Yes, Fashion Week was last week! And I’m still not cool enough…
However, instead of just raising my eyebrow at questionable choices, I’m choosing to celebrate that the first ever plus-size fashion show was seen during fashion week this year!!! Even if they weren’t invited to participate in the main event!!! Even if they set-up their show on the sidelines!!! Yay to equality!!!
The fashion show was sponsored by One Stop Plus. For those of you too thin to shop there, it’s where you can (in one stop) get all sorts of plus-size clothes like this hideous tunic from Avenue…
OMG Ugly
Or this god-awful denim ruffle skirt…
Why would you do this to someone?
Admittedly, with some digging you can find some cute clothes, so yes, I’m just being a wee bit ornery.
On the flip side, the Plus-Size Fashion Show wasn’t nearly as eye-catching. No one talked about it’s artistry. No one said, “Lane Bryant outdid itself with it’s airy, but bold choice of ruffles and color. Film Noir influenced and interpreted for Fall.”
Yeah, no one said that.
That’s because because it was more like a prêt-à-porter mall fashion show done at a more expensive location and prettier models. There was no artistry. There were no outfits that made you sigh. It was done because it was far past time, but I honestly think I could have pulled the clothes for this event, and that isn’t what I want to see during fashion week.
For an event that happened Wednesday (9/15), pictures weren’t available until Friday (9/17). I think the organizers probably knew it was lacking as well. It could be because it didn’t just showcase one designer. It could be because you can find the outfits on the website. Or it could be that the media was so focused on the fact that there was a plus-size fashion show it didn’t matter to them whether there was good fashion or round chicks in gunny sacks and Payless heels. This year, it was a big damn deal that we were represented. Hey, it’s a good first step. Next year, let’s try taking a leap.
Regardless, I’ve gone through many of the other show pics and have decided what I would like to showcase in this blog entry are those fashions (the ones that got oooh and aaahhed over this week) that I think COULD be plus-size outfits with the right tweaking. And I’ve been a chunky all my life. And I’m a chunky that doesn’t wear clothes that are too tight or cling, so I don’t think I’m living a dream.
Ok. We couldn’t wear ANY of this.
When did pants go out of style?
Because I am the type of person who should always wear pants.
In my selections I used the following parameters:
1) The line of the outfit and how I imagined it across my own body (with its many, many flaws). I did not choose items that just had tons of fabric. No plus size woman wants to wear a muu muu no matter how expensive or colorful the material.
2) Minimal tweaking to adapt the outfit for larger bodies
3) Color, beauty and practicality – something you could wear on the street, but was still artistic and spunky or beautiful. Something you’d get excited about being seen in.
Also, as a side note, when I say “body displacement” I am speaking of what a larger woman’s body does when she sits. The weight distributes itself differently with every woman (and not only larger women suffer from it). It’s one reason I don’t like to be photographed seated.**
I am aware every plus-size woman, well, every woman for that matter, would not be able to wear all of these dresses. I’ve used my best judgement, keeping in mind that we all have our assets and limitations.
So here we go! My choices for the best of the runway that COULD BE PLUS-SIZE FASHION!
Starting with:
Marc Jacobs announced that he would be designing a plus-size line, becoming the FIRST top designer to do so! A round of applause for Mr. Jacobs. I wholeheartedly hope that when he designs for us, he treats us as he would thinner women by designing wonderful garments for us like these…
I know some people will argue that if you change ANYTHING about a dress you bastardize the designer’s artistry. But if I were a famous, rich person would the designer make changes to better suit me? If I said, “Marc, ADORE that brown and pink halter dress but my upper thigh is not where I want it to be. Could you close the slit a little for me. Oh yes, here’s a $1,000.” Do you think he would say, “NO! My ARTISTRY!”
I do believe designers are artists, just as I believe chefs, musicians, actors, painters, etc., are all artists. I’ve been reading articles about how designers don’t want to design for the plus-size body because it’s too difficult. In my art form, we look for challenges. I want the next role that will make me see and experience the world differently. I mean, why shy away from a challenge?
