8:39AM: Recipe For Disaster

Morning Madness:

1 black pea coat (2 sizes too big so that you cannot see your arms)
1 pair of brown hiking shoes (as sturdy as they get, the stronger the better)
1 blue skirt (The ends must be completely destroyed and shredded to pieces)

Mix all together with a touch of sunlight and grogginess.

Serves: One

CAUTION: MAY CAUSE OTHERS TO JUDGE YOU

pardon my asking,

but aren't those turquoise things you are wearing underpants?

i know i'm being presumptuous, but i guess i've spent my whole life assuming that the one true, lasting law in fashion is that undies go UNDER things.

leggings, pants, skirts, dresses, jorts, bellbottoms, evening gowns. what HAVE you.

i'm beginning to feel like i don't even care anymore.

FINE.

WEAR your UNDERWEAR over your leggings

Judges You Like A Hipster, Comment Box

everyone- let's just all calm down.

we recently received a comment on one of our posts that was entirely out of line. this blog is largely a commentary on fashion. we are respectful in our posting, and make every effort not to alienate anyone on or off campus.

these comments are meant to be satirical, not mean.

it is our right to say what we are saying, if you are offended by it- don't READ it. this is a part of what makes the internet such a beautiful place.

we're not posting pictures of anyone, and we request that you have a little self respect and not post any either.

rude, tasteless, disrespectful, and just plain mean comments posted on our blog targeting anyone will deleted immediately.

thank you,

the ladies.

now, back to work.

3:16PM: Center of Campus

You thought you could get away, but I saw you.

And I judged.

Who in their right mind would wear silver leggings? Hunny, those are things that only Posh could pull off. Judging by the rest of your outfit those were not a conscious fashionable purchase. Who knew what you were thinking when you pulled green shorts over them?

Recommendations: Buy some real pants. They're much warmer. And we won't judge you for those.

Cheers!

Weekly Round-Up; The Usual Suspects

in every crime of fashion, we find time is inextricably involved.

cut-off jorts (jean shorts) originate in the late 1980s and early 1990s and don't belong anywhere else but themed dance parties and period movies. no excuses are accepted for the wearing of these bastardized jean mutants. unless, of course, one involves michael j. fox and altogether unfortunate time-travel circumstances.

suspect #1: student in dining hall on green street. cut-off jorts, ill-fitting beige leggings, hiking boots. black led-zeppelin t-shirt.

no time machine or aging 80s teen film stars in sight.

we all wore elastic-waist jeans and corduroys in elementary school. it was humiliating, yes, but we were growing children and thusly, such articles of clothing were deemed somewhat socially acceptable. we dealt with the heinous ugly of these pants by wearing sweatshirts to hide the waistband in question.

suspect #2: student in seelye hallway proudly sporting a "this is what a feminist looks like" t-shirt tucked into high-elastic-waisted acid-washed jeans tucked into rainboots.

yes, these pants DO make you look bloated, middle- aged, and miserable. would like to request that you discontinue representing feminists until you get your wardrobe under control.

6:45pm: putting away dishes

Dear girl,

Do you not know that you can't wear a vomit green floral print skirt with blue softball socks? Also, are those pink pantaloons popping their frilly ends from under your skirt? Your sweatshirt is cut up but you still have a hood. Hm. Black Nike sneaks. Klassy.

I judge you for walking outside looking like that. You had it coming.

Cheers!

5:45 PM, Dining Hall on Elm

my dear child, 

that's quite a few capes you've got there.

so, while it's still so damned cold outside, may i suggest that instead of layering useless felt capes you invest in a nice warm winter jacket (read: REAL CLOTHES)?

thank you, ma'am, and good day.

7:15 PM, Green Street Dining Hall

one, two, three, four- watch them all walk in the door.

since when have black leggings, boots, colored tunics, and sweatshirts become our national uniform?

they teach us in elementary school that ingenuity, creativity, and innovation are the hallmarks of american society.

i'd really like to know why we don't see much of that customary free thinking at this institution of higher learning.

6:15 PM, Green Street Dining Hall

"Well! Last night I made out with a homeless man. I mean, I didn't know he was homeless. I mean, he was WAY hot. I didn't realize until after that... he was dirty."

we're judging you, my child. we are SO judging you right now.

college law number one: look before you drunkenly leap.

12:08 AM, line outside house party

there are so many things i could say right now. i could comment on how that jackass you were with was wearing a jacket that was so small it legit came up to his nipples. i could give a saucy remark about how your skirt was so damned short it actually was dancing northwards of your delicate lady parts whilst you stood still. i could mention that this same jackass was actually not attractive, and you totally knew it- we could all see it in your eyes, but you wanted to get laid, and you knew you would have no better chances tonight.

but i'm not going to comment on any of that.

i just wanted to say.

in what HELL-hole of a discount shoe store for the elderly did you find those godforsaken shoes? i mean, REALLY? you tried to get laid in those orthopedic bastards? holy shit, kid. i'm surprised you found homeboy with the high waters.

for real. consider some sweet slingbacks next time, with a slender heel. stacked heels with a square toe are SO fucking unbecoming and dated. that's why some poor elderly lady abandoned them at the salvation army to BEGIN with. she probably ran away in her stockings screaming "... AND STAY OFF!"

i suggest you do the same.

Brit Brit Attack

After reading the most unfortunate article in Rolling Stone about Britney Spears (where she is surprisingly not blamed for all the shit she's done). It is my sad duty to inform the writer of that article that people MUST take responsibility for their actions. It's always nice if we can blame someone else for our own actions but Brit Brit has most definitely crossed the line between having a fucked up life and fucking up her own life.
On that note: here's to celebrating the most delicious gossip a girl could ever read in OK! or similar trashy mags.

Cheers!

EDIT: we at JYLAH are in a bit of disagreement regarding said Media Icon. Two of our esteemed editors are convinced that Ms Spears is the product of the worst of American tabloid culture, whilst the writer of this entry is clearly blaming Brit herself for the current spiral she is in. We ask that you, the readership, do some research (i.e. http://www.dlisted.com, aforementioned Rolling Stone article), and let us know what you think. There's no fun without a bit of polarization..

a compliment

i know. it's rare. WOW, i mean. a COMPLIMENT. holy shit. somebody break out the red stripe.

but in all honesty, i am a serious fan of your l.l. bean duck boots.

they're not exactly anything special or scintillating to look at, that's for sure, but they have something special. they're classic, practical, and fabulously refreshing to look at in this age of oversized hairy pink moonboots and uggs.

i congratulate you, friend, on your choice of footwear. well played, my friend. well played.

the murky depths of facebook

you have 43 photo albums, but after some extensive research (read: stalking), i've come to the conclusion that they're identical. there is NO REASON why there should be 43 albums of sporadic makeout sessions with your friends from odd angles. also, it's quite obvious that you were Under the Influence during these photo shoots, so really, only a couple pictures of you sprawled on your hallway floor are necessary.

i hate to say it, but this holds especially true because none of you are all that attractive.

reality bites, kids.

-cee

EDIT: further research has revealed that there are 57 albums, not 43. FIFTY SEVEN.

jesus h, let's all just calm down.

it's been a long time coming.

i actually feel bad saying this.

see, i've begun to think that you really believe that your hat is cool. but the time has come. i must burst this hat bubble of yours. to an extent, it is entirely understandable that you would think your hat was awesome. your hat IS one of a kind. it's one of a kind, but just not cool. or neat, or awesome, or becoming.

it's purple, it's felt, and it doesn't fit your head.

we'll work on the ill-fitting kitchen-curtain-floral eighties muumuu you wore with hiking boots and dirty socks last tuesday later.

