her House of Fraser dress didn’t arrive and so emergency dress had to be purchased in record time. Emergency shoes, bag, cape and hair-piece also had to be acquired. Mc Ginn household has been on Red Alert all week. Hair has been done ala Megan Fox via Veronica Lake, although looks like there’s a little droppage action going on. New shoes are being broken-in, but that might just mean early onset blisters in advance of tonight. House is being cleaned, sandwiches are being made – it’s go, go GO people. Absolute PANIC STATIONS.Honestly, I feel like the Queen is arriving. More updates later.
(I have never heard that Father Ted quote bandied about so much as I have over the last few days…)
Now let me preface this post by saying I have nothing against the Rose of Tralee (except the fact that at 26 you’d be too old to enter it). On Monday I was listening to Sinead Gleeson on The Last Word and she raised a very valid point. The Rose of Tralee is a representation of women that you don’t usually see on TV. And it’s true. The Hills, The City, Big Brother and yes even Sex and the City… they’re all less than flattering representations of the female form. It IS refreshing to see women on TV who aren’t trying to dumb themselves down so that people like them better. It’s bloody brilliant actually.
But Christ on a bike through charity work is the Rose of Tralee twee…
I’ve been sitting here trying to decipher what my thoughts are on animal print, more specifically leopard print, and how to wear it and more importantly… rock it ! But I gotta admit it’s a tricky one. Leopard print is BIG news (again!!) for Autumn Winter 2010, and wandering around Grafton street today, its pretty much everywhere already– Zara, River Island, Topshop, H&M and BT2. Cheryl Tweedy was even papped in an uber cute babydoll leopard dress recently, there’s the nod folks – its so in right now!!!! The thing with leopard print is that its omni present across almost every season, never really going out of fashion as such and having a ‘come back’ almost every other year… I picked up a pair of leopard print Steve Madden mega high heels a few seasons ago, and my love for them never falters… Read the rest of this entry »
Eh Bouncy’s new season line is crap. We’re talking studded leggings, sharp shoulders and tattoo transfers. Guuuuuuurl we’ve seen all that before. C’mon you can afford some hip and trendy hipsters to come up with your collection. What gives?
I suppose she wants it to sell. Well it’ll do that anyway. Her frequent bending over in the ad campaign will probably take care of that.
The line is named after her maternal grandmother, Agnèz Deréon. Not to be confused with Tina and Beyonce’s label House of Deréon, this one is a Solange and Beyonce sibling affair.
But to be honest, you’d fare better shopping in Japan on Henry Street.
it shouldn’t work…the pink is loud and vulgar, the back straps suggest trailor trash, the padding doubles over as body armour and the front clip mocks all notions of irish prudism.
Conundrums, conundrums. I may or may not have a hot date tonight and I may or may not want to wear a pair of sexy heels. But what’s this? Oh no! Not a heel in sight! Only a mound of broken dreams. To clarify, it would appear that every pair of heels I own at this moment in time are variously: broken of heel, stained of suede, ripped of leather or crumbled of platform. Read the rest of this entry »
a short angry note on penneys
it was suppose to be a simple affair, an in-out job, a smooth operation. i had a plan of execution in my head…pull into penneys on the way back from the bank, grab a few pairs of gladiators and some runners and swing by the summer dresses on the way to the check-out. less ‘shopping trip’, more ‘grabbing the messages’.
Some words on trouser length, width and general acceptability. Just a suggestion. Read the rest of this entry »
Have you ever wondered what to do when you wake up in the morning looking rougher than Pat Butcher after a drunken catfight with Peggy Mitchell? You stare agog at your pasty, bloated, sleep-deprived face with 3-day old mascara and seaweed hair. Your body refuses to cooperate with traditional dressing techniques and all of a sudden, everything you own is mismatched, stained or criminally ugly. Fear not, for your survival guide is laid out below… Read the rest of this entry »