So, if you made it this far you’ve seen the regular info. The generic who, what, when, etc. So at this point, you’re wanting a little bit more. You’re trying to figure out if this event is worth your time and money. I say, enthusiastically, “YES!” – but I’m biased.
Maybe you have these kinds of questions…
What are you going to be singing?
Let me assure you that many of the songs you will know. I just want to keep the song list close because I like surprises so I’m hoping you do as well. But there’s lots of potential. I mean, think about it. If Julie Andrews played the character more than likely I never will. So it’s fair game.
How is it a One-Woman Show if others are joining you? I totally believe in friendsploitation. It’s where the “Plus” comes in.
How did you come up with the concept for “Short, Round & Brown?” In April I attended a Ghostlight fundraiser called “Showtuneapalooza” and decided to only sings songs I’d never get to play in real life. I thought the premise was funny and I parlayed the idea into a show. And now I’m just hoping people will come see it. But really, let’s face it. I am all three of those things.
You’ve convinced me. How do I get tickets? YAY! You can get tickets at the door. Email cristela.carrizales@gmail.com if you want to get on some kind of reservation list that I hope I’ll need because so many people want to see the show.
So the details again… in case you forgot…
Short, Round & Brown … One Woman. Plus.
September 9, 10 & 11 @ 8:00pm
Ghostlight Theatre Club, 3110 N. Walker (in the Paseo)
$10
cristela.carrizales@gmail.com
Wow. Can’t believe this is really going to happen! I’ve been working with the illustrious Steve Kennedy (the dude behind the piano magic in Ghostlight’s [title of show] this past spring) on songs and it’s coming along like a dream! At first I didn’t have enough songs, now I’m afraid I have too many.
Not to worry, he won’t let me bore you.
So the good stuff – dates, etc:
September 9, 10, 11
Ghostlight Theatre Club
3110 N. Walker, in the Paseo district
8pm
I’m currently addicted to food blogs. I know what some of you are thinking, “Quelle surprise.” Or “Go figure.” But it’s not necessarily like that. On the contrary, it could be exactly that. I’m too busy to find out.
I’m particularly addicted to the ones whose photographs make their lives at brunch appear to be a layout from “Real Simple” magazine. I’m listening to my Robbie Williams station on Pandora right now. Ladies and Gentlemen, this could mean trouble.
Generally these blogs are written from happy people who live in climates where they can actually go outside and enjoy their patios. If I walk onto mine right now I’ll burn my ass and get eaten alive by mosquitoes. Plus, it needs to be straightened. My life is not Real Simple.
What I’d like to do is walk into a clean kitchen with several punnets of various summer berries and create a delicious lemon scented berry cobbler encased in an egg-washed, sugar sprinkled homemade pie crust with a scoop of homemade honey lavender ice cream. I’d also like to make a baked tomato sauce made with breadcrumbs, roasted garlic, fresh basil and freshly grated Parmesan. I want the windows open while I listen to mellow jazz as the 72 degree wind blows through. All the while drinking crisp, fuity pinot grigo or white sangria. And I want pretty pictures of the whole thing. I may rent a curly-headed child to wear a gingham dress and run laughing barefoot through my grass just to complete my food blog fantasy.
It’s not that I even want to eat all that. Well, duh of course I do. But I want what cooking like that represents – FREE TIME. Relaxation. Time spent with friends and family that doesn’t have an agenda attached to it (i.e., rehearsal).
Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for all the projects in my life. I’m grateful that folks want me in their projects. And I did this to myself, so I’m not asking for pity. Just an afternoon to piddle around in my kitchen. Maybe in some yoga outfit I picked out for relaxation purposes… I own some pants…
“Bitter Sweet Symphony” is currently playing on Pandora. Is this some kind of Pandora subliminal message?
