An Astounding Salute to Freddy Mercury

Haven't you ever just walked out of your house one morning and thought, "I just wish Freddy Mercury was still alive." Well if you haven't this guy has. Chopsticks is a rare find in S.E. Portland and you can find ever rarer individuals performing night in and night out. Freddy here is a regular. Unfortunately Freddy doesn't sing quite like the real Freddy. He tries but it really doesn't measure up. By measuring up I mean it's actually horrible. Only accentuated by the closing of his eyes when he screeches the high notes out.

Onto what you all came here for.

We start off with the shoes. A lovely pair of off white Asics running shoes. I can't quite be for certain on the brand but the reflective tape on the sides is usually a dead giveaway. They're so hip right now because they make him fast, like a cheetah. The ladies don't even know what hit them when this sex panther comes stalking. It's quite fitting that they match his lovely pair of tight fitting off white dockers. They retail for $14.99 at any general store you can find in the country. The Malaysian workers that create such masterpieces stitch them together with love. It's quite a pity you can't see the large blue stain that was on the left pocket. Apparently Freddy likes to sit down with pens in his pockets which is so fetch right now. We now proceed on to his shirt. It's a lovely ribbed sleeveless number for one of our favorite designers. Fruit of the Loom has been hailed the world over for their cutting edge designs and brash bucking of the status quo. They introduced labelless shirts for gods sakes! It really is quite an amazing moustache Freddy is sporting and this picture doesn't come close to doing it justice. I only hope you can imagine in your minds as I was a grand witness to it.

Hello Buttcrack

I wonder what this little miss thang was thinking when she dressed herself before she went out this fateful night. Maybe it was something like, "how could I most closely resemble a circa 1982 twenty eight dollar skank?" If that was her intention she has succeeded miraculously.

She started off with a skin tight black T that accentuates every curve and roll of her body. Notice her darker legs. Thats right folks, she has sheathed her legs in fishnet stockings. Finally to bring the ensemble together she dialed up Britney Spears for advice.

"Hey Britney what up? I need some advice on what to wear tonight to make me beautiful and men to want me."

Britney- "Oh honey that's too easy. Wear something that is four sizes too small for you and no underwear. Then get really drunk, take some horse tranquilizers and make sure you aren't wearing any underwear."

Oh yes everyone. Those are HOT pants. The hottest of the HOT. So HOT they are literally burning off. This particular pair was designed by the good folks in Beaverton to put the onus on her rump. What an onus it was. It was like a great big target or flashing neon sign. She has a lovely little butt crack poking out that is covered by neither the pants or the shirt. What a delicious treat some lucky fellow must have taken home later that evening. An even better surprise when he wakes up in the morning to find what is lying under his covers with him. It has the makings of a true Hollywood love story doesn't it?

The Leg Warmer Legacy

Ahh... The broken fashion laws of SoCal. There is so little time to stop and prepare yourself to catch the perfect shot. Everything is moving and shaking. And most people invite the camera with the pipe dream of it being posted online or passed on to someone who wants to pay them lots of money to be a crappy actor or just sit there and look pretty!

I digress...

This white Lilly of beauty was not wrapped in Charmin Ultra Soft, instead her faux leg warmers are ripped up tube socks... Two pair, in fact. The light ruffle of the skirt that hangs so gently around her mid drift is a mere extension of the "warmers." Was it cold, you ask. Perhaps, for the average Southern California resident on a January evening. And I would like to also believe it was. (Which still doesn't make any kind of leg warmers ok.) But instead I convinced myself she rushed to work from a Fame audition. I hope she gets the part because I wouldn't want her only claim to fame (no pun intended) to be someone ripping her carefully crafted outfit apart online for a cheap laugh.

PDX Fashion: LA Edition

(If I'd have gotten a photograph of the front, I might have won a Pulitzer. Chick was out of control crazy. She made no mistake of the home business she was running. Man, I'm so inspired by self-starters.)

Los Angeles is a city with a rich historical tapestry whose stories can only be told by those re-enacting the olden times.
Much like a recreated Civil War battlefield can show you the plight of war-time soldiers, Santa Monica Pier is proud to now offer up modern day hookers with 1970s sensibilities. Miss the good old days when hookers just came right out and said, "Hey, I'm a hooker," without all the hubub of possibly being just a normal woman walking the streets after dark? Look no further than the Santa Monica Pier, a Historical Hooker's paradise.

