Early Departures: too tacky to hang around!

The timing of arrivals and departures from social engagements can be tricky. You probably want to avoid being first to arrive, last to leave (unless, of course, you're the best friend or co-host), but how late is fashionably late and how late is just rude? And where is that fine line between "making an appearance" and barely showing up?

It's a tough area, ladies and gentlemen, and there aren't really clear answers. But here's something I know to be as true as no white shoes before Memorial Day: it is TACKY to leave major events prior to the major event. I'm not talking about leaving before the cake is cut, I'm talking about leaving so early you may as well have not come.

Case and point: do not leave graduation before the person you came to see has received her diploma. A friend of mine spent years in school only to have her grandparents leave while "Adams" and "Anderson" got their diplomas - even though THEY gave her a last name approximately 22 letters of the alphabet later.

Sure, it's hard to wait around sometimes. And sometimes you've got multiple events in one day - but let's AT LEAST try and be there for the main event. Do you leave the Fourth of July picnic while the sun is setting? Do you leave a baptism before the baby gets water poured on it? Do you leave a New Year's Eve party before the midnight champagne? Do you leave a football game at the end of third quarter?

Not if you have class you don't.

Tacky Behavior: Abandoning Your Post

Ladies and Gentlement, I appologize. It has been far too long since there has been an update from yours truly, and laziness is tacky behavior. Forgive me...

Since the last post, however, there has been much to write about. First topic of discussion is a classic "when tacky meets classy." Now, there are some colors that always make a gal look like the epitome of class (see, e.g. Red & Black). There are other less fortunate combonations that usually make a girl look like a color-blind drunk person put together her outfit. Usually, purple and red are exactly this combination, but dear readers, sometimes you can pull it off:

That's right - TP and I are now officially proud owners of law degrees. Classy. Even in purple and red.

In other news, I have left the cold gray skies of the Northeast for the warm summer sunshine of the South. This means a whole new world of classy and tacky. Quick observations: the classy factor is completely different down here - I'd forgotten that one is almost expected to wear her pearls to class... However, this is not a land free from tack - exhibit A is the cute Southern grandma in a full on pink warm up suit at the grocery store talking so loudly about her prescriptions to the pharmicist that we ALL know about her achin' heart. Pink on pink (with pink shoes) would be one thing - the pink bow clipped in her hair... Tack.

I promise more news this week and from now on - stick with me and I'll show you how a whole new part of our great country is tacky. Expect an upcoming post on overly dramatic patriotism by the way - for a region that once LEFT this country, the South sure does love it some U.S. of A.

The Walk of Shame...

Oh yes, we're going there.

Don't judge. You've probably been there, too. Maybe you didn't do all that the name implies, but who here, dear readers, has not pulled back on their cocktail dress and heels (or their suit and wrinkled shirt) and made it back through their city, campus, neighborhood, or even just apartment building without the aid of a shower or comb (or a memory of the night before)? Sometimes the prior night's outfit is forgone all together and replaced with an over sized pair of gym shorts and baggy t-shirt (which go great with black pumps).

It's a fact of life. And while perhaps it's an act inherently characterized as tacky (because really, no one's mother ever told them it was okay to do THAT) there are ways to class it up.

Do:

• Steal some mouthwash, clean up the smudged make up, wet your hair and borrow a comb.
• Leave a note if you get up first - preferably with a way to reach you. You don't have to see them again if you don't want to, but it's the classy thing to do.
  
• Wear shoes when you leave - even if it's heels with aforementioned gym shorts. We're not Britney.

Do not:

• Discuss your current situation with people on the subway, the cab driver, or people at the coffee shop that you pop in - everyone knows what you're doing, no need to explain. Also refrain from discussing the night on your cell phone in all the above places - no one wants to know.
• Guess the person's name. Snoop or just say "hun."
• Go to class, work, or brunch in what you have been wearing all night.

We may not be proud of it, but let's do it with some remaining shreds of dignity, shall we?

