Wednesday, September 24, 2003

When Nerds Attack

Look out, she's pissed at having to look at her more ample sistahs.

Her homepage says "Also, this month is all about toned, not fleshy. "

Fashion police giving out tickets isn't new, it's a game we played in the playground. But this isn't about the clothes so much as the extra pound of flesh. This woman oft mentions there is a dearth of women on the techie panels and events she works. Maybe it's because they don't like her.


OK I'll admit, she hurt me and my kind and like a wounded animal I scratch back. I live in her nabe. I own a pair or two of those jeans and wear them to death potting around our hood. I am not a model or a child. I jog down the West Side Highway too, but only so that I can fit through the door. I plead that those were the only jeans on offer at Marshall's.

Yes Marshall's... in Middletown, NY no less. My secret shame. Even my beloved Salvation Armani would have more street cred. And cheap. I'm not rich and totally cheap when it comes to clothes. Anything I wear that doesn't have holes or someone else's vintage B.O. ingrained in it my mother has bought me. I live in the wrong neighborhood, I know.

So how is it that I've been one of the Fashion Police? Well, I poke fun at celebrities and try to never be mean. Celebrities who are dressed for an event, who also have enough money to do better. And well, I suppose my only defense is that I don't make fun of the clothes or the people so much as make the clothing choice seem funny.

Or maybe it's just that Karma has come back to bite me in the bootylicious ass.