Being in DC over the Christmas season can be psychologically deceptive. Sure, there are a few token holiday-themed activities for those who seek them out, but I am actually somewhat surprised by how un-Christmassy the city feels right now. I think that part of it is the fact that a massive portion of the city’s residents flock to far-off relatives’ abodes for the holiday, and are perhaps less inclined to erect yuletide trappings in two cities. It also looks nothing like Christmas outside – my frostbite-fortified Chicago soul is ready to have an outdoor cookout.
Given the fact that the weather is reminding me more of Labor Day than Christmas, you can imagine my surprise at the discovery that it is actually December 20. It’s as if 2011 blew by during a coffee break. Naturally, I am in a state of near panic. I have a flight to Hong Kong in 24 hours, but before that ought to acquire at least a few gifts. And my idea pistol is shooting blanks.
You know what was not at all helpful? Ladies’ magazines. For genuine. Year after year, the holiday gift guides in women’s magazines strike me as having been compiled by people who have never met an actual lady, and who have never given or received an actual gift. If you don’t believe me, please refer to the evidence below.
One of a two things could be happening here. If you sister is cool and sexy and loves these, then I regret to inform you that your standards of evaluation might be skewed because you don’t know enough cool and sexy people. If she is cool and sexy and doesn’t like them, then she might still feel compelled to wear them since they’re from her less cool and less sexy sister. Then you’ll still come out on top, because your scores will be settled as soon as she dons these – if this garment doesn’t ensure a more egalitarian distribution of familial sexiness, I don’t know what would.
This is probably a good time to make the point that I really am flummoxed as to what human problem is solved by making track pants fancier. What occasion exists that is too fancy for loungewear, but not fancy enough for jeans? I am going to assume that this person is painting a palace.
Um, Vogue thinks we should spend a cool grand on a buttery leather scooter helmet.
You guys, promise me this. If you have someone on your gift list who might need a scooter helmet, buy them a bike instead. DON’T EVEN WAIT UNTIL CHRISTMAS. Just be a friend, okay? Otherwise, I’ll mock you for being pals with some guy on a scooter.
- A still-not-totally-gift-equipped-Natalie