Frugal Fashion Finds

When I was little, I loved to watch 'Star Search.' My favorite part was the supermodel showcase. I would turn to my mom and say, "I'm going to be a modeler when I grow up."

Yeah, that dream crashed and burned.

Problem #1: I'm 5'4"
Problem #2: I like to eat. A lot.
Problem #3: I don't like cigarettes or cocaine.

By the time I started high school, I had a new career in mind: fashion writer. I love fashion, I enjoy writing - why not merge the two?

Seemed like a perfectly realistic goal, until I realized the following:

Problem #1: I don't want to move to NYC.
Problem #2: I don't want to work for Anna Wintour.
Problem #3: Magazines aren't really hiring right now.

But then I got to thinking: Just because I have some cards stacked against me, doesn't mean I can't write about fashion on my own terms. After all, 'fashionably' is in the title of my blog.

So, each Friday, I will post my favorite fashion finds of the week. And the best part: they will all be under $100. I rarely spend more than that on an article of clothing, and I don't think many women my age do either. There's nothing I hate more than flipping through InStyle and falling in love with a pair of shoes only to look at the price and see that they cost more than my rent.

This week, as summer slips further away and fall descends upon us, I decided to post items from both seasons.

I love shopping at the end of the season. It's the perfect opportunity to stock up on essentials and pay next to nothing. I've been looking for a beach bag all summer and stumbled upon this straw tote from Anthropologie. It's only $9.95! And guaranteed, this will not be out of style next year.

Anthropologie Sea Geology Tote

This tank is a great transition piece. It comes in purple (shown below), blue and black. I'm still not sold on the price tag, but I love it so much I may just have to splurge.

Anthropologie Twisted Tank

As soon as these babies are under $60, they are MINE. So versatile-I'd wear them to work or out for drinks (as long as I knew I was staying in one place for the night. Can't be walking 10 miles in 4" heels.) Available in twelve different prints/colors and in suede, leather, synthetic or faux fur.

Nine West Bonfire Peep Toe Pumps

I absolutely adore the color of this coat - it's the perfect shade for fall and would jazz up any outfit. I have a jacket from GAP in the same material and it is so warm and comfortable. Bonus: it's on sale! (The word "sale" is my kryptonite if you haven't noticed.)

GAP Moleskin Coat

Working in D.C., I see way more navy blue and black than any person ever should. Why do people feel the need to dress stuffy, drab and boring just because you're going to work? I find that if I'm wearing a fun outfit, my energy is more positive. Sure, going to work is depressing, but you shouldn't take it out on your clothes. This skirt is out of the ordinary and still office- appropriate.

Forever 21 Abstract Printed Skirt

Apparently leather biker jackets are all the rage this fall. I found a cute one on sale in the Nordstrom BP department. (The only area of that fashion utopia I can afford.)

LuLu and Veronica Faux Leather Biker Jacket

How hot are these pumps? I love the color (gunmetal). They give off a biker chic vibe.

GUESS 'Carrie' Leather Pump

If I ever reach baller status, I WILL own this bag:

Rebecca Minkoff Morning After

Until then, this little guy will do.

Forever 21 Faux Croc Tote

Random Humpday Fun

It's humpday and my eyes are glazing over from nothing to do at work.

Luckily, my dearest friend, Queen, sent me an e-mail full of random thoughts to keep me entertained. It was basically a list of things you've thought to yourself a hundred times but never dare admit to anyone else.

Below, is a smattering of my faves (with my own commentary, of course.) Enjoy!

I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.
Especially to avoid areas like SE D.C. Thank god the Nats stadium finally moved.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
This happened to me last night when I got into a debate with The Hoff and his roommate about when Big Ben was drafted and won his first Superbowl. They just got iPhones and put me in my place with confirmed facts from Wikipedia. I HATE being wrong!

I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?
Amen.

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
Story of my life. Anyone know how to do this discretely?

I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
Why the f didn't I take advantage of nap time in Kindergarten?!

Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.
Kids today, I swear.

There is a great need for sarcasm font.
::sarcasm:: or note the sarcasm just don't cut it

Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the hell was going on when I first saw it.
That would be "Dirty Dancing" for me. Totally didn't realize she got an sma-smortion.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
And keep them wrinkle-free? It sucks waking up with a gazillion sleep lines in the morning.

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
Who cares if you get indents in your arms that hurt like crazy and you have to waddle to keep from tipping over because one side is always heavier than the other?

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.
Or put on make-up, pluck my eyebrows, find the pen I just dropped so I can write down an address. Yeah, I'm that annoying/unsafe person who multi-tasks while driving.

It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.
Don't they know most people can't have sound on at work?

Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.
I'm convinced teachers have some conspiracy going on to fuck with students when they're already experiencing peak stress levels.

I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!
Can this please happen in D.C. more often? Let's start a club!

Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...'Goonies'"
I work in a call center. This happens to me at least 15 times a day. And I'm totally going to start using movie titles or celebrities instead of fruits or common names. What's the fun in that?

It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.
Seriously, I don't think anyone goes there who is experiencing a planned pregnancy.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren’t watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'
Precisely why I always avoid sitting next to the remote.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.
No commentary necessary. This is just hilarious.

Why does the entire right side of my body hurt?

Because I'm a drunk asshole, that's why.

Let me explain.

This weekend, I experienced the shitshow that is Dewey Beach. I've heard DC-ers and NOVA-ites rave about this place for three years now, and I figured I needed to see what all the fuss was about.

The Hoff and I decided to take a trip with his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend. I found us a hotel that ended up being in prime drinking location (i.e no more than 4 blocks from the all the good bars.)

Friday night was normal enough. I was in that happy-drunk state where everything is right in the world.

But Saturday was a different story. I was pissed to begin with because the Steelers lost (I know it was only preseason football, but I still hate when they lose).

Then, two sleazy d-bags decided it would be a good idea to grab my ass. Side note: I'm often told I have a ghetto booty, and have been blessed with such nicknames as 'junk in the trunk' and 'bootylicious,' so I've grown accustomed to the attention my ass attracts.

That being said, I do not appreciate random dudes grabbing my goods. You have to be inducted into the super-exclusive Miss Procras. ass-grabbing club to have that honor bestowed upon you.

Problem #2 is I've never been that good at sticking up for myself. (I usually have Lo around to do that for me.) My rebuttal (no pun intended) to being assaulted? Throw ice fat one of the guys from five feet away. Yeah, I'm bad ass.

I decided that after the bar, some good ol'fashion drunk food was in order. But by the time The Hoff and I got our pizza, I felt sick and asked if we could go back to our room.

This is where things get really, really fuzzy.

I ate a slice and a half of pizza, then kept mumbling over and over that I didn't feel well. The Hoff escorted me to the bathroom and held my hair back while I vomitandoed a few times.

Next thing I knew, I woke up wondering why the hell the right side of my body ached so much and realized I was passed out on the floor of the bathroom. Apparently, I refused to move after my vom sesh, so The Hoff gave up and brought me a pillow and blanket so I could slumber peacefully on the cold, hard, germ-infested floor.

My side is still in pain.

Oddly enough, that was the first time I passed out on a bathroom floor. Picnic tables, stages and underneath tables are usually more my style.

I really need to find more comfortable places to lay my head when wasted - or just don bubble wrap before I go out drinking.

Miss Procras. and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad WEEK

Remember this book? I hadn't thought about it in years until I started brainstorming fun titles for today's post.

Mucho apologies for being MIA the past few days. I was so proud of myself for posting 4 times last week and thought-I've turned over a new leaf! I'll post more than once a week now! Yay me! Yeah, last week was clearly just a fluke.

But it's been a shit-tastic week. Let me explain-

Tuesday and Wednesday I was sick with a UTI. No matter how much cranberry juice I drink or how often I pee after doing the deed, I get these at least 5 times a year. F my life.

Then, today, I returned to work and was almost immediately greeted with a request to meet my supervisor in the conference room for a chat. (Just to refresh your memory, I was called into the conference room nine days ago because my dress shorts weren't considered office appropriate. This coming from a woman wearing a muumuu. But that's neither here nor there.)

Anyway, I sorta flipped my shit. I've been on my breaking point for weeks and this jolted me over the edge. I ran outside and called The Hoff to tell him I was going to quit. Luckily, he was in a more rational frame of mind and pointed out that a) I had yet to line up a new job and b) if I quit, I would have no health insurance.

I hate to admit it, but he raised two very legitimate points.

So, I went to the meeting, still pissed as hell, but not quite as gung-ho on giving my notice.

After being lectured for ten minutes, I was handed a memo. (To give you a synopsis of the memo, it basically stated that they are unhappy with my performance and attendance. You see, at the lovely company in which I'm employed, you have to accrue your sick days. That's right, ACCRUE. I would like to get my hands on the genius who thought of that. And since I didn't have enough PTO to cover my two sick days this week, they were not happy.)

Anyway, I wouldn't really consider a memo being an acceptable form of written communication regarding work performance, but what do I know. I read over it, found at least 20 typo-s, spelling and grammatical errors and was then asked if I had any questions or comments.

"Why yes, madame supervisor, yes I do. I'm not sure if you're aware, but you no longer need to add two spaces in between sentences. Also, the phrases 'becoming to the point' and 'more than often' are very stylistically awkward. Lastly, you may want to enroll in a basic grammar course to review comma usage."

No, I didn't really say that, but I wish I had.

Instead, I replied that I thought it would be best for both me and the company if I sought employment elsewhere. Considering the anxiety and stress from this job are what's affecting my health, it would benefit both parties for me to go on my merry way.

So, now the cat's outta the bag. No, I didn't give my official resignation, but they know I'm outta here on the first direct flight (read: job offer).

Btw, I know this topic is getting tired, so I'm retiring the rants regarding work. Hopefully my next job-related post will be to inform you that I got a new one!

The Donald is going to appear and yell "You're Fired!" any minute now

This week has been an interesting week at work. And not in a good way.

Yes, I was late every day, but that's standard. (Today I was only 9 minutes late, which I gave myself major kudos for.)

Tuesday, I wore a new pair of dress shorts I purchased from Banana last weekend. (They were this style, but tan.) I bought them specifically for work, and paired them with peep-toe brown heels and a dressy brown top. I couldn't wait to wear a fun, new outfit.

Around 11 a.m., I got an IM (yes, we use Instant Messenger at work-annoying as hell) from one of my supervisors that said, "Hi Miss Procras., may I speak to you in the conference room for a minute please?"

I knew this little chat was not going to go well. It's akin to being sent to the principal's office in elementary school. I could just hear the childhood taunts of "ooooooohhhhh! Miss Procras. is in troooooooouuuuuble!!"as I walked to the conference room.

Turns out, our little meeting was about my new shorts. Apparently they don't adhere to the company's dress code. Even though I've been wearing a gray and black pair all summer and even though another co-worker had on a pair last week (to which, my manager replied, that there is no rhyme or reason for who gets singled out.)

Now, I would have no problem with this policy if it were consistent. I would also have no problem if the dress code was more clearly outlined. When I first started, the dress code stated we could wear jeans on Friday. So, I wore jeans on my first Friday, then got a friendly IM that day stating our department does not allow jeans.

Does anyone else see a problem with this besides me? Why the F-ity F would you say something is okay to wear if it's not?! And why, if you're going to be anal, would you not be as specific as possible?! Especially since there are so many clothing options for women!

I was livid. I try really hard to project a professional, polished image at work. It's not like I go around, cleavage exposed, ass hanging out.

So I vented to The Hoff and my mom during my lunch break and drank a few cosmos after work. Cosmos cure all.

Then, on Thursday, The Hoff had a meeting he needed to leave for by 9 - the same time I needed to leave. I woke up, looked at the clock, and was horrified to see 9:45 flashing in front of me.

I rubbed my eyes. The time didn't change.
Thought maybe I had my days wrong and maybe it was actually Saturday. Pondered for a few seconds, and realized, unfortunately, it was Thursday. The Hoff had 15 minutes to get to Woodbridge while I was already 15 minutes late.

Panic set it.

As calmly as I could, I woke up The Hoff. I've never seen anyone fly out of bed as fast as he did. I've also never heard anyone curse that much. (Must be the Bahston in him.)

Honestly, neither of us can even remember the alarm going off. Definitely interesting explaining that one to the boss.

At this point, I'm so over my job I just don't care anymore. I keep telling myself to suck it up so I can continue paying my bills until I find something that actually falls in line with my career goals.

For my sanity's sake, I really hope that's sooner rather than later. (And before the Trumpster shows up.)

Thank the sweet baby Jesus it's Friday. Time to detox from work and intox (I know that's not a real word, but it should be) on alcohol!

Botox Is a Blog's Best Friend

As you can tell, my blog had some work done. The old blog was looking tired, worn and outdated. This new and improved one looks fun, fresh and full of life.