Some of my (many) thoughts on wine...

Jesus drank wine. And if you've ever attended any sort of Jewish celebration, you know the wine flows. Come to think of it, most everyone can agree that wine is a good thing. Who am I to disagree? And while usually it is very easy to appear classy (perhaps even feign class) by sipping from a wine glass at dinner, happy hour, or any other time, even wine can be tacky.

Some things to avoid:

• If you're bringing wine as a host/hostess gift, bring red wine. Bringing white wine means you either have to chill it (and then your suggestion is, "Here, we should drink this. I have better taste than you) or you don't chill it (and then you're saying, "We can't drink this, so you'll be stuck with it. And I don't even like it that much"). There are exceptions of course - if you happen to know the tastes of the host, if you were told to bring white, etc. But generally, play it safe.
• White Zinfandel. This isn't even a real wine - it's sweetened white trash alcohol. Rose is fine, even trendy. White Zin is not.
• Sending back wine at a restaurant. Exception of course if the wine is actually bad, but other than that - really, who are you?
• Franzia. Enough said. Though certain authors of this blog may (or may not) have played Franzia dodgeball. Judge away...
  

Exit, stage left (gracefully...)

Losing is not fun. Sometimes you lose when you really deserved to win, and sometimes you lose even when you really wanted something. At this time, take note from Sen. John McCain and show some grace and class as you congratulate the winner and thank your friends.

Do not go on an internet rampage.

I personally don't like to air dirty laundry, but since our readership is so low (quality, not quantity is what counts), I figured this is safe. Plus, TP and I are so uninvolved we didn't KNOW there was drama until after it happened! But we've since been informed and must comment.

A recent student government election went all underdog and came down to four votes. Now, whether out of apathy or a belief that the heir-apparent would win, most eligible members of the student body didn't vote. This sparked a rampage from the heir-apparent including a HUGE facebook post (including the line, " Unfortunately for the student body, I am certain that next year will speak louder than anyone could right now, so hopefully we can leave it at that") followed by a "de-friending" of many of his former constituents.

John McCain: classy (at least for a while)
Law Students: still have a lot to learn...

Dear Madonna,

You really are a minx. First you don't answer my letters. Then you persist in leaving your leg in the air at Louis Vuitton. Somehow you even made one of the models wear your skirt-that-used-to-be-a-fraggle. But I digress.

You see, I write for a different reason. I am sorry for you that you can't have the child you want. I know you must feel bad--but doesn't it disconcert you slightly that the child actually has a family in the town from which you would like her removed? Does it disconcert you slightly that Malawi seems to rather concerned about rich white ladies with britishy accents absconding with their youth?

I'm not saying that you are being tacky this time, but as ABT recently mentioned, I'm appreciating the awkwardness of this situation and how it would not have developed had you called Angelina and asked her how she so seamlessly obtains children from foreign lands.

Please put your leg down now.

Sincerely,

TP

What did I tell you about hats?

Easter in the South is quite an affair (isn't everything?) which usually involves massive church services, sisters in matching dresses, gloves, bow ties, and of course hats. It's tacky-meets-classy central.

As I got dressed for church myself this past Sunday, I was actually sad that I wasn't back home. Instead, I expected that even though I am Episcopalian (and thus services are fairly traditional) the service would have none of the fanfare in the congregation that I've come to love on fine spring Sunday mornings.

I was SO disappointed I left my camera at home. (But really, had I brought it - I could have blogged on myself)

There, two rows back, on the other side of the aisle was the greatest hat in the history of Easter Sundays. An otherwise simple hat, really, but all around the brim were bright purple daises and then (the piece de resistance if you will) on top was a bird's nest with BRIGHT blue and purple Easter eggs.

Ma'am, you are no Aretha Franklin. Not quite tacky-meets-classy, just tacky.

On a side note, I felt slightly bad for judging while actually IN church. My friend sitting next to me, witnessing my sighting and then subsequent guilt, reminded me that we were APPRECIATING, not judging...

Wedding Week! (Part III: Freeloaders!)

Have you seen Wedding Crashers? If not, add that to your NetFlix list right now! We all know that there are those people who love to go to weddings - you get to dress up, dance around, eat what is usually an amazing meal, and all you have to do is tell the couple how happy and beautiful the world is with their love in it. Oh, and the booze is usually free flowing.

However, crashing weddings for the good times is tacky. What's even worse is asking the bride and groom to essentially provide a party for your friends.

At the recently attended wedding, the combined five children of the happy couple are all twenty-somethings. Two each invited a date and a family friend. Classy - we're sharing in the day, celebrating, dancing... and genuinely want to be part of the day. The other three... well, let's just say they had a combined TWENTY something guests of their own. This means that the happy couple shelved out AT MINIMUM nearly fifteen hundred dollars for their kids' friends to party.

Asking your parents to throw you a party on their big day? Tacky.

Wedding Week! (Part II: Guest Attire)

What is this? I think I can kinda see where her train of thought was going... "I know, I'll wear a lovely floral print to this spring wedding. And the skirt just isn't enough - we'll do the top, too."

But the end effect? There were more flowers on this dress than there were in the whole wedding. Just like you don't wear a jean jacket with the same tone jeans (ew, denim sandwich) you should also not wear the same print blouse with the same print skirt. It's tacky, you look like you've been attacked by fabric, and people like me point out how awkward you look.

Wedding Week! (Part I: Tats are nasty)

Fine, we've been slacking - but now we're back with a vengeance to cover all things tacky! And I now have excellent fodder for a week's worth of writing as I attended the pinnacle of classy meets tacky this last weekend: a wedding.

No names will be provided, but there will be a picture or two.

Let's start out with a clearly obvious element of tack: tattoos. Sure, they seem like a good idea at the time - you're young, you're wild, you're free - but ladies, one day you will be asked to put on an elegant bridesmaid dress, and no one wants to see that nasty tat you thought was awesome when you were 19. Exhibit A: angle wings? Seriously?



The best part about this photo is that all the bridesmaids were told to wear the accompanying shawl SPECIFICALLY to cover the nasty tat in the church, and here we see it - full on exposure.

Tacky. Tacky. Tacky.

Tacky wrapped in plastic...

TP and I made a recent getaway down to New York City, and let me tell you - that's a great city for spotting both America's classiest and tackiest citizens.

Prime example of classy: museum goers. TP and I ventured to the MOMA during their Friday night open hours and were both so impressed with how many people really embraced the opportunity to see some fantastic art. I was observing a wonderful piece by Seurat when I encountered the other extreme however...

Tacky: synthetic, plastic attire. I'm not even sure what was going on here. It seemed to be a pleather purse slung over a plastic-rubber-shiny-parka thing. I mean - what's going on there? First of all, the whole thing created this kinda plastic glare which is VERY distracting when you're trying to look at art (or really, just do anything...) and it also kept making that noise that plastic makes when it rubs plastic.

Just crazy... and tacky... but amusing, nonetheless...

International Tack!

Maybe the blogging has been a little light recently, but with good reason! It's Spring Break 2009!

Now, the economy has kept the scale of the getaways smaller than prior years, but have no fear - you can find tack wherever you go.

For example, during a family trip to Washington, D.C., my mother and I paid a visit to the very classy, very awesome Newseum. However, even in the most interesting of places you are bound to find some tack. Exhibit A (if you will) is this international theater director who gave a talk on a production of Richard III set in modern day Baghdad. Sounds pretty classy, right? Pretty intellectual? Well... allow me to introduce the wardrobe:



What is going on here? Is that a black and brown STRIPPED shirt paired with a black and brown POLKA DOTTED jacket? Seriously? I mean, I know he's foreign. And I know he's involved in theater. But...

It's still tacky.

One Classy (First) Lady

FANTASTIC! BRILLIANT! OUTSTANDING! I'm speaking, of course, of Michelle Obama's recently released portrait. I can't say enough about this classy lady, so, of course, I'm going to try:

1. She looks great. Pearls? Check. American designer? Check (Michael Kors, and BTW I suspect we wear the same size, so Mr. Kors if you need someone to wear the extra clothes you made for Mrs. Obama, I'll pinch hit). Super fab first lady arms? Check and check.

2. She's a good mom. Her kids seem nice, she dresses them in J.Crew, and most certainly has taught them not to be dependant on a man (I presume, as she was the big earner for a long time, and the mainstay parent while Mr. Prez was winning the White House).

3. She's smart. Like seriously smart. Like move-things-with-her-mind-(myfavorite) Ivy League(s)-educated-while-appropriately-accessorizing-while-backseat-driving-the-country-Smart. I dig that. Also, she's not smart-crazy (yes, I'm speaking of you Phyllis Schafley), or smart-foul mouthed, or smart-loose cannon (you know who you are Samantha Power).

4. This lady is classy. Madonna, take note.

Mrs. Ex-Richie, I don't think you got the message.

Madonna,

Hi, its TP again, we spoke yesterday. I passed your LV ad again. I know you need me to love you, but I just can't. Please stop asking and put your leg down.

K? Thanks. Bye.

TP

P.S. Also, it is a little bit tacky to be shamelessly plugging obscenely expensive clothes in a recession. If you could convince Mr. Jacobs to sell me the black raincoat with pink lining and scalloped sleeves at an 80% discount, I might change my mind. (That was tacky too, but worth a try).

Open Letter to Madonna

Dear Madonna,

You've been fierce your whole life. I'm sure that as a small child you bedazzled your Osh Kosh B'Gosh's so that you were the only kid in the neighborhood with beaded overalls. I know you've been fierce since 1981. You've made a career out of 'reinventing yourself' and selling it.

Because of your nearly three decades of awesomeness, of transcending tack, it pains me to say this: Please put on some pants. It's not that you don't have the body of a weightlifting gazelle--you do. It's not that I can't see your toned hamstrings through your fishnets and see through skirts -- I can. It's just that, as I walked by your ad, posted ten feet high in the window of the Louis Vuitton store, all I could think was: This woman wants attention.

You see, it takes some class to age gracefully (see: Meryl Streep). As women get older, they don't need to be any less fierce to stay on the classy side of the line, they just need to modify their approaches. So when I see you in fishnets, no pants, one platformed-stillettoes-tasseled toe pointing in the air while you rest lightly on a restaurant chair a la Jennifer Beals in Flashdance, I think that you are moving towards the tacky side of the line. Jennifer Beals didn't wear pants too often either -- she was also in her early 20s and hadn't yet had a child, a documentary about sex, or a legal battle over an adorable African quasi-orphan.

So Madonna, please move back toward the classy side of the line and bare those phonebook-tearing arms -- but please please, put on some trousers.

Love,

TP

P.S. Did Marc Jacobs kill a Fraggle to get your skirt/undies/hotpants? I'm not sure that Meryl would wear separates that used to be a Jim Henson character. Just saying. Not judging (this time).

Maybe it just doesn't matter

Dear Guy who went to his locker in the gym hallway in only a towel:

If you did it because you think you're that hot and you want to show off, that's some tacky behavior, sir.

If you did it because you left your clothes in your locker while showering and had no other option, I commend your classy bravery.

Either way - thank you. You made my work out and my morning (and possibly my life) that much more amazing.

XXOO,

ABT

I'd rather ask forgiveness than permission?

There's gonna be some good posting soon... as we speak Oscars are being given out to beautiful people and people are delivering classy/tacky acceptance speeches while adorned in classy/tacky attire. Only time (and TP's analysis) will tell who pulled off what and who didn't.

In the meanwhile, there's some tacky behavior brewing in the local locker room. While I was running yesterday someone took my shampoo and conditioner (which I left out of my locker while I worked out), used them, and then LEFT them in the shower.

This was tacky.

Here's what the shampoo-stealer could have done to not be a heinous tacky actor:
1. She could have not taken my shampoo period. I mean, it's sitting with my shoes neatly stacked under my locker. Clearly it belonged to someone.

2. She could have borrowed it and put it back. I understand - no one wants to be gross all day just because they left their shampoo at home.

3. She could have left a note. This would have been totally classy - sticky note: "Dear friend. I needed shampoo and borrowed yours. You made my day. Thanks!" TP and I are big fans of the thank you note - in any variety.

Instead - she used and abused. Truly tacky behavior.

Inappropriate Spirit Wear

I've always been into school spirit in this really cheesy way. Voted "Most Spirited" member of my high school graduating class, I could cheer on our pathetic football team no matter how often they disappointed others. In an earlier post, I discussed that I attended a large "football school" in the South for my undergraduate degree, and here I felt at home. How great is it to be perfectly classy to wear a t-shirt with your school's logo on it nearly every day? Totally acceptable.

But ladies and gentlemen... there is a line between school spirit (classy - maybe even at times tacky turned classy) and TRASH. And Victoria's Secret has gone far beyond into no man's land.

Allow me to introduce the Pink "Collegiate Line" - now, not everything is terrible. The hoodies, sweatpants, and flip flops seem like fine, every day spirit wear. The type you could always get at your school bookstore.

What blows my mind are the panties and above all else the swimwear. I mean, SERIOUSLY? What is that thing?

Now, confession, I do wear special underwear on Game Day. Yes, it does correspond to school colors and yes, I am superstitious about it. However, this is just TACKY.

When I first found this I immediately pointed it out to TP who made another important observation. Her alma mater (a nice, classy joint part of this little thing we refer to as the Ivy League) had apparently taken the classy road out and is not represented in the VS collection. In fact the majority of schools that are come from either the South or the Midwest and have large followings of fans who are not actually alum or students.

This leads to quick gripe on which I will end this post:

How do tacky, trashy fans who can't even get INTO my alma mater keep making it look so tacky and trashy?

Happy Valentine's Day! Celebrate without TACK!

Oh Valentine's Day... here you are again. People love you, people hate you, and yet you keep coming back. Obviously, there are some strong opinions about Valentine's Day out there. Plenty of Anti-V'Day parties both for singles and couples, but then again... I think I'll just wear a pink sweater and eat some conversation hearts for good measure.

Like any other holiday that involves the suggestion of gift giving, V'Day is often marked by some tacky behavior. I could write pages on how a fifteen dollar hot pink bear from CVS is a tacky gift, but instead I want to focus on something that came up twice in conversation about gift yesterday among my friends:

It is tacky for women to expect gifts of jewelry that their significant others can not afford.

In turn, it is very classy to accept small tokens now and build on that in the future of your relationship.

My conversations on this topic yesterday included a story of a girl telling their boyfriend to "get another credit card" to finance an engagement ring. Tacky. Then again, there is the couple who have a very modest engagement ring even though the girl's family have given her very expensive jewlery her whole life. Pretty classy.

So ladies, even if you have champagne taste, maybe remember what Valentine's Day is supposed to be about (candy and Hallmark Cards... I mean Love!!) and avoid the tack.

How to not be tacky while at a Sporting Event (Part I)

I love sports. I'm a huge sports fan, and I was even voted "Most Spirited" of my graduating high school class. I can pretty much cheer for any team, any sports event, any time. I also recognize that there are certain rules of order to being a sports spectator. For example, having attended a big Southern University, I recognize that sometimes pearls, high heals, and black and red cocktail dresses are "sports" attire. Other times full out body paint is what is called for by all senses of propriety.

So when do you know if you're being a tacky spectator when there's such a range of acceptability?

Well, for starters - look around. Where are you? If you're in a stadium full of Red & Black, Purple & Gold, or any other sea of two-color dedication save for you in a day-glow sweater... well, if the tack fits...

Or, if you're at a high school hockey game and you come dressed full on fur...
my dear, tacky. And here's why: while I have put on pearls and kitten heels to watch sweaty men run around a field, it was appropriate. But when you're the only one dressed up (and you're not even in a team color!) you're just being tacky. And snobby. You may think you're classy, but the only message you're sending is that you're too good for the game.

Don't ever disrespect the game.

So find yourself a fleece in your kids' team colors and start cheering, lady!

And wearing a dead animal all around you is tacky all the time, any ways...

In honor of V'Day

I love love. In honor Valentine's Day (which will almost certainly provide much fodder for discussion here at OtoO), I thought I'd take a moment to write about one of the many possibilities for tacky when it comes to romantic moments.

I'm an absolute romantic who falls for cheesy lines every time. I think there is nothing more fun than walking around holding hands or having any of those other perfect moments of being in love. I think it's cute when you see old couples out on dates, and it always makes me smile to see the world happy and in love. (Okay, so maybe not right after a break up - but usually, I'm pretty romantic...).

HOWEVER - excessive PDA is TACKY TACKY TACKY. See above for descriptions of exhibiting your feelings of affection when in public. Holding hands, the occasional kiss (even the really serious kind), flirting - all okay.

But it crosses the line when I start to get a sense of how your sex life is. No one wants to see you GROPE your partner. No one wants to see tongue while you're kissing at a restaurant. I certainly do not want to hear you moan on public transportation.

Spread the love. NOT the tack.

Sticky Tack

Bad breath is bad manners, and I fully encourage all remedial action, but what could be tackier than the open-mouthed snapping of your gum?

I once heard Oprah talk about how she wouldn't let anyone with chewing gum into her house as a guest. Oprah, I love you. I might not go that far, but I absolutely get where you're coming from.

I mean - have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone who chews gum with their mouth part-way open, snap, snap, snapping away? It's like watching a cow chew cud. And you can't stop staring... And then, oh and then, there is the playing with your gum. Why on earth would you think it's attractive or sexy to pull out something you're CHEWING with your finger in the middle of public? It's nasty and tacky.

So ladies and gentlemen, by all means - chew some gum. Freshen your breath, curb your hunger, and get a pick-me-up. But please - do not share it with the rest of us.

Tacky Stuff: Current Events

Let me be clear: Michelle Obama is not tacky. I'm slightly obsessed with her fashion sense, her alma maters and how well-adjusted her children seem. I think she's smart and great. What is not smart and great is US weekly. US weekly, this week, is tacky (that is, more tacky than its normally acceptable hum of tackiness).

The problem? President Barack Obama was in this picture. He goes on the right where you see that unclaimed swatch of of white fabric. Where is he on this cover? Cabinet meeting? G8 Summit? Alfalfa club dinner? Using the White House basketball court? No. He's under Jessica Simpson's mom-jeans. US WEEKLY CROPPED OUT THE PRESIDENT TO CALL JSIMP FAT ON THE COVER OF THE MAGAZINE.

I'll repeat, the magazine cropped out the president to call a woman fat on the cover of the magazine. Its tacky to crop a man out of a family picture. Its tacky to call women fat. Its tacky to call a woman fat while publishing a wholesome article on a wholesome family. There is not enough expressions of tackiness to cover this one.

You don't sound important, you just sound tacky

TP and I have the grand luxury of being grad students. One of the grand things about being a grad student and the authors of this blog is that we are allowed access to one of the largest groups of tacky people: the undergraduate population of a large, urban university.

Hopefully soon we will start bringing you photographic evidence of many of the violations of polite behavior, but for today's lesson in classy behavior we have an observation to report:

Speaking so loudly that an entire student union is forced to listen to you recounting what "fake-Niki" and was doing on whatever show you were watching is Tacky. So is talking that loudly in general. I don't care what you did last Friday night, I don't care what your best friend told your boyfriend, and talking that loudly about ANY personal aspect of your life is tacky.

And don't come at with me saying, "oh, but I have a loud voice!" Anyone can take it down a notch, and when airing ANY laundry (dirty or not), have the decency and manners to hush up.

How to not be tacky while dining (Part I)

Being classy is not about having a lot of cash. Goodness knows you can be making the big bucks and still be one tacky, flashy, gaudy hot mess. You can also be scraping by as a lowly grad student and manage to be mighty classy in both appearance and behavior.

Today's tacky tale: the bad tipper.

I have heard every argument about why it's not essential to leave a good tip. Yes, I realize they don't do it in Europe, but the point is that those men and women bring you your burger, your steak, your beer, your wine, or whatever it is you ordered are working their BUTTS off for $2.15 an hour. You don't have to be paid minimum wage when your employer can demonstrate that you have the opportunity to make it in tips. And your waitress is already automatically having money deducted from her nightly tips to pay out the kitchen, the bartender, and the hostess.

So how tacky is it for your little pampered butt to assume that 10% is adequate?

But the tackiest of the tack is when you go out to a nice meal to impress someone and then SKIMP on the tip to save YOU some cash.

Now, maybe it's tacky for some restaurants to automatically add in gratuity, but honestly - you should probably be tipping at least that. Have you ever tried to wait on a table of four couples and three single friends who want split checks but shared wine? Damn straight that waiter gets at LEAST 18%.

Going out for nice dinners is a way to treat yourself right. Avoid the tack and budget in for that extra 18-20%. I promise, if someone catches you undertipping they will be HORRIFIED (especially if they are an alum of the fine fellowship of waitstaff), but if you overtip all they will be left to think is: damn, that's one classy guy.

Tacksequiteur: Networking

Networking is a good idea. Any head hunter or career advisor will tell you that. Generally speaking it is a very classy thing to do to walk up to a stranger, make friends, hand over your business card, and begin a long friendship over two martini lunches. Using people, however, is a bad idea. It is a tacky thing to do. Using people as a means to your ends devalues the other person, and, generally speaking reflects badly on the user.



Which is why I'm puzzled: when did networking become synonymous with using people? If you, dear Networker, are interested in someone merely for what they can do for you, know that it comes through, and that I think its tacky.

Celebritack

I think Jennifer Lopez is very tacky and not in a good way. Disclaimer: I'm sure she's a very nice woman with lots of lovely things (besides Rite Aid perfume and denim jumpsuits) to contribute to the world.

It has taken me a while to come to this conclusion. When she was dating P.Diddy and all "Jenny from the block" I thought, "How nice, that girl used to be on In Living Color. She has made a little career for herself, and Is remembering where she came from." When she was dating Ben Affleck, I thought, "Those people are strangely shiny, and why are they always wearing sunglasses." Then, "Diamonds come in pink?"

It was weird when she quickly married Marc Anthony (is that how you spell it?) and I began to suspect something tacky was happening when the albums stopped, the movies stopped, yet J. Lo. persisted in showing up on red carpets in stilletos dunked in gold. Then she was 9 months pregnant in stilletos dunked in gold.

And then, the Golden Globes. This, for me, was the nail in her coffin of tack. I don't need to see that much of a middle aged lady's boobies. I mean I get that she's trying to be fierce. But she has kids; two of them. I'm all for the hot momma vibe, but I think this is trying to hard.

Also why is she always so shiny?

I am not a mean person, and I would never claim that one person's decade of outfits relegates her to tackdom for all eternity. She could make the move from tacky to classy fairly easily.

1. Smile. I don't think she realizes that she doesn't look as fierce as she think she does.
2. Be less shiny. Hair/clothes/skin/shoes/makeup isn't usually that iridescent. Maybe have a 'one shiny thing' rule.

3. Help people when cameras aren't watching.

Photo From:

http://www.usmagazine.com/news/love-it-or-hate-it-jennifer-lopezs-golden-globes-style

Status: Tacky

Facebook is a wonderful thing. It keeps you connected to old friends, it helps you check out potential dates, and it allows you free range to secretly judge the tackyness of your friends (and frenemies!). Sure, it's a little judgy, but we're just trying to make it all better by showing the error of our ways...

So Tacky Facebook Complaint #1: The Significant Other Status Message

I love when my friends have great relationships, and I think it's adorable when romantic moments inspire the occasional sweet shout out message. However, involving your 400+ closest friends about every moment of your relationship is, well, tacky.

If your boyfriend is out of state working on an oil field far, far away or if your girlfriend is off serving our country, you may absolutely post how much you miss them. If your boyfriend has been at work for six hours, you may not post how much you miss him. Tacky.

It is tacky to post about the way your boyfriend or girlfriend smells. It is tacky to post about how you love playing house. Man up (or woman up) and stop sharing. It's just tacky.

When tacky is classy?

Definitions of tacky usually include lacking style, being gaudy, being too showy, not involving good taste, etc.

Now, there are some people who are almost always tacky and some people who are almost always classy. Aretha Franklin clearly fits into the the later (I mean, RESPECT!), but today she ventured into territory that must be discussed: when can tacky be classy?

At the VERY classy inauguration of a VERY classy man, the dynamic diva belted out "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and it was fantastic. I'd expect no less from the Queen of Soul. But that bow on her hat... well, it was almost as big as her voice - and that' BIG!

Tacky? Classy?

I personally am going to vote classy. It might be gaudy, it might be flashy, it might even be tacky on anyone else. But when you're Aretha - it's classy.

Photo from:
Photo: Ron Edmonds/ AP
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/alltherage/2009/01/inaugural-hat-t.html

Tacky Stuff: Current Events

Flubbing the oath of office when you're Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.

Giving a cake but eating it, too!

I've always thought it was classy to bring something with you when you go to someone's house for dinner or a party. While any good host or hostess will tell you not to worry about it, secretly he or she may be judging you for arriving empty handed.

While there are the obstacles standing in the way of the appropriate gift (flowers or chocolates? wine or beer? red or white? does this go with what we're eating?) there is one absolute no-no...

Do not bring half-a-dish.

Over the holidays my parents hosted a nice holiday dinner party. Food and wine were plentiful, but most guests (being the classy people my parents associate with) still came with wine, appetizers, and small gifts in hand.

And then there was one half of a chocolate cake. No sad story that part of the cake had fallen apart during baking, no excuse that the kids got to the cake before she could... this guest just really wanted to keep the other half for ANOTHER party.

Two parties + One cake = Tacky

Old School: The thank you (note)

I believe in saying thank you. My mom taught me that, so did my grandma, so did my dad. Pretty much all the nice people I knew when I was little taught me to say thank you. Thank you blogspot for hosting our blog, thank you ABT for being my friend. So the lack of prevalence of thank yous in this northern climate confounds me. This is the first of many posts on Tacky P's opinion on the thank you.

Disclaimer: not all thankyous must come in notes on fine stationary (although many should). There is a hierarchy of thankyous:

1. Verbal
2. Text (my least favorite)
3. AIM (second least favorite)
4. Gchat
5. Email
6. Phone call
7. Note

To be continued....

We're now on the 'internets.'

Maybe we're the last ladies living who feel like people want to read what we think on the internet. Maybe we woke up and noticed how deeply offensive society is. Maybe we should stop thinking about things that won't earn us salaries or repay student loans. Anyway, we noticed that more and more of the world is starting to offend our twenty something sensibilities. Tack is often bad and sometimes good but its everywhere, and we are going to tell you about it.