9:52 PM, Campus Center

so, you know the statement you were trying to make with that filthy new mullet of yours?

yeah, that's the one.

no one gets it. and i do mean NO ONE. it might be a concept a bit too advanced for today's collegiate society. but i think it's more likely that maybe it's just too damn easy for us to misread as "i would be more comfortable living as a sewer rat. however, this hairstyle is the easiest alternative i could find."

buy a comb, some shampoo, and move on, kid. it's never too late to start looking human. if martha stewart can do it, you can too.

dear media monsters,

please leave michelle williams, her family, and the family of the late heath ledger alone.

there's a little word a famous singer once crooned about- "respect". use it sometimes.

there is a fine line between respectful dissemination of information and pathetically blatant greed, and it has become clear that you are not walking it well. 

6:15 PM, Dining Hall on Elm

you wear that cape, kid. you wear it with pride. you cavort about in this damn arctic climate of death practically naked in the elements and you LIKE it.

don't worry, no one's laughing.

because when you go to bed tonight with no friends and cold feet at least you can say:

"DAMN. i can't feel my toes, but i'm SO fucking glad i wore the cape today."

hey, you.

yes, you.

the blonde in the leggings and ugg boots.

that's ENOUGH. it's OVER. it's safe now. you can bring the pants out of hiding.

see? isn't this GREAT? you CAN cover your ass and keep your feet warm at the same time!

i've begun to think this is what makes the 21st century so damn awesome.

12:02 AM, Dining Hall

our world may be going to hell in a handbasket, but it's still early february. winter.

it's cold outside. i'm surprised that the two feet of snow outside wasn't a dead give-away, but there you have it. it's 34 degrees fahrenheit out there. cold enough to freeze the ass of a monkey.

this is why i suggest that you tuck your midriff safely away under your shirt, tuck your sandals back beneath your bed until spring and invest in some nice sturdy winter shoes and carry along on your merry way.

so, here's the thing

we all have those mornings where staying in bed for an extra half-hour seems like a better idea than getting up, dressed, and bathed for life. showers at times do come in a far second to fulfilling a deep need for early-morning rest.

we all have days when we must go closet-diving for our last remaining article of semi-clean clothing- which is, invariably, a conveniently forgotten shrunken t-shirt in pale-chartreuse from sophomore year of high-school. that may or may not have been purchased at wet seal with allowance money.

in any event, some mornings all of us have difficulty preparing for life. it's ok. it's a fact of life.

however, if your hair is going to be tangled and matted and greasy like that... PUT IT AWAY. hide it. put it up. they make hats, headbands, hairbows, hair clips, headscarves, hair ties, and a veritable plethora of other assorted hair accessories for precisely THIS reason.

no excuses.

sort of like skorts

skirts weren't made to wear over jeans.

so please don't wear them over jeans.

some things were meant to die in the 80s

like those glasses. if they're big enough to cover three-quarters of your face and are majorly interfering with your mullet, then they've kind of become a problem.

a huge, colored-plastic, magnifying problem ON. YOUR. FACE.

for the love of christ, consider some smaller frames.

also, the whole croakie action going on around your neck is entirely unnecessary. like, for real. i have difficulty believing that there is even the slightest possibility that you could ever lose those glasses. even if you tried. they're massive, plastic, and purple. tying them to a red cord about your neck just seems so, i don't know, redundant. useless. weird. those massive dinosaurs are going nowhere fast.

also, it might be about time to re-consider that mullet, while you're at it. you're not middle-aged, male OR driving a truck professionally so i'm pretty sure that's not the image you wish to present of yourself.

a note to the general collegiate populace

SHUT.

THE.

FUCK.

UP.

about your damn life experiences. i mean, we all have them, we just choose not to share them in the middle of class.

also, i'm relatively certain you're not the first person to have realized that this american studies course does not touch on international issues. however, i'm relatively certain that everyone else who realized that and cared didn't SIGN UP FOR IT. so quit your damn whining.