Monthly Archives: November 2010

Victoria’s Other Secret

Whenever I think back on my twenties, I clearly recall that one of the hallmarks of becoming a young woman was making the happy transition from sensible cotton bras and panties to dangerously delicious underthings made of shimmering satins replete with hooks and latches, hoochiepuckers and whatzits.

New-found access to silky delectables ranging from push-up bras, lacy panties, garter belts, bustiers, corsets, and the mysteriously-named camiknicker redefined what it meant to “wear some decent underwear in case you got hit by a truck.”  In fact, attainable lingerie was such a fresh notion that prior to the hard marketing of lingerie in the late 1970’s to the young American woman demographic, most underwear selections were relegated to the Sears & Roebuck catalog, department store alcoves, or for the very adventurous – a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog.  In 1977, things started to change when a guy that was too embarrassed to purchase frilly skivvies for his bride in a department store venue took his nest egg and used it to open a small store in San Francisco.  He thereafter expanded to catalog sales with sexy-sounding phone operators and the rest is history.

Good Bibs

Meanwhile, for a young gal that spent most of her waking hours in woolies and raingear on deck, the Victoria’s Secret collections were an added motivation to keep me working through the storms.  Nothing says “Secret” like wearing a bustier beneath your bibs.  Besides, I am a firm believer in keeping the naughty in nautical.   And as men would come and go, so did my catalogs and lingerie.  I am okay with that, because I like to update all my collections every so often.

Over the years, Victoria’s Secret has become so entirely mainstream that they are now the largest lingerie retailer in the U.S.  Additionally, they have increased their markets by incorporating supermodels and annual nationally televised fashion extravaganzas into the formula beginning in the 1990’s.  In fact, as this post goes to press, the Angels will be purring down the catwalk on prime time television to the beats of Katy Perry and Akon.  I will be writing final papers and not thinking much about my bloomers.

Boys and girls, if you are longing for a quick peek at supermodels with vejazzled vejayjays and enormous wings, check this out:



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You Can Never Be Thankful Enough

Bitch, please.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve… Yeah, you read it right.  Today is the official pre-winter version of Groundhog’s Day.  The way I understand it, if you can’t see your toes after dinner tomorrow, there should be at least six more weeks of excuses not to go to the gym.  Sounds legit to me.

Meanwhile, I have been thinking a lot about the way that my Thanksgiving Experience has evolved over the years.  For instance, prior to my dive into the deep end of academia, I frequently used to prepare multi-course dinners for friends and family.  My menus have been variously themed to fit the context of life that particular year.  The main course generally depended on which turkey man I was romantically involved with.  Some years we enjoyed the bird theme, other times it was venison or elk.  There were a few years of king crab and halibut to dovetail with the yams and green bean casserole, and even one or two holidays spent at neon truck stops or on the anchor toughing out bad weather.  In leaner times, I might hop from house to house with baked goodies and wicked libations, ever-grateful to be able to exchange pleasantries with friends and family.  To the best of my recollection, some of those moments may have been the very best of all.

Nonetheless, I am a full-time student now, and the semester is winding down, which means that time is at a premium.  I cannot, therefore, justify spending this Thanksgiving holiday by indulging in excessive eating, drinking, and football-watching when I have books to color with bright yellow highlighter, small-print scholarly articles to feign interest in, and exorbitantly long papers to compose on existential subjects that will most likely never be expressed in non-academic conversational exchanges again.

That said, I have been considering alternative Thanksgiving agendas, and here is one presentation that makes me regret I ain’t entertaining this year:

Because it is Wrong. On 6 levels.

It’s the quintessential American Dream: an effing Thanksgiving Turkey Cake with All the Trimmings.  Six layers of aesthetically questionable goodness that you can make NOW to simultaneously impress and horrify dang near everyone!  Spuds, yams, cranberry sauce, turkey, dressing… on a cake plate, bitches.  Don’t say WSW never gave ya nothing.  Here’s yer link: Thanksgiving Turkey Cake.

As for this gal, since I am “between husbands” this holiday, I aim to enjoy my turkey on the rocks – just like someone’s mom used to make.

As for you, somewhere between the eating and the sleeping and the inevitable farting and dog-blaming, I recommend that you paint some wonderful Thanksgiving memories – even if you have to deny them in the morning.  That is, after all, where the best stories come from.  I will be home all night if you need an alibi.

P.S. Regarding dessert – I am compelled to incorporate some MATH into this post because it seems like the academically correct thing to do.   Here it is, the simplest pie chart ever:

The KNEW Math, as in "I KNEW THIS"


*Thanks to CHOW for the Turkey Cake pic

* Thanks to IowaMonsterBucks for Turkey Shot

*Thanks to Yarsly for the Pie Chart pic



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