Once upon a time, Taylor did not care so much about her hair. She used to let me cut it in our disgusting college apartment bathroom after multiple gin and tonics, with the same scissors I used to open packages of batteries for my Discman and cut the tags off my new Forever 21 gear. The atrocities I carried out on her head as a result of this were many, so much so that I even apologized to her for it during my maid of honor speech at her wedding many years later.
Game of Thrones’ final season premiered Sunday night (duh, everyone knows this), and before we talk about the fashion, which should be the most important thing, can we address what’s really on everyone’s mind? Namely, WHAT THE FUCK IS ED SHEERAN DOING HERE.
This is an insult and an outrage, and I love Maisie Williams, but I hope she one day knows enough about life to be embarrassed about the fact that she stanned so hard for this dummy that the showrunners let him ruin five minutes of a great show for her sake. His face is terrible, his music is terrible, and THIS CAMEO WAS TERRIBLE. But Twitter already did a great job of dragging this whole thing, so I’ll move on, because: you guys, the lewks this season are FIRE. (Warning: spoilers ahead. Obviously.)
Happy Wednesday, dudes! We still can’t get it tf together, but a late post is an improvement over no post at all, right?
So let’s talk about how the 90s are fully back. Lindsey and I are at that age where we get to experience the return of trends we were alive to see the first time, and I don’t know about her, but I’m having flashbacks of my mom telling me that one day I’d know what it was like to see younguns rocking the same styles that I cringe remembering myself in as an adolescent. What my mom didn’t predict is that I’d be HERE FOR IT. Read More
Hello, lovelies! Well, it’s been a nice long holiday weekend, and you know what that means… Lifetime crushing it with the original movie premiers, obvs. I got together with the fam on Sunday night to watch the premier of LMN’s most recent psychological thriller, The Wrong Crush, and boy was it not even remotely psychological or a thriller! And that’s exactly why we loved it. Read on for the full recap of this idiocy in all its glory…
Hellooooooo everybody! We’re back! Sorry we’ve been so spotty with the posts recently. There’s a lot of big shit happening personally for both of us, but hopefully there won’t be any more interruptions for awhile. Thanks for hanging in there with your girls.
Since we last wrote, summer has officially arrived. It’s been surprisingly mild here in Georgia this June, but the heat is ramping up, and it’s not gonna break until October. Say goodbye to dry skin and brittle hair and hello to a constant sweat-mask and chlorine wrecking your dye job! Read More
Hey, lovelies! We’re glad you’re here. Sorry we didn’t post last week. We’re shit, we blew it.
But moving on: One of my irrational pet peeves is when a TV show about “normal people” puts characters in entirely new outfits in every scene and you never see a person wear anything more than once. Sure, TV is designed to sell us stuff, and real life can be kind of depressing so we don’t want total verisimilitude–but come on, even if I was rich, I like to think I’d get some repeat usage out of my hot designer shit. Besides, one of the best parts about getting dressed is being creative, and what’s more creative than finding multiple uses for a single thing?
In one of my earliest memories, I’m four or five years old. My mom and I are in the living room of the house I grew up in, and I’m wearing the same dress I insisted upon wearing every day: long and red, with little white flowers all over it, and a ruffle at the hem that just brushed the tops of my feet. I had other dresses, but this was my favorite, and in this memory my mother is trying to convince me to relinquish it for washing, and I am staunchly refusing. “I’ll wash it right now,” my mother is saying. “You can have it back in an hour.”
“But then I won’t have anything to wear while you’re washing it.”
“You have a drawer full of clean pants upstairs. You can wear pants for one hour. It won’t kill you. Besides, wouldn’t that more comfortable to play in?” At this point she’s getting exasperated, because I’m being an unreasonable dick, as children are wont to be. Read More
Hello lovelies, and welcome back! As you may or may not already know, Taylor and I are conveniently located in Atlanta, Georgia, the sweaty armpit of America known as the Dirty South. Now, I’m not entirely sure the exact origins of that name, but some might say that it has to do with red clay, dirt roads, and the very distinct sound and soul of southern hip hop. If I had to hazard a guess, though, I might also add to that the fact that it’s hot as BALLS down here and the only way to ever feel clean is to 1) never leave your house between the months of May and September, or 2) take at least 4 showers a day. So, on that note, I’d like to present to you, dear readers, a little tip straight from the land of 100% humidity and perpetual swamp crotch: bathing suits are basically sweat-absorbent body suits that you don’t have to wear a bra with.
If you’re not watching Sense8 on Netflix, let me break it down for you: it’s a sci-fi show by the Wachowskis (who made The Matrix trilogy) about eight people from all over the world who are connected telepathically and share information, skills, and, occasionally, weird slo-mo group sex, who have very complicated individual lives and are also being hunted by an evil scientist. If it sounds ridiculous, it is, but oh my god I’m obsessed with it. As flawed as it is, it’s also about FRIENDSHIP and LOVE and ASS-KICKING, which are three of my favorite things. There are not just one but two healthy and loving gay relationships, a trans character played by a trans actress, and four main characters of color who have interesting and complicated storylines. I’ve gone deep into Tumblr fandom on this one, you guys, and there’s so many things I could talk about in embarrassing depth, but the most important of these is Doona Bae and her outfits.
Hello and welcome, kittens! So, you may or may not have noticed that our name has taken on a slightly less serious tone of late. That’s because, as it turns out, Taylor and I are not serious people. We’re a couple of idiots, and in addition to wanting to talk about clothes and beauty products, we also want to do dumb shit like write recaps of Lifetime movies and reviews of Diva Cups (IT’S COMING). We needed a name that felt more like us, so welcome to Resting Bitch Face. We’re starting off this fresh new blog with a lady fresh out of the slammer in LMN’s brand new original Mommy’s Prison Secret. We hope you enjoyed this explanatory intro, now let’s get into the real post, shall we?