THE LIST

i've been meaning to write this forever. i don't fancy myself knowledgeable in many areas, but i have lived in four major cities, been at the top and the bottom of the price chain, and am generally a picky, demanding, and extremely selective consumer. when it comes to my hair, my legs, and... oh fuck when it comes to just about anything pertaining to my appearance-- i settle for nothing but the best. and i do it on a budget.

so before i start, i would like to establish a couple of things.

1. i am too lazy and disorganized to get any sort of promotion or funding for this blog. thus, unlike allure magazine, or sephora, none of this info is influenced in any way by anything other than a girl's experience and opinion.

2. i hereby challenge other bloggers to publish their own 'lists.' as we all know, the greatest of cosmetic, skin care, and fashion advice is gained by word of mouth. so c'mon bloggers. join the fun.

3. this list is incomplete. again, unlike sephora or allure, i don't have promotional funding. plus, it's all opinion. so if i don't have a product i love in any given category, well, that category is blank. appreciate my candor.

4. let's be friends. no, seriously. even if you're not a blogger, and instead just a consumeraire, i would very much like to see your list, or even just a few of your favorites. and i'm happy to blog it for you as well. drop me a note @ loannabeek (at) gmail (dot) com

HAIR
today i am starting with hair. clothing should be up in the next few days.
let me start by saying that my hair is my signature. for as long as i can remember, i have been tall, broad-shouldered, assertive, slightly outspoken, and, as my seriously evil ex-boyfriend once told me-- mannish. Prick. can someone else agree with me that he was The Greatest Dick Ever? yes, well anyway. plus i have muscular arms which would be cute and sexy if i were angelina jolie but on me they just look, well, more mannish. ANYWAY, i compensate for this manliness by employing a number of traits which are just about as Stereotypically Feminine as it gets. like my hair.

1. HIGHLIGHTS: JO-JO AND STEVEN
these two have been a pair for as long as minnea has been a polis. they started at 1649 or whatever that snooty salon was called on lake street. they floundered from there to here to there again, and as of right now, they are at the Wave salon on hennepin and 35th. now i've seen a lot of stylists in my day, including some which were Kind Of A Big Deal. when i was with elite, i worked with john barnes, ginger kahn, and other Big Names Which Impress People. however, the best of the best hands down-- are JoJo and Steven. go find them. It's worth the money. i promise.

2. PRODUCTS: RENE FURTERER NATURIA DRY SHAMPOO
i spend on average about $50/month on shampoo, conditioner, etc etc. yes i know. children starving in africa. but please understand. it's my hair. it's my HAIR. so anyway, any blonde can appreciate that the best conditioner ever is not washing for a week. yes again. i know. gross. but it works. and this furterer stuff may actually be the greatest invention of all time. my sister, who has longer, thicker, more color treated hair, and is lucky enough to have me sending her products from time to time, also endorses this product. she did mention that the primary ingredients (butane, propane, isobutane, lots of other 'anes' which sound dangerous) could be cause for concern if the user likes to spray her hair in small spaces, or around the presence of small children. but what the hell. no product is perfect. this one is close.

3. PRODUCTS: CHI SILK INFUSION
again with the friend long hair issues. most girls have some sort of "anti-frizz" or "gloss," or "flattening serum," etc etc. this girl is humble enough to refer to all of them as grease, cause we all know that's what they are. chi silk infusion is the greatest grease ever. plus it smells awesome. go and get it. it rocks.

RACHEL BILSON: DON'T KNOW WHO SHE IS BUT SHE, TOO, IS COPYING ME.

does anyone know who the hell rachel bilson is? yes, i've seen pictures... ok i've only seen two pictures and they're both of a small, obnoxiously cute brunette (wearing MY HOODIE). i mean she sort of looks familiar. is she the latest drug addicted teen star who is currently holed up in rehab at age 14 and a half? see, now i'm getting mean. i should really just stick to the facts. ready?

1. i discovered mike & chris. if you don't know who mike & chris are, then please allow ME, the INVENTOR or maybe more accurately the DISCOVERER to explain it to you. since it was ME and NOT RACHEL BUTTHEADSEN who discovered them.