I thought to myself, "Man oh man, I am looking for an OLD SCHOOL streetwalker tonight. I mean, whatever happened to fur coats and thigh high fishnets on a barely legal Asian girl? Those were the good old days..."



And then God answered my prayers.

"Now I aint sayin' she a gold digga, but she aint hanging wit no......guy in wing-tips, shorts, and socks?"

The gal can clearly shop (though I'll refrain from critiquing her multilayered ensemble...she's pulling it off...) but her choice in accessories is, shall I say, awkward? Maybe he forgot his "casual, out for a walk with my mail-order bride" shoes, and he had these rockin' high-heeled wingtips left over from the wedding last night, beige socks to match the ensemble, and voila?

Dude, Vegas is a giant mall. Kick off your heels and put on some flip flops.

Do it for your lady, she likes the finer things.

Having an entourage helps people distinguish whether you are an actual hooker, or just a regular no-cost skeezbag.

Shall I start from the bottom or the top?

A la Joan Rivers: "Darling, what are you wearing?"

Hair: "I just did the roadie from Poison last night"

Shirt: "Roy Horn gave this to me after he was mauled by the tiger! Sweet, huh?"

Skirt: "I just want everyone to know I'm not a dude. See? Nothing hanging down here but a few threads!"

Boots: "David Bowie from the Labyrinth, remember? Geez."

And, as always, what goes around comes around. Or turns around. Entourage in tow.

Sneak Preview

You can't keep a lot of secrets in Las Vegas. We can see the desperation in the length of time folks spend sitting at the penny slots, and the length of the ash on their cigarettes. We can see how much money you're spending on your trip if you come down from the Bellagio Elevator or just stroll in from the street. And----what?----damn!----girl, we can see all your lady business in that cut out skirt!!!

Maybe the group counselor at your halfway house told you to be open with people, but that is something that should be closed up, sealed, and maybe you should throw away the key. I'm not going to even ask what that squiggly is on your inner left thigh, and why you felt the need to share it with us. You're obviously on the prowl, and quite possibly "on the job," but damn girl, if you want to work for Heidi Fleiss, put on the rest of your skirt. The indentions those little circles will leave are going to look like polio shots come morning...

Cowboy Ugly

There is a place in Vegas where (as a good friend puts it) "smiles go to die." This place is called the New Frontier Casino. And inside this nest of smoky blue haired ladies and slot machines there is a little country and western "club" called Gilley's. Oh Gilley's.

It is 50% lovely young ladies riding mechanical bulls in bikinis and dancing in cages. The other 50% is a counterpart of this fellow. Middle aged white men in wife beaters tucked into to their Wranglers. Few go in without the ten gallon and the over sized belt buckle. It was a haven of over weight men trying to "lay the pipe."

And if pictures could represent smells, I wouldn't be able to post this at all. The overwhelming smell of cologne cleared my sinuses. But he made up for it with the gold necklace that so delicately laid among his forest of chest hair.

If you do travel to Las Vegas. Stop in and say "Howdy"... if you're in the military. Then it's only $5. If you're a lady, it's the only "club" on earth that will charge you $5 extra.

What?

I have to thank this kid. He was great to pretend pose, while I snapped pictures of unsuspecting individuals through out Vegas. He smiled all the while knowing I would crop him out later. So here's to you Matt!




It's hard to explain this situation, really. I don't know if she was sick or drunk or just nuts? It was 75 degrees and she was wearing thick black tights and a sweatshirt with a terrible faux jean shirt with white lace on the bottom.

She hobbled along as if she were going to fall over. And shook. Not in an Parkinson way, but more of a "I'm about to walk into this casino and show the work who's boss." Very Creepy. I actually didn't get a good shot because I feared for Matt's life.

Has anyone seen my dog? A black show poodle...

I live in Portland, not in the hills of Mongolia. So how could I have missed out on this fashion crisis? This was my first run in with the champion of the boot war. Move over Uggs! At first glance, nothing seems to appear off. Follow the long hair to the down the back and continue on to the boots.

This is one of many, many pairs of this particular type of boot I saw. I thought Uggs were bad! I think she had her poodle skinned and wrapped around her feet. Unfortunately, this is not the worst set I saw. They come in an array of pastel colors. Baby Blue, Pink, Lavender and the Classic White.

In what world is it okay to where a tank top and fuzzy boots fit for snow shoeing?

Ode to Vegas Rump!

Las Vegas, Nevada. Sin City. What goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas. Well, mostly anyway. Too bad for this fashion villian this is too good to keep to myself.

Where to begin... Oh, yes, the jeans. I'm not sure who allowed this tragedy to happen to the golden tradition of american blue jeans. But, some one deserves a slashing for their creation. And two slashes to anyone who purchases them!

On to the top. Yes that is her black bra strap with pink lace. And sadly the camera failed to capture the fact that the yellow part of her shirt hanging off the shoulder is actually a zipper that travels all the way across her back.

With that being said. "Hell yeah sista for letting those stretch marks sparkle in the sunshine!"

(And, yes, the lady in the leopard suite is with her.)

"Ok, I'm in front of the bar. I'm wearing pink and my stomach is hanging out. You can't miss me."

Pink. The new black. No, I'm not being funny. Where do I start with this collection of badness?

This women stands alone, waiting for a bouncer to feel bad for her and not charge her the cover. She's having the"cover conversation" on her cell. (You know the one that says to the world "I have friends. I swear. I'm talking to them right now. Really!" But actually you're listening to your voicemail prompts.)

The ripped pink top was cool. And not too long ago. Roughly 10-12 years ago during the hammer pants era. They were worn by both men and women. Typically not with a white, poorly studded belt and matching shoes. But with paint splattered pants made of jersey cotton. So at least she is decades ahead of some of the others we spotted.

None the less, we are once again stopped in the middle of the street taking pictures of someone in the group. Only to later crop them out and zoom in on another "at least dress for your weight" clueless, bystander in the back ground.

How many words does it take to get the bottom of this fashion disaster?

One of these may look familiar to you. We are picking on the other one now.

The striped, sleeveless mock turtle neck sweater.

First, no article of clothing should take that many adjectives to describe it. Second, if it does, it's probably a good sign you shouldn't be wearing it. Third, if you do, at least hold your shoulders back and try to pull it off!

JEM!!!

Ahh... the waitress. This masterpiece seems to be constructed with a piece of fabric from the clearance bin at Joanne Fabric. This would have been fine, had she not simply put it over her head and cut a HUGE whole for her slender body. Though it looks like it was falling off, she had a spiffy little belt to hold it together. He electric blue bra strap matched her plastic earrings. Nice.

Next the white boots... AGAIN! Did I miss the fashion alert convincing people these were not merely part of a Jem and the Holograms Halloween costume, but should be a staple in every hipsters closet? I'm sure they were a "find" at a vintage clothing store downtown. You know? The kind that charged you $200 for those boots someone else wore 25 years ago.

"1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi.. HAVE YOU CHANGED YET?"

As our night progressed in Seattle, the fashion did not. There are a number of things wrong with this outfit.

Perhaps she went to the gym, didn't have time to change her bra so she threw on a (potentially) cool shirt and forgot to take off her weight lifting belt off. If that's the case I will forgive her. But something tells me she tried on several hundred outfits before leaving home and decided this was the look she would go with. Sad really.

The poorly done tattoo takes away from the horridness of this ensemble, if only for a second. But not long enough to forget that belts were meant for belt loops and sports bras for exercising.

Who died and made you the fashion queen you ask? Well, I'm not too sure but hopefully her outfit will take a plunge and refuse to be worn all at the same time ever again.

Scrunchman

In the eighties a small piece of elastic was covered in fabric and the scrunchie was born. This trend was a hit with females of all ages. Most have since abandoned this fad and moved on to less obvious forms of bundling the hair. Ponytail holders and "no pull" elastic bands have taken over and are much for acceptable for both male and female.

This gentleman apparently said to him self before breezing out the door " It may get a bit warm at the restaurant, I should grab a scrunchie just in case." He apparently didn't get the memo. Had I had a few more beers in me I would have told him. Female age 6 with scrunchie=cute. Male of any age with scrunchie=please have someone do a once over before you leave the house to remind you it's 2005 and you're a MAN!

Another night in P-Town... With White Snake!

"...in the still of the night I hear the wolf howl honey sneaking around your door..."

Although this picture is a bit dark, you can't avoid the chilling sight of the shiny white boots. He was surely ready to head up the White Snake Fan Club reunion party!

"...hear me sneakin round your door in the still of the night ain nothin gonna stop me now..."

Seattle Aug 27, 2005

A group of us went to Seattle and spotted a whole bunch of fashion violations. Unfortunately we only caught a few on film.

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These shoes aren't great, but I have to give props for sturdiness.

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Sleves really are a fattie's friend.

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There's so much wrong here that it's hard to know where to begin. The woman on the left has chosen a summery pink frock of light fabric and managed to pair it with the worst shoes on record. *Hint: Wedge heel white strappy sandles went out in the early 80's and have NOT made a comeback. But worst of all with her outfit is the coat. Black and boxy and somewhat masculine? An exceptionally poor choice with the dress.
On the right we have a peach sweater and a mint green 3 tiered skirt. With lace edges. No matter what the sales girl tells you, this skirt is never stylish or cute. And those silver shoes? Horrid. The extended toe curls up with wear, making the wearer look like a Keebler elf.
In both cases the skirt length is less than flattering for chunky calves.

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Shoe check. 'Nuff said.

Warped Tour 2005

Tulip and I made our way to St. Helens for the Warped Tour yesterday and rounded up some prize-winners for your viewing pleasure. Scroll down, there are several categories. Please enjoy and comment!
~Twisted

Special Category: Eat Something!!!!!

Karen Carpenter was wrong. You can be too thin.

Hair...The Warped Tour Winners

While Liberty Spikes and Mohawks may not cut it in the office, they are perfect for an event like this. Especially if they're as well done as these.

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And if you're gonna do blue, do it right.

Dress for your weight...the Warped Tour winners

There were a few people at the tour who showed good sense and enhanced their overall appearance by allowing some mystery as to what's under the outerwear.

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Not huge, but not perfect. However she is perfectly accentuated with a good hair style for her face and a T-shirt the correct size.

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This couple maintains edge as well as fashion dignity.

Dress for your weight...the Warped Tour losers

We've got nothing against a few extra pounds. Hell, we've got a few extra pounds. So don't think we're picking on these people simply because they (like most Americans) should probably get out and run around some. That's not the case at all. Our point here is that there are some basic rules.

1) If it sticks out and jiggles, cover it up.

2) Clothing should flow over the body, hiding flaws. If I can see your back fat clearly outlined in cotton then your shirt is too tight.

3) Bulges are your body's way of trying to escape bad fashion.

Every one of the pictures here illustrates the importance of one or more of these rules.

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Pants and shirt are so tight that I wish back fat was the only thing I could see.

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The shirt is too tight and sleveless is an unfortunate choice for anyone with an elbow-roll.

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This group has several fashion violations, but pay close attention to the girl on the right. She's not pregnant.

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If it sticks out and jiggles, what's the rule?

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There's so much wrong here that this chick could become the poster child for this site.

Bad Hair

This hair was spotted at the Bellmont Inn. The gentleman in question is wearing his hair in a knobby bun and he has something taped to the side of his face.

The lesson here is simple: Always get dressed BEFORE you get high. If you wait until after, you'll forget and just go out however you are.

Welcome to PDX Fashion!

Here at PDX Fashion we’re committed to ferreting out the best and the worst of Portland’s unique fashion sense. We’re not looking for Prada clad women roaming the streets on the arms of Armani suited men. We’ll leave those for New York and L.A. What we are looking for is the people who best epitomize Portland’s casual “jeans for every occasion” sort of look.
However, as in all things, if there’s a best, there has to be a worst. We’ve all seen someone who is wearing something so ridiculous that it makes us wonder; “Do they own mirrors?”
Over the coming weeks you will see several categories go up. If you think of something that we may have missed, please feel free to let us know. So far we’ve come up with: Hair, Shoes, Separates Coordination, Total Outfit, and Dress for your Weight.
Enjoy!
Twisted Tulip