Note the sarcasm.

I have all these great design ideas for my blog. I just have no clue how to go about bringing them to fruition.

Clicking the "customize" tab, sorting through templates and playing with color schemes is about the extent of my design skills. I've used InDesign, Illustrator, Photoshop and Dreamweaver before. I just lack both the patience and the talent to create projects I'd allow anyone to see.

So, my poor blog will be confined to blogger templates until I either a) miraculously wake up one morning an Adobe Creative Suite genius or b) pay someone to design my blog for me.

Sorry, blog, momma can only give you a mini-botox injection right now. Don't you worry, though you'll be nipped, tucked and wrinkle-free soon enough.

In other news, I came across this article today and have never been more disturbed/appalled/grossed out/other horrid adjectives.

I work for a breastfeeding helpline, and I'm all for a woman breastfeeding her baby if that's what she wants to do. By why do 5-year-old girls need to be learning how to breastfeed on their yet-to-be-developed bodies? There is something seriously wrong with that picture. Thoughts?

PS-Check out Just Jack's blog today for a guest post by yours truly.

Bermuda (aka Paradise)

I didn’t realize this post would be so depressing to write. Maybe it’s because instead of being surrounded by crystal blue water and foreign waiters who bring you drinks on demand, I’m drinking hot chocolate to try and stay warm in my sub-zero degree office and squinting from the blinding flourescent light. Why, oh why, can’t I be by a window so I can watch the squirrels play? (Quick! Name that movie.)

Anyway, here's a smattering of pics from the trip. We were at Bermuda during their 400th anniversary celebration and the annual cricket tournament (basically their version of the World Cup.) Kinda cool, except that the bars close wayyy early those days. Maybe because they serve FREE beer at the cricket match.

Approaching Bermuda. See that small opening between the two pieces of land ahead? Yeah, the cruise ship had to fit through that. (That's what she said...)

Right after arriving in St. George, Bermuda. That's the cruise ship in the background.

Walking around the town of St. George, where our boat docked the first day. Virtually no clouds in the sky, but there was still a rainbow.

I went on the cruise with my parents, little brother, and some family friends who have a daughter my age and a son my bro's age. Luckily, the "parents" wanted to drink just as much as we did. I found this sign at the first bar we went to. Note that Michael Douglas made the list, along with other fine citizens such as "White Rat" and "Sambuca." I'm sure Catherine Zeta-Jones is thrilled...
They have Michael Jackson-themed snow cones! Of course, I had to try one out. I got the "Beat It" flavor, which consisted of strawberry, blackberry and gingerbeer. AMAZING!!

Day 2 in Bermuda-Horseshoe Bay. By far the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. The sand is pink (I ended up getting a handmade pendant that holds some of the sand) and the water is so clear it's like being in a swimming pool. You also get to see really pretty fish swim right past you.

More of Horseshoe Bay. They had these really tall, rocky cliffs surrounding the water. I decided to climb to the top for some photo opps. Kinda hard to see, but on the a ledge of the rocks below, some guys were jumping off into the water. I'm definitely not brave/crazy enough to try that stunt-I kinda wanted to live to see more of Bermuda.

Martini bar we stopped at after a day on the beach. I got a yummy blue raspberry concoction.

The cruise ship had an on-board art auction that I only went to because they were promising free champagne. Unfortunately, I never got my champagne, but I did stumble upon the best football jersey EVER. If only I had a spare $1100, this baby would be MINE.

Ranting Sesh, Version 1

Part of dating The Hoff means watching Red Sox games. Any and all that are televised here in our nation's capital. (The Hoff claims this is hardly any, but I beg to differ.)

I've come to accept this trait of The Hoff. As a loving, caring girlfriend, I know to only call him during commercials if I'm not with him when his team is playing.

And I have to admit, I've found myself cheering for ol' Beantown. Especially when they play the Yankees.

In fact, I don't think I detest any sports team more than I do the Yanks.

Johnny Damon: Yuck (Way to lie about never leaving Boston and then going to their arch nemesis for a measley $4 million pay increase. Whatever-don't need you anyway.)
Derek Jeter: Gag me (Dated Mariah Carey, 'nuff said.)
A-Rod: Sorry excuse for a human being. (Kate Hudson, please stop hanging out with such a loser. You seem wayyyy to cool for him.)

In comparison:
Pedroia: MVP (what, what)
Youkalis: That guy just looks like he could kick ass and take names.
Ellsbury: HOTT
Ortiz: Love when he's at bat and spits on his gloves then slaps his hands together. Cracks me up for some reason. (Hey, I have to find something to entertain me.)

My heart broke a little this weekend when I had to watch the Sox lose. I think I got more angry than The Hoff watching those bastards gloat. I even hid my face under the covers when A-Rod was up to bat. I refuse to waste minutes of my life watching that d-bag.

I'm still a little heated from last night if you can't tell.

I apologize if any of my readers are Yankees fans. I still love you, I just don't like your team. :)

Tonight, I'm FINALLY posting pics and a recap of my Bermuda vacay.

Miss Procras.: A Recap

I'm still in vacation mode. I have yet to unpack, do laundry or anything else one should be doing upon returning from a trip. But we all know I'm not one to follow those sorts of norms.

What really sucks is trying to break vacation mode at work when you have two huge deadlines looming. Don't my bosses know I need to catch up on blogs, celebrity gossip and what happened in the rest of the world while I was in Bermuda?! I mean, I missed the Saved by the Bell reunion for crying out loud!

Since I'm a little slammed at the moment, I asked Just Jack if he would do a guest post for me. He graciously obliged (thanks, Lovie!), and decided to provide you all with a little insight into our relationship.

Hello Fellow Miss Procras. Followers!

For those that don't know who I am, you can call me Just Jack. I've been asked to appear as a Guest Blogger. I, of course, was flattered but not surprised. I mean, I am fabulous and whatever I say tends to be golden...even if it is making fun of your outift!

You can catch me regularly on my own blog Kiss It! Spank It! Tranny! Shameless plug, I know, but word of mouth advertising is always the most effective, even when most of the time the words coming out of your mouth warrant a bronzer compact flung at your face ;)

Anywho, back to the real topic of today's post: Miss Procras. herself. I've had many memories created from my long-time friendship with the slut and I wouldn't trade it in for anything. We've become rather close over the past year, I think, and its made seeing her all the better.

But in order to understand what we are now, you'll need to understand what were back then. And, for that, let me start at the beginning.

The first time I met Miss P was at her and her roommates' Pink Party. I did not own anything pink, at the time...shocking...but you had to wear pink in order to enter the party slash get a drink. I purchased a pink Aeropostale polo (looking back in hindsight...ew) and headed over that evening to their apartment. I knew their roommate at the time and no one else really. I had met Miss P briefly before the party as we were both orientation guides that summer. Let's just say that we ended up finding each other at the party and proceeded to make fun of people and their disgusting outfits for the rest of the evening. Can we say kismet?

After that I began regularly hanging out at the apartment and became very close with their other roommate, Lo (as Miss Procras refers to her on this blog). I was soon inducted as honorary roommate (the fourth one was a total twat who owned a small dog that warranted nothing except the urge to throw it off the balcony). At that time I also became a member of the Pink Penthouse tribe, which will live in infamy in the form of a small wooden chair painted, by us, as an omage to our friendships, the color pink, and the memories that we carry with us to this day. It still resides, I believe, in the student lounge at JMU.

Since then Miss P and I have formed an inseparable bond; one consisting of me yelling at her for never being on time to anything, relationship advice, and, as always, help picking out an outfit and accesories for an evening out. I've been through a lot of things with her and seen her grow to the person she is today. I've seen her at her worst and have watched her triumph over some tranny bull shit that we all seem to encounter from time to time.

I love me some Miss Procras., lateness and all...even when it means picking me up from the metro when I don't have a car, being a fervent supporter of the gay community by participating in Showtunes Night and the High Heel Race, or simply catching up over a glass of wine. There are very few people that affect your life in such a way that you know you want to be a part of theirs for a very long time...I said it yesterday in my blog...hold on to them because they don't come around very often.

I love you, Miss P. Always remember two things 1. I've seen your boobies and 2. I'll always be around for you just like I know you will for me too!

Love,

JJ

P.S. That top does not go with those jeans, I love your gold wedges, and go with the silver earings tonight ;) Oh and don't shop at Kohl's, TJ Max, Ross, Marshalls, OR Sanrio Surprise. Nothing says "disgusting tranny" like a Hello Kitty t-shirt and a plastic purse to match!