2. do your remember girlshop? it was a website, way back when, which was poorly organized and overly peppy and displayed entirely too much pink and warhol inspired stick figures. however, it was a pretty cool. as i remember, it was a sort of design collective. and whomever was in charge would go out, find cool new designers, and sell a limited number of pieces. sort of like a boutique online with too many media-inspired references to the sort of jargon girls are expected, but never really do use. (much like the lulu sample sale each month, in case you're wondering. who the hell calls them "shoesies? are we twelve? and on crack? no. they're shoes, you dumbasses but anyway)

3. well anyway. there came a cold miserable day in minneapolis, shortly into the second semester of my first year of law school. in law school, the beginning of the second semester of the first year is when the delusion sets in. the first semester is over. you've been broken, humiliated, disheartened and are generally the most pathetic and miserable person on the face of the earth... besides maybe the dude sitting next to you who can't tell the difference between "you're" and "your" and everyone knows it because he sent out a mass email last week displaying his nauseating ignorance to his classmates. how the hell did that dude get IN to the U but i'm getting off point here. you are miserable. any inkling of happiness is delegated to random, superficial and entirely morally unsatisfying activities which may, for a few seconds, get your mind off of constitutional law. in this case, my desire for comfort, and unyielding dedication to remaining fashionable despite my educational pursuits left me envisioning a sleek, simple, tailored and slightly embellished hoodie. so i began my search, right there in constitutional law, for the sleek hoodie. i began with girlshop, typed in "hoodie" and up came a sort of caramelly brown, tailored thick jersey zip up hoodie with large marc jacobs buttons, a wide waistband, and general greatness. my spring semester loans had just been disbursed to me, and so i clicked to buy regardless of the fact that the sleek little hoodie was $172. no luck. sold out.

4. now here comes my true mark of genius. i actually emailed the owners or website people from girlshop as well as mike & chris themselves, to ask when more of their merchandise might become available. do you know what year this was?! 1999. ok i'm lying. i think it was 2004. but STILL. rachel bileson was still in the mickey mouse club in 2004. and where was i, faithful readers? WHERE WAS I? i was in pursuit of mike and chris.

anyway long story longer, mike and chris never got back to me but whomever read my email assumed i was a retail owner and put me on the "list" which means i get the brochure dealy of all new season lines before rachel bilson gets them, and also means that i am ridiculously unbelievably cool and an deserving of all credit for DISCOVERING mike and chris.

ok i'm done. i'm coming back later today to write about how i am a bad, bad friend.
ljb

Chloe Jeans I Must Have Immediately

Judi Rosen: Black Balled

as some of you may remember, I posted some jeans recommendations last month in my post entitled Go and Buy These Jeans. Now.

my final "recommendation" was actually a warning not buy a pair of jeans I have been coveting for some time now-- the elephant bell by Judi Rosen.

well i changed my mind. have at it. i just found the jeans online (finally) and was horrified to realize that they come in sizes small-medium-large. ok maybe there's an extra small or extra large but this does not lessen the blow of the realization that Judi Rosen has abandoned us as women. i'm sorry but seriously. what the hell is she thinking?! denim is probably one of the most challenging pursuits in the history of women's shopping. there are all sorts of rules (don't go shopping when premenstrual, in a bad mood, etc). think of the catch phrases (blue jean baby, forever in blue jeans, nothing comes between me and my calvins, etc). or denim's role in weight gain or loss ('if my jeans are tight...'). or what about that episode when miranda finally loses the baby weight and realizes that she fits back into her 'skinny jeans?'

let's face it, denim is not only important, it's a RATHER delicate situation for many women. so don't we deserve, at the very least, sizes 2-14?! these days, sizes are popping up everywhere from 00 to 22. and why? because we're all different! we can't be classified into 7 sizes any more. we're unique. and we know that! JUDI ROSEN, ARE YOU HEARING US ROAR?!

but it's not just that. i guess i'm just becoming increasingly fed up with designers who charge an arm and a leg (oh god, now i sounds like my mother) for a good which is not superior. to be frank:if you're going to charge $350 for (some albeit incredible) jeans, don't you OWE IT TO US TO MAKE MORE THAN 3 SIZES?!

so anyway, i call bullshit. judi rosen is no longer cool and in my book and you know how i like to hold a grudge...

judi rosen: black balled.

RESCUE THE BUSTIER!

about 5 years ago, i was at the filene's basement on north michigan avenue with my college best friend, and i found myself stuck. no, i was not trying to decide between purchases, i was actually and physically trapped inside a gianfranco ferre couture gown made of a stiff polyester seafoam weave complete with wire straps which defied gravity in a way that would make tara reid jealous.

what had begun with a fun little "let's just see how it looks on, i have a model body, right-- it might be cool" shopping experiment then found me, feet-cemented-to-the floor-arms-locked-as-though-i-were-about-to-be-secured-to-a-spinal-injury-
backboard as my best friend anchored herself against the wall and yanked that seagreen polyester from my half naked torso until her body literally torpedoed backwards and she landed, shirtless on the dressing room floor, bewildered and completely breathless.


there are a thousand reasons i miss tricia, but our shopping extravaganzas are a big one. you see, tricia and i have the same shopping style. if you like to shop then you surely know that not every girl has a shopping style, technique, if you will. and shopping with a girlfriend isn't just an easy, run-of-the-mill activity. girls have to make sure they mesh, have similar browsing patterns, before they make a commitment like shopping together. sort of like marriage compatibility... except... not.