I think I should make homemade pancakes soon. TWO food blogs gave me pancake recipes and I think that means that I should make them. With fresh berries. And toasted pecans.
You know, I think I have an idea. I announce it here:
MY GOAL IS TO RECREATE BLOG RECIPES AND THEN POST A SIDE-BY-SIDE COMPARISON OF THE ORIGINAL vs MINE.
I don’t have one of those purdy cameras, so that should add to the “rustic,” non-professional nature of my endeavor.
Hey, I’m kind of excited. If for no other reason than I might get those pancakes…
I feel I should insert a picture of food here. This is probably one of the only things I actually have a picture of that I cooked. Get ready people, you have more of this craptacular stuff coming your way!!!
The show is over. It was a great show. And I was fortunate to be a part of it, especially considering how much I sucked at the audition.
In the show, Heidi (Emily’s character) has a song she sings called “A Way Back To Then.” It’s about, in my opinion, those dreams we have about our lives when we’re young that get sidetracked when “life” begins. Then suddenly, something unexpected happens and we’re back.
Emily asked us to write something for the program about our “Way Back To Then” experience. Here’s mine:
Between April 2002 and February 2008, I went through a Theatre Sahara. The girl that had been doing constant theatre since her freshman year in high school did basically nothing for 6 years. Why? Life. I married a military man. We lived in the barren theatre wasteland called San Antonio until we moved to the UK. I lived close enough to London to see shows, but too far to try and work there. And when the lights would go down in those West End theatres my heart would flutter with sad excitement. So excited to see my first love. So sad to be on the wrong side of the curtain.
I know it sounds haughty to consider myself an artist, but I do. Often I wondered if I could still call myself an artist if I wasn’t producing my art. Was I The Cristela, formerly known as artist?
When it was time to move from England, I had only two criteria for where I wanted to live: 1) closer to our families and 2) have some sort of theatre scene. I didn’t really care, so long as I could at least get out there and try to perform again.
Honestly, I was petrified that I was no longer any good. That in those 6 years, any talent I had was gone. But (and I know this sounds melodramatic) a piece of my soul had been missing those 6 years and I wanted it back. When I saw the posting for Ghostlight’s show All In The Timing, I forced myself out the door, walked in literally off the street without knowing a soul and got cast. It was freaking awesome.
Since then, I’ve been fortunate enough to work in OKC fairly consistently and can say, without hesitation, that I have enjoyed the two most artistically fulfilling years ever. I’ve played a myriad of characters, from absurd to heart-breaking, produced, delved into new artistic challenges, received kudos from my performances, made great new friends and have been having a damn fine time doing it.
Post Theatre Sahara, for me it is no longer about where you do your art, but that you do your art. As long as you share your soul, someone will appreciate it. Before coming to OKC, I would have never realized what a thriving artistic community is here – and it grows everyday. It grows, because you come and support it. The artist thanks you.
[title of show] at Ghostlight Theatre Club. Photo by Victoria Stahl.
Clockwise: Christopher Robinson as Hunter, Scott Hynes as Jeff,
Cristela Carrizales as Susan and Emily Etherton as Heidi.
Sometimes Advisors Get PRIZES (that they play with to get through Conferences)
So, here we go. A smattering of what I’d like to say to some of my students, but don’t. This could very well be an on-going series. There is never a shortage of material…
Dear Student,
“No” is, in fact, one of my least favorite answers. Yes, I promise. That said, you asking the SAME question three times in a row will not illicit a different response. I’ll just say “No” to you all three times, but I might try different accents.
Dear Student,
Please explain to me how you can be armed with all the information you need to answer those questions and still not be able to think?
Dear Student,
Listen closely. I’m going to open my mouth and sounds are going to come out. Those sounds will form words. Those words will explain our process. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Dear Student,
You are 22 years old. While studies show that you may not be old enough to fully think through the consequences of your actions rationally, you are old enough to e-mail me yourself about your collegiate future. Quit getting Mommy to do it.
Dear Student,
God <3 ya. You aren’t crying because MGT may fill. You’re crying for other reasons & I can’t help you with those. I wish I could.
Dear Student,
I do not work on Thursday nights at 8 or Saturday mornings at 8. Keep your pants on.
Dear Student,
Yes. I understand I didn’t give you the answer you wanted to hear. How about you try listening to the answer I gave you.
Dear Student,
We speak the same language. I know I speak it better than you, so listen and follow closely. Vapid expressions piss me off…
Dear Parents of Millennials,
College is where your children get to practice being an adult & prepare for life. How about letting them try?
Four is apparently my magic number this theatre season in the O to the K to the C.
Fat Pig – 4
Two Rooms – 4
[title of show] – 4
AND… drumroll… I’ve only played one character in EACH SHOW! WHA?? Amazing, I know. AANNDD … … It’s my FIRST Musical in EIGHT YEARS!!! Woot! Break it down now…!
So, I’ve been watching the [title of show] show on YouTube. I know two things: 1) I want to visit NYC and 2) I’m the physical opposite of the real-life person my “character” (Susan) is based on.
She is tall. I am short. She is narrow. I am wide. She is Caucasian. I am Mexican-American.
I’m about as “opposite but in the same arena” as you can get from a person. If we widened the arena to include 87-year-old, short, black men, well then that would probably maximize your polar opposite potential.
Don’t believe me? Take a look:
And now for something TOTALLY different…
But we are both quirky. We are both handsome ladies. I don’t care that much about monkeys but gay men to tend to like me. So, I guess there are parallels. Of course those parallels look more like this: //
Yes. That was a short joke. Wait for them, they are everywhere in Ghostlight’s [title of show]. Our Hunter? 6’5″.
No, I’m not dying. Well, not in the immediate sense anyway.
It’s just that this month my mind has floated to it a few times. The show I’m in talks about death, my cousin’s funeral, friends have lost loved ones. It’s been a bittersweet month.
Eddy and I have talked about what we wanted at our funerals. In fact, I made him put in writing where he wanted to be buried, because every family is different and I didn’t want to argue with his Mom about his wishes. I know what he wants – to be buried in a National Cemetery, especially if he dies in the line of duty.
I want to be cremated and buried under some tree in a forest. Okay, if Eddy and I do end up doing that “together forever” thing and he goes first, put my shoebox on top of him.
But honestly, I want to go out the cheapest way possible. I’ve actually considered donating my body to science so that my family is out zero money. That whole crime lab thing in TN looks interesting too.
If my closest family members need to say goodbye to my body then okay. That’s fine. But not everyone needs to. Or I don’t need them to. And I don’t need anyone to feel obligated to tend my graveside. I believe the ones we love stay with us. My grandmother is far more in my heart than in a field in South Dallas.
So burn me but don’t keep any of me. Don’t put me in a box and drag me all over town. And please dear God don’t let a herd of people see me in said box looking my worst. Can you imagine what my double chin would look like lying on my back like that? Ugh.
Harvest my organs at will. In fact, I demand that if there is anything reusable about me, take it. It’s not like I need it later. If I find out someone didn’t use a reusable piece, I’m coming back down and dying again.
I heard recently about a man who passed away and instead of a regular formal funeral, his family hosted a party. They rented out a ballroom at Dallas’ Informart and played music and had an open bar.
That’s how I want to go out. If any money is going to be spent upon the occasion of my death, I want it to be on a kick-ass party. Serve my favorite Mexican and German beer. Get a DJ. NO sad songs. NO “Amazing Grace.” Mexican food. Drink, dance and be merry. Share warm memories of me (if I’ve left you any) and remember me how I want to be remembered – La Party Girl. Share pictures of me smiling and having fun. Photoshop a few so I can look hot.
Choose to celebrate my time here; try not to mourn the fact that I am gone.
In the meantime, I’m going to choose to live it up…
If you aren't old or a biker, Eureka Springs Walmart may be your only choