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Women’s Jeans Suck

Olaf — Thu, 28 Dec 2006 14:16:35 +0000

For Christmas this year I decided to go in over my head and do some shopping for women’s jeans for my wife. I took the advice of several other females – some at work, personal friends, and family. I learned a volume about women’s fashion designs and the marketing evil behind it. I also learned not to listen to Gail at work about her fashion tips.

First the tips. Small pockets accentuate bigger bottom – look for larger pockets. Faded thighs on dark jeans makes for a rounder looking leg – sometimes unflattering. Ultra low-rise waist lines can make for a ½” zipper and therefore a button that may be uncomfortable to your sensitive part. Low and ultra low-rise pants can also cause you to muffin-top, which some women do not like. Jeans all run too long for the average woman. Petite length jeans are 31″ on average and are actually more of the average for women’s legs. Superstar brands like 7 don’t run in the normal sizes, they are measured by the waist circumference. This is the only way you buy men’s jeans, by the way. Brands don’t necessarily have to follow a strict measurement system to represent their sizes. For instance, it is a well-known fact that women’s sizes have shifted over the last few years. A size 0 today was once a size 2. Shapes are also a trick. Pants shaped vaguely as an hourglass (tapering in at the knees and spreading back out) require that the wearer really have the same figure without the pants.

And now for the experience. I went to Filene’s Basement on Gail’s recommendation from work. I was supposed to be looking for brands such as 7, Jag Jeans, AG, and Khors (I think). They have these illustrious jeans for bargain prices, which apparently just means under $250.00(!). I did find 7, which is quite popular as I understand it now. There was a gaggle of women pouring through a bin of these jeans. I fought through and tried to understand the sizing, which was using the inches measurement of the waist rather than the nonsensical standard system. I finally gave up on that futile effort and talked to a woman in another department. She told me that once your figure goes beyond an 8 or 10, you stop paying exhorbitent prices for jeans. They are, afterall, still just denim. She pointed me to the nice jeans for women and I happily browsed through something I could understand more clearly. The real problem with the place I was shopping was that the store was divided by brands, which I don’t care about. I wanted to walk into a “denim section” dedicated to the display of all denim fashions. That would save a ton of time! If I got into women’s clothing, I think I could do a lot for their shopping efficiency. I would also add length measurements to all the pants so women know what they’re buying. Even better, they’d have a choice in what length they purchase so they don’t have to hemn them after the fact. I think I might also add a hip vs. waist measurement in inches.

In the end, my sole purpose for this experiement was to learn a little more about women’s shopping woes and try and expand my wife’s horizons on jeans she may have otherwise never taken a look at.

*UPDATE* The jeans buying experiement was a moderate success. After some initial shock of what I had done, she finally came around to see that what I did was pretty cool. She wore a pair of Seven jeans (Lane Bryant knock-offs) with minor bling on the back pocket. The main concern was what to wear with such fancy jeans. So she wore a shirt that Balthazar, the three-year-old, picked out for her for Christmas. I promise you I did not coach him – he picked out a brown Jimmy Hendrix shirt. And I think Amy looked great in the jeans. They fit! She has yet to try on the black pair I bought, but I’m guessing they will probably fit as well (because they’re the same size). Interesting side note here – Amy bought me a couple of pairs of jeans for Christmas as well. Great minds think alike.

Lilly Capehart – Lizard Whisperer

Olaf — Mon, 09 Oct 2006 16:48:18 +0000

Lilly and family have put together quite the entrpreneurial activity. Lilly “hypnotizes” Green anoles by stroking their underside a few times in her hand. The lizard is pretty much inactive for 10 minutes or so while she dresses them in doll clothing, poses them in miniature scenes, or simply sticks them together like primates from A Barrel of Monkeys. The results, as captured by her father Lucien, are fantastic. You’d think they were Photoshop’d (yes, that’s a verb), but now you know better! Lilly was recently on David Letterman, so I’m sure she’s going to be busy hereon out.

Lizard Ville

Metaphysiology: My Word, not Theirs

Olaf — Wed, 13 Sep 2006 17:25:27 +0000

I thought I invented the word metaphysiology just now. Meta- being the state of something being in an advanced or super state, physique/physical representing the anatomy, and finally -ology being the study of. Together that gives you the “scientific study of superhuman qualities or powers.” Alas, the New Age folks have already taken the word and generally polluted its use for my own subversive needs. Regardless, you now understand that it’s *metaphysiology: my word, not theirs.

Now that we’re seeing eye-to-eye, the subject at hand is *metaphysiology. It’s long been a tradition of man to contemplate various superhuman states. Superheroes (ergo Comics) were born of this fantasy with the metaphysical realm of possibility. I too have long sought after the perfect superhuman power. The age-old question is simply, “If you could choose only one superhuman power, which would it be?” Isi and I just had the same conversation and came to the distinct conclusion that further analytical discussion should ensue.

Invisibility has long been one of my favorites, though I’m reconsidering based on some further examination. Invisibility provides the ability to conduct mischief, avoid trouble, and launch an unstoppable offense. The caveat being that you couldn’t wear anything to be totally invisible. You may also be lost forever if you die while invisible. I also question what invisibility actually entails. Is it that light passes and reflects through you, or just that light is wrapped around you? If it’s wrapped around you, then there’s the distinct possibility that you *could* wear clothing. The area of effect could be a condition of your power put into the effect. Also – if it’s a field, then presumably something could enter that field with you. To keep from being seen, you’d need multiple layers of this field to prevent discovery. From an anatomical standpoint, you might have a broader range of vision because there’s nothing to obscure it like eyelids.

I’m not sure if I’m willing to consider Invulnerability as a superhuman power. It would be quite fantastic, but doesn’t have a limitation as any human trait should have (even super). Limited invulnerability would be helpful, but should be something fairly explicit. For instance, invulnerability to fire, direct physical impact, or perhaps just agelessness. Agelessness could possibly be one of the more obvious choices, but careful consideration proves that this may just drive you insane. Agelessness means that you live forever given normal care, but may die from anything that would kill normal humans. That just means you couldn’t go and sleep for 100 years to recollect your sanity.

Perhaps an important element of the *human* in superhuman should be to consider vulnerabilities into the mix. Every superhero must have an Achilles heal, as it were.

Fireballs a la Street Fighter, Super Mario Bros., and others, would most likely just get you in trouble. And in all likelyhood would not be enough in itself to rescue you from the perilous danger that would come to anyone throwing fireballs willy-nilly. But of course, throwing fireballs might indicate that you are impervious to fire itself. If you are impervious to fire and can generate it, it’s not without reason that you couldn’t engulf yourself in flames. Not only that, but perhaps you don’t require oxygen to breath either. If you’re surrounded by fire, breathing is going to be quite labored and not suitable for any kind of hero.

These are but a few that we talked about today. The idea of metaphysiology is simply that you think through the exact mechanisms by which the power is available to you. Its limits, strengths, vulnerabilities, and repercussions should be included in any proper study. After some consideration, I think I’ve narrowed down my perfect power (and you Ze Frank fans will know that I am considering a Power Move from this)…

If I could summon for you now a particular image of ‘Lucky.’ It would be a preternatural luck in that perhaps you’d reach a state of seeming invulnerability by the shear fact that luck always rides at your heels. The downside is that you don’t know when you’re luck will fail you, but at times it will. I’d love to make a comic book hero out of this concept – perhaps a retirement project.

My long-time love belongs to the power of Communication. A superhuman power of communication would involve almost a telepathic ability to understand and communicate with anyone or anything (capable of communicating) in a way in which the subject is accustomed. That would mean you could speak any language or dialect assuming you were in approximate contact with someone that spoke that language (phones and Internet would not work). In advanced states, I imagine the power as being mostly a telepathic ability; having the ability to communicate either telepathically or physically.

What powers have you dissected? What powers do you have? If you’re blogging *metaphysiology, please link back here and don’t forget to tag.

Today’s Memory Lapse

Olaf — Thu, 29 Jun 2006 13:31:23 +0000

ARRRRGGHHH!!! I’ve done it again, only this time it’s worse! I left my clothes at home having left early for work to workout. It wasn’t a simple shirt this time, however. It’s nearly the entire enchilada. I did manage to bring fresh under garments. I also left my wallet in my car, having car-pooled with a buddy. So now I’m high and dry and I plan on playing racquetball at lunch. My business attire today consists of an undershirt (black, so maybe no one notices – though it is tight), the shorts I wore to the gym, and gym shoes/socks. Nice! They can’t even send me home, because I don’t have a car to get there. It’s just a good thing I’m not a sales person and I don’t have any customer interaction. I guess there’s a reason for that, now that I think about it.

2006: The Year of the Landfill

Olaf — Mon, 09 Jan 2006 22:06:25 +0000

Last year, and for roughly ten prior, I collected material goods as the situation arose. In 2006, I threw them all away. Well, I didn’t exactly throw them all away, though if you were to ask my wife you’d get a different response. My wife and I both took the first week off of the new year to clean house and simplify our lives. My vision of this momentous event was perhaps a little crazy, but impacting nonetheless. I rented the use of a 20 cubic yard roll-off dumpster, which sat ominously in the driveway for the weekend. Balthazar called it the “red boat.” We spent two days throwing a large assortment of household goods into the red boat. Everything from a large couch to bags of dust and old underwear went. I’ve always dreamt of a largish hole directly to the center of the Earth stationed somewhere in my house. Maybe in its own room or something. It would need a large door leading into it so I could throw things like couches into it. This dumpster was a symbol of that dream come true. Unfortunately, the dumpster also took $270.00 with it. However, I was happy to pay almost any amount to be rid of so many years of accumulated garbage and unused trinkets. My major decision point around something’s salvation was whether it had a place or not. No place to store it, trash it. Wrinkled? Trash it. Stinky? Trash it. This goes for clothing and books too. If a page fell out of a book, it got trashed. I realize I could have sold everything in a garage sale, but I also realize this is just another way for us to procrastinate further. And after the sale, what do I do with the rest of the stuff? Sorry – I’ve been through that already. This time it’s for real. The event signifies a change in our lives for the better as well. We are determined to make this change permanent and impacting in our daily lives. We’ll need to analyze purchases for relative usefulness and stop keeping everything. Clothes are the hardest thing. I have a tendency to keep clothing beyond its time. No more! Now I throw away clothing and replace it with new clothing. Do you have any idea what a pile of laundry looks like after 10 years of collection? Well…worse than my pile, but mine is bad all the same. I’d take pictures to show you the garbage, but it’s gone. Taken this afternoon to the big landfill in the sky. It’s bad what I’ve committed against nature in this act, but it’s all the better to drive the message home. STOP WITH THE WASTE!

Flak Magazine: Aqua Teen Hunger Force: The Interview, 09-22-03

Olaf — Fri, 13 Aug 2004 20:09:28 +0000

‘Just Bring ‘em In From Space’
An Interview With the Creators of Aqua Teen Hunger Force

By James Norton

As genres go, ‘anthropomorphic food’ has a fairly lousy track record. What’s meant to be cute and whimsical typically turns out to be a mix of square and spooky. There’s nothing particularly fun about McDonald’s existentially disturbing mascots, for example. Who can have fun while considering the implications of fried potato slices that can formulate independent thought? What possible milkshake-related insights can be brought to us by an enormous talking turnip? And who actually enjoys the strangely upbeat cannibalism of the pigs-in-chef’s-clothing that grace the awnings of most American barbecue restaurants? This is to say nothing of the Christ-injected VeggieTales.
If talking food is a tool, it’s one typically seized by a businessman/evangelist desperately grasping for ‘funny’ and using the first inoffensive, seemingly comic concept he can find.
But Adult Swim mainstay ‘Aqua Teen Hunger Force’ may be enough to singlehandedly rehabilitate the genre. Featuring a streetwise and nigh-omnipotent box of french fries, a chronically stupid wad of hamburger meat with an unnerving talent for deadpan sarcasm, and a milkshake who is, in the words of his creators, ‘an asshole.’

More after the jump…