anyway, now that tricia is all grown up and responsible and living in denver with a fucking fantastic job and apartment and life, i have no one with whom to share my seafoam polyester gown shopping trips. but it's not just polyester seafoam i'm talking about. it's my fashion superiority in general. for example, did you know that there are basically two times of year in which to find the best sales on designer and boutique pieces? i bet you didn't. well there are. late july, and early january.

i have no official source to support this theory. however, i do submit the following:

1. rich caramel-colored buttery calfskin pants from michael kors collection (that's COLLECTION, not 'kors by' or his other inferior lines). retail $800. i paid: $73.
2. strapless jersey corset dress by prada (say it again with my now "COLLECTION," not 'prada sport' or those other sheep lines). retail $600. i paid: $49.
3. mandalay grecian dress. yes, THE mandalay dress. retail $1025. i paid $65.

are you convinced? good. now. i'm almost getting to a point here so stick with me and you won't be sorry. occasionally, during these biannual shopping trips, i find a piece so fantastically wonderfully cute that i would pay full price for it. however, this proverbial piece is not full price and in fact it's not even "on sale." it's... ready? on clearance.

today, ladies, i have found that piece. it's 80% off and made by a truly classy designer. not only that, but this designer has a cult following. seriously. nanette's followers rarely let anything she makes go on sale, let alone clearance. it's a fantastic little strapless bustier top from Nanette Lepore. all of these factors make me look at this top, wistfully, and think... SOMEONE needs to buy it. i feel like it's a little baby bird, alone and cold in the wind and someone needs to come and snatch it up. YOU are that person, reader. YOU need to grab the bustier. GET THE BUSTIER, reader, RESCUE THE BUSTIER!

because of the javascript, i cannot insert the link directly here. so do this: go here: http://www.urbanchiconline.com/ then go to the bottom of the page and click on the little brown tab which says "what's on sale." after you click on the sale tab, the first page which comes up has a nanette lepore bustier corset top in the bottom lefthand corner.

you owe me your first born.

ps ok you don't have to give me your offspring but if you buy it, you do need to come back and tell me after you receive it. at least then i'll sleep at night knowing that someone rescued the baby bird.

REI: You Suck and I'm Going to Tell Everyone

here was a time, many months ago, when my fried KP and I encountered what we then believed to be The Worst Retail Salesperson Ever.

After several hours of pillaging through racks of dresses at Neiman Marcus, KP found a Cynthia Vincent black strapless dress which was suitable for wear to a dance we had agreed to attend with one of my numerous gay exboyfriends + his black toothed friend. We carried the garment to the counter for purchase and were quickly informed that "we accept American Express, Diner's Club, and Neiman Marcus cards."

Given my horribly bad credit, I gave up then and there. KP, the pillar of good credit and responsibility, was not to be deterred. 15 minutes later, she stared indignantly at an attractive Italian salesman who quietly informed her that she had been rejected. I secretly believe KP failed to meet the "snobby bitch" requirement for obtaining Neiman's line of credit, but recognize it's also likely that no matter how good KP's credit could be, she was also a law student with 80K+ in loans.

At the time, it didn't matter. All I knew was that KP found her dream dress, she deserved her dream dress, and if she didn't get her dream dress, somebody was gonna hear about it from me. I marched myself to customer service where I lied earnestly through clenched teeth, informing the short pudgy Neiman representative that he and his store had lost a lifetime of business from a soon-to-be Successful Wealthy Well-Dressed Attorney (I was referring to myself-- which is why this claim was a big fat lie. Not only do I have no intentions of boycotting Neiman Marcus, it's also highly unlikely that I ever be a Successful Wealthy anything).

He turned his little pig nose up in my face, cross his chubby little arms across his chest and recited "this is the direction our company wishes to take." Fire brims in my soul to this day.

So until yesterday, Neiman Marcus had earned, in my book, the Worst Retail Salesperson Ever award, narrowly defeating only the salesman at Marshall Fields who once suggested to me that I check the men's section for shoes. Bastard.

Anyway, yesterday my boyfriend and I drove on a congested highway away from urban civilization in pursuit of the highly acclaimed REI store. A self-admitted prissy girl, I had never set foot inside any sort of mountain-y earth-people store and did so yesterday only because my boyfriend and I made a deal. I go camping next week-- he votes democratic in the next election. We need mountain-y earth people gear to go camping, so it seemed only appropriate that we visit a mountain-y earth people store to purchase said gear.

