One of the most exciting parts of the Sweetlife Festival was the abundance of delicious and at-times organic food! Though I try very hard to eat healthy during the week, I sometimes fall off the wagon on weekends. And that is how I found myself in line for Astro fried chicken and donuts:
A massive fried chicken BLT and a bite of a creme brulee donut later, I was in heaven. The accompanying organic beer was delicious and refreshing. I only wish I had room for some of the other delicious options:
For once, some of my favorite DC food trucks made their way over to me, instead of the other way around.
Before I go into the artists, or the food, or any other fabulous aspects of yesterday’s Sweetlife Festival, I feel I must devote an entire blog post to the types fashion statements and…other statements I saw yesterday.
There was the girl who forgot her shirt at home:
The girl whose shorts were so short that they were causing a wedgie:
The girl who decorated her thighs with someone else’s hand-prints:
The people playing Twister without any actual directions being called out:
The girl who was confused because there wasn’t a beach here:
The girls who followed the unofficial (and mostly unflattering) uniform of the festival:
The girls bringing the 90’s back:
The grandma proving you’re never too old to shake it to some hip-hop:
The lady whose dog ate half of her shirt before she even left the house:
The man who had no shirt, no shoes, and no problem backing it up:
The woman who rocked a backless leotard with some tassels thrown over it for good measure:
The men who put their beauty sleep first:
The man who fell face-first into a puddle of paint and then reflected on what his life had become:
And because if I dish it out, I should be able to take it too, the chicks who poorly decorated their legs with a smiley face that included a grill and some failed attempts at being the next Van Gogh (yes that’s us):
And finally, some unplanned matching that we tried to make into a peace sign, but we accidentally drew a Mercedes sign instead. You’re welcome for the free plug, Mercedes:
Music festivals definitely have a unique culture and rather than fighting that, we embraced it:
The best part about dressing for a festival is the freedom to do virtually anything. Here’s to all the people we saw who did just that. Long live your free spirits!
Every so often, I think to myself: wow, this has been a very normal day/week/month and then something awkward happens. I take it as the universe’s way of reminding me that I should really blog more often. Today’s incident concerned a pair of black dress pants that I was thrilled to find a few months ago after hunting for the perfect pair (it is more challenging than it sounds for tall humans).
Everything was going well until I discovered that my pants were splitting at the seam, at that seam.
The most exposed seam of all and that if I stood up and walked, there would be problems. After an initial bout of panic, I sat chortling to myself for a good five minutes. My refusal to a) invest in a sewing kit, and b) learn how to sew had led me to this unfortunate crossroads. Realizing that I had little choice, but to take an early lunch, I waddled like a turtle-bird hybrid towards the metro. From there, I wobbled my way into a TJ Maxx, fully aware that any pants I would find there would be just as substandard in quality as the pair that I was currently wearing. Thirty minutes later, I was back at work with three pairs of pants: one defunct pair, one pair that I put on as soon as I bought it, and one pair in case this ever happens again. This beats both the time that I lost the buttons on my pants and had to use a complicated combination of staples and paper clips to keep them up. Lesson learned.
I recently read that male university students in North Korea will now be required to get the same haircut as Kim Jong Un. Though many media outlets picked up this story and ran with it, a second look shows that as with many things North Korea, there isn’t any evidence to support this claim. What Radio Free Asia has called a decree, may in actuality be just a trend or a way for young people to demonstrate their allegiance with the government.
(Image Via The Guardian)
Before I get to the political implications of all of this, it is interesting to note that Kim Jong Un’s haircut is not just a fashion choice, it seems to be modeled after his grandfather’s cut in the 1930’s, a way for him to demonstrate ties to his grandfather, rather than his father (Bruce Cumings). Family, am I right?
Even though this particular story seems to be without merit, the Hermit Kingdom has in the past waged a war against long hair, airing an entire propaganda campaign that called out “sloppy” individuals by name on TV (more on that here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/4157121.stm).
As far as politics go, a story suggesting that Kim Jong Un is crazy or ridiculous is far from helpful or conducive to the continuous effort of getting North Korea to see logic.