Written 1 February, 2008
Luv Cloud
Disclaimer:
We, Sweetie and Cheyenne (hereafter referred to as S&C) realize we have no absolute right to set sartorial standards. We are not the ultimate arbiters of what is and is not out of style. We have no desire to impress the masses, however poorly dressed they may be. So in the first of what promises to be a series of desperate apologies to dear friends we managed to offend with our IN and OUT list, this is our official disclaimer.
We have no problem with male scenery adorned in only tatoos. Some persons (whose names will not be revealed) can make the look work. It's just gotten to be a little like Drakkar Noir cologne, back in a decade not to be named.
What was once a passing scent, a titillating tug on your senses you wanted to investigate more closely soon mutated into an eye-watering, lung-burning miasma. It was the Luv Cloud of the male college freshman. No dorm-dwelling female could escape. Every boy on campus became convinced that the little black-and-red bottle was his key to the inner sanctum. Yes, they told one another, it's a thirty-four dollar and ninety-five cent investment in Paradise.
For the true originals who love their Harley, actually listen to the Beatles they say are so cool, or have managed to create a paradise to call their own-- for those who don't care a fig about what the world thinks-- S&C know without a doubt, nothing ever really goes out of style.
End of Disclaimer
As pertains to the above disclaimer, we present Exclusion 1A. If you are cavorting about in your tribal tattoos while 1) sitting in a dance bar being labored over by a girl named Tiffany; 2) typing in Chat on a one-Linden computer keyboard animation overrider; or 3) showing off that new box of freebie guns you managed to acquire, the aforementioned disclaimer does not apply to you-- except upon the condition that you are another of our friends who we just managed to offend.
Insert Company Motto Here: S&C: Because We Care
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Outtake from Collaborative Blog Writing Exercise
C: Oh, what's that word? It's like culinary, but it pertains to clothes. I can't think of it.
S: Couture?
C: No, not quite-- got it! Sartorial!
S: I know that word. It has nothing to do with clothing. And I would know, because I'm a platinum card carrying fashionista.
C: No, it's sartorial.
S: That can't be correct. I'm looking it up. Damn! I hate it when you're right.
4 comments:
Ah, Drakkar Noir. I was curious about just what decade should not be named, so I went looking for it, and found the Wikipedia article for Guy Laroche, which name itself sounds like a parody... curiously, although he died in 1989, a list of scents he supposedly created includes Horizon, from 1993?!
We don't want to give away our ages, hence the decade that shall not be named.
[looks sidelong at Baron Wulfenbach]
What about guys with construct stitches instead of tattoos?
[hides from the Vice Consul of Europa Wulfenbach]
Corgi, you mean like Boris Karloff's stitches in James Whale's original Frankenstein?
Those are actually sort of cool retro.
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