Despite my unyielding reluctance to dip my perfectly pedicured toes into the cold unwelcoming lake of mountain-y earth people clothing, I did attend REI yesterday with some anticipation. My childhood best friend Synthia is a mountain-y earth woman, and her wardrobe is extremely cool and urban chic. From her sleek black north face fleece to her cosmopolitan 'i' am a earth woman, i just happen to also look cool' smith aviator glasses,' Synthia epitomizes the earth-friendly fashion, In fact, Synthia is and has always been the best dressed girl on the face of the earth-- in my eyes, and the idea of drinking from the same well as she was appealing. She had always spoken of REI as if it were like an organic Barney's, where every overpriced piece was made by well paid americans out of synthetic fabric. As you know, I do not believe in polyester, but I was willing to check it out nonetheless.

...fuck. see, i spent all this time building up and now i'm out of study break minutes. which means you are all (ahem, all 2 of you) going to have to wait a day till i finish my REI bashing story. In the meantime, stay away from that cold tacky building lest you purchase an item without directions, without a price tag and without a single fucking human employed by REI who can tell you what it's supposed to do.

I have breasts!

Someone who's important and knows more than I once called the drugstore speech in the 1996 movie Beautiful Girls "the best ten minutes of Rosie O'Donnell's career."

While it is perhaps in the greatest all time quotes ever, I tend to disagree, but we already know that I'm a flaming feminist liberal so let's move on. A portion of the quote goes something like this:

"Let me explain something to you, ok? Girls with big tits have big asses. Girls with little tits have little asses. That's the way it goes. God doesn't fuck around; he's a fair guy. He gave the fatties big, beautiful tits and the skinnies little tiny niddlers."

It's as much human as it is female, and although I can't really ponder the male equivalent, I'm sure they covet one another's... well I'm sure the grass is always greener for boys, too. It's simple, really: Skinny girls wish for boobs. Chubby girls wish for size 4 jeans. Anyone who has both large breasts and size 4 jeans is either a freak of nature, or not the product of nature.

I have an odd frame for a tall girl. At some point in my delayed pubescence, bumps developed where they were previously unrealized in the Beek family. My tall skinny mother looked to my tall skinny sister who shrugged her shoulders as if the milkman could be responsible.

Soon thereafter, I rejoiced in my newfound cleavage and entered the inevitable 'get-fat' period of my froesman year-- also known as the "freshman fifteen." Actually... sadly... I've heard that the phrase used to be the "freshman ten," which in my college days matured to the fifteen, and now I've heard they call is the "freshman twenty." Tragic, those cafeteria cheese quesadillas-- they are tragic.

I puffed up like a top-heavy, chubby giraffe, finding my (speaking of tragic...) black stretchy express pants even too tight, and spilling out of a D cup. When I returned home for the summer, my dad got me a gym membership, my mom told me to get rid of the ortho, and I slimmed down once again. Since then I've suffered my ups and downs, but never gotten close to the whopping 160 pounds I reached during that first year of college. Today I'm sort of a frail creature which I credit to living alone, as well as a number of other factors the details of which I'll spare you. In short, I'm around 130 now, which is not much on a 6 ft frame. And it's true, what they say. The boobs are always the first to go.

Thus, I have seen both sides of the mountain. And while I haven't decided which side is greener, I will in fact discover the cure for the skinny small boobed syndrome. And it's going to start like this: Today is my first skinny boob syndrome post, and I'll share with you a secret which I am of course reluctant to do because you might go and buy it and I don't like it when other people steal my ideas.

In exchange for allowing you to copy me, you will email me with further skinny boob syndrome ideas. Yes? Good. Ok, let's get started.

Ladies, let me introduce you to Bordeaux Seamless. It's stretchy, comfy, seamless, made of some kind of super fun material that doesn't trigger intense sweating, and best of all-- it's like buying breasts and a shirt at the same time. Take for example this top:

No, that's not me and yes, she's probably got a cup size or two on me. HOWEVER, I almost sort of look like this in my new bordeaux seamless shirt! I swear to god! In fact, I am looking down at my deflated little poopsies right now and thinking my god, they look huge.

And here's the best part: it's not just that shirt! In fact, I bought the shirt to your left based solely on my experience with my first bordeaux seamless top which I picked up another bordeaux seamless top at a sample sale last year-- and my first bordeaux top was strapless. You don't have to have SBS to know that tube tops aren't exactly the best way to perk up a flat chest. If bordeaux can do it with a tube top, my friend, bordeaux can do it for you, too.

oh PS. since i'm using their picture, i do feel obligated to give you this link if you want to buy it. However, the biggest selection I could find is at Tee Zone, or some other stupid name like that.

ok that's it for today. i can't figure out where i got this picture but here's another of their tops. some of them are yoga inspired but others are dressier and would be appropriate for going out. like this one: