Tag Archives: old school

miss piggy, c’est moi

When I was a kid my sister and I were in possession of a hardback book with a powder-pink cover which taught me several very important things about being a woman — the importance of perseverance in the face of adversity, the proper use of the word “moi,” and that it’s completely acceptable to wear cocktail rings on top of your elbow-length lavender satin gloves.

Yeah.  Everything I know about being a lady I learned from Miss Piggy.

Photos of the book from Rad Library.  Nostalgia flooding back…and I’m still all about aping Piggy’s Chinese Banquet “recipe.”

Really though.  Miss Piggy is a total badass.  She was a feminist icon and a fashion icon long before you would ever have expected the twain to meet.  She was Samantha Jones long before Kim Cattrall stepped into those Choos and started “oooh, honey”ing all over New York City.  She was sexy, take-charge, and in control from the get-go, in a time when that kind of behavior was still taboo for women.  And the fact that Piggy did all this while being a puppet with a man’s hand up her ass is…well, it’s a pretty sweet metaphor, if nothing else.


Porcine perfection.  I want to know who designs her costumes.  The “Pigs In Space” getup has always been a favorite of mine and totally puts any astronaut gear Barbie has ever worn to shame.


Can we talk about Miss Piggy for President on the cover of Life back in 1980?  Or Miss Piggy writing about women in the workforce for The Saturday Evening Post in 1981?  Or what about Miss Piggy getting all fucking nu-Jayne Mansfield on the cover of TV Guide, also in ’81?  Piggy was a media juggernaut before media juggernauts even existed.  She could probably teach the Kardashians a thing or two about self-promotion.

Just.  Stop.  This is perfection.

Miss Piggy was brought onto “The Muppet Show” in the mid-’70s as a minor character, but quickly proved to be a huge hit with viewers.  In the late ’70s and early ’80s there was full-on Miss Piggy mania as her popularity eclipsed the other Muppets’ (even Kermit, the amphibian object of her affections — bittersweet, Piggy, non?).  Miss Piggy’s Guide To Life hit the New York Times bestseller list in 1981, an honor no other Muppet book had achieved.    Frank Oz, Piggy’s longtime voice and operator, has said that she is one of the few Muppets in the cast who has a fully realized, three-dimensional character.  She even has a heartwrenching backstory — with a father who died young and a disinterested mother, Piggy had to enter beauty contests to survive.  In an interview with the New York Times in 1976, Oz said that Piggy “has a lot of vulnerability which she has to hide.”  Rings kinda true, doesn’t it?


There’s just something about that pig, man.  In a way, I really think Miss Piggy’s psyche (and yes, I am talking about the psychological makeup of a Muppet, thank you very much) is relevant to a lot of young women today, and to the way we struggle with feminism and acceptance in a man’s world.  Miss Piggy is headstrong and independent, she’ll do anything to get what she wants, and she’s not afraid to speak her mind, but she also wants to look sexy and be desired, and as the lone woman in a “boy’s club,” she harbors a strong internal need for attention that seems almost contradictory to her trademark confidence.  Sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it?

Miss Piggy has fallen out of the public eye since the ’90s but I will always have a soft spot in my heart for her, so I’m pretty excited for the new Muppet movie coming out in November (and maybe also a little excited because my movie boyfriend, Jason Segel, is involved).  As if that wasn’t enough to get me all hyped up, yesterday I learned that OPI has teamed up with Disney with a new line of Muppet-themed nail polishes for holiday 2011, so I can celebrate my Miss Piggy love in Muppet-approved fashion.

Just stop!  They’re all perfect!  But the pink, magenta, and red glitter shades are all specifically Miss Piggy-themed (“Excuse Moi!,” “Divine Swine,” and “Gettin Miss Piggy With It,” respectively) and they are also — naturally — my favorites.

I’ll leave you with this.  Kissy-kissy!

summertime girl groups mix tape


Either ’60s girl groups put me in a summer mood, or summer puts me in a ’60s girl groups mood — whichever it is, I figured I’d share a summer mix tape with you guys.  These are all ’60s girl songs, mostly about boys and summer and love and dancing, and they all feel so summery to me they practically smell like Banana Boat.  Every song is totally danceable —  put this mix on at your next barbecue, bonfire, or beach blanket bingo sesh.

Summertime Girl Groups Mix Tape via Mediafire — sort by date to get them in the order below:

1. Lookin’ For Boys – The Pinups
2. He Was Really Sayin’ Somethin’ – The Velvelettes
3. Boys – The Shirelles
4. Dream Boy – Jackie DeShannon
5. She Don’t Deserve You – The Honey Bees
6. I’m Gonna Destroy That Boy – The What Four
7. Steady Boyfriend – April Young
8. Needle in a Haystack – The Velvelettes
9. I Have A Boyfriend – The Chiffons
10. Funnel Of Love – Wanda Jackson
11. Don’t Ever Leave Me – Connie Francis
12. Sophisticated Boom Boom – The Goodies
13. Egyptian Shumba – The Tammys

Enjoy!  ♥

barbie girl


Contrary to what my euphoric expression in the above photo might lead you to believe, I was never big into Barbies as a kid, choosing instead to split my time between My Little Pony and a pretty epic Brio wooden train set.  Still, as you may recall, when I came across the “Doll For A Day” plastic headband in the Barbie Collector catalog,  I was like, I want that.

So I got it.  And, just as I suspected, it’s totes cute.


I’m still not a big Barbie fan though.  She seems kind of stuck-up.


H&M Divided leopard cardigan, Old Navy trapeze dress, Stop Staring! patent belt, glasses and Breckelle’s aqua suedette platforms from the Del Amo Indoor Swapmeet, Forever 21 scarf, Barbie Collector headband

original hipsters

Going through some old photos last night I came across this picture and it’s so summery and funny I had to share it with you guys.  This is (from left to right) my sister Emily, me, and our cousin Retta at Lake Powell in the summer of 1988.

Doesn’t it look like we’re having the most fun in the world? Plus we look like some major hipsters.  If we were twenty years older in this photo it would be reblogged on Tumblr a million times.

Kind of makes me wish I still had that whole outfit.  The upside-down oversized heart-shaped sunglasses are a good look.

prized possession

My green punk sweater is the oldest thing in my wardrobe.  I’ve had it for ten years and it’s one of my favorite things.  Recently I brought it out of retirement and I think I love it even more now than I did when I was in high school.

I bought it at Galaxy Exchange in Costa Mesa when I was 15, the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school.  My mom had given me $150 to go back-to-school shopping and when I came across this E.C. Star cardigan on the one rack of new clothes in the place, I think I actually caught my breath.  It had gas masks and radioactive symbols embroidered on it and I thought it was incredibly cool.

The only evidence left that this cardigan once had gas masks on it.

It was also $58.00, which at the time was more than I had ever spent on a single item of clothing.  I wanted it, but buying it meant blowing almost half of my back-to-school wardrobe budget.  I put it on hold and left and hit up a few other stores, but in the end I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I went back and plunked down three twenties and some change.  I was going to look so rad on the first day of school.  And I did.  Everyone complimented me on my amazing cardigan, and I was like, Aww, yeah.  Best sixty bucks I ever spent.

A year or so later all my friends had cool leather jackets covered with patches and studs and band logos painted on with special paint and I was totally jealous and my gas mask cardigan didn’t seem so cool anymore.  I knew my own leather jacket was totally out of the question (that would come later), but I had a couple cool patches and nothing to stick them on.  The solution was clear.

After that, I was golden.  I was of the opinion that my hand-painted Richard Hell patch made me the coolest ’77 kid around.  Other punks had their leathers and denims.  I had my green cardigan.  I was rarely without it.  I posted photos of myself wearing it in the old punk_fashion LiveJournal community (where my p_f’ers at?) and for years afterwards I got emails from girls, total strangers, offering me money for it.  No amount of money could pry this thing off me.  It was the punkest thing I owned.  It was practically part of my identity.

I sewed my patches on with dental floss, the tru punx way.  Dry clean only?  Yeah, right.

At some point, maybe around when I hit 21, I thought it was about time to retire the cardigan.  I had just gotten my grown-up office job and I was trying to be more chic and adult in general and wearing the green punk sweater made me feel like a kid, so I relegated it to the back of my closet.  But I could never quite bring myself to get rid of it.  I moved twice and both times the cardigan came with me.

Then, about a month ago, I opened my closet and saw it winking at me from where it’d been hanging out in the back for three years.  I was about to head out on a short tour with Cunt Sparrer and had generally been feeling like my 25th year was definitely the most punk rock year of my life so far.  Why not dust off the old green sweater and trot it out?

Putting it on felt like being with an old friend again.  It fit perfect.  I still remembered the way it felt, how the buttons are a little tight in the buttonholes, how it hangs just a little funny from years of washing when it was really meant to be dry-cleaned.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  Yes, I thought.  I missed you.

I brought it with me on Cunt Sparrer’s jaunt up to Tahoe, Sacramento, and San Francisco at the beginning of this month.  There’s something a little full-circle about wearing my ten-year-old punk sweater and playing the punk songs I fell in love with ten years ago, and I’m so glad I never got rid of it.  I know I’ll hold onto this thing forever.  I like the idea of giving it to my kid one day, but honestly I’ll probably never be able to part with it.