Pez Dispenser

I hate Lucky Magazine, I really do. And sadly, I subscribe to it -- not through any fault of my own, but simply because I was offered a free subscription from Amazon and it was either that or Details. Actually I think I should've chosen Details, come to think of it. Anyhow, here is what I hate about Lucky:

• Irritatingly banal comments: If you're going to tell me that a skin cream has the most 'awesome scent EVER!,' then make sure you didn't tell me pretty much the same thing about a different skin cream last month, okay guys? And while we're at it, could we have some descriptive words that are a little more informative than 'awesome?'


• Shopping tips that are not for the average-sized wallet: As I recall, Lucky started out as a shopping mag geared towards the everyday gal, loaded with things you could buy at drug stores, Target, or Old Navy. These days I find that the affordable items are the rarities.


• Unimaginative style advice: This is by far my biggest complaint with Lucky. Every month I scour the pages, and every month I end up with 20 wasted minutes of my life that I'll never get back, and a bunch of needlessly-killed trees in the trash bin. Rarely do I find anything truly cutting edge, and many of the 'trends' that are featured are nothing more than a bird motif that's made its way onto a couple of pieces of jewelery and a scarf.

So why am I going on about Lucky? Because this month, wonder of wonders, I actually found something that inspired me in its pages. Actually it was just a Gap ad, which really could've been in any magazine, but I'm giving Lucky a little credit for it because this month is my last issue and I'd rather not think of the whole episode as a pointless time suck. Adding to the amazement of finding anything worthwhile in Lucky, I found it, of all places, in this horrid image:

The most awesomely hideous outfit EVER!

What are they, exactly -- lumberjacks? Beaver trappers? Because I can't think of any other reason to wear that getup, unless maybe you lost a dare. As if the high heeled hiking boots weren't bad enough, they're wearing those giant furry hats that give you a disproportionally-large head like a Pez dispenser. Gross. The boots over the socks over the jeans, however, intrigued me, because I've been looking for a way to tuck my jeans into my cropped boots without getting a lot of weird bagging or having the jeans keep popping out. And so, from the image of the Misses Grizzly Adams above, this outfit was born:

I don't even need to have a dead animal carcass stuffed in my hat to make a good outfit.

So let's see, what did I learn from this experience?
1) Jeans can be tucked into cropped boots with the help of a long pair of sturdy socks.
2) I could've found this out from a Gap billboard, so Lucky Magazine still sucks.

Shirt: Promod
Vest: A. Byer
Jeans: Joe's
Boots: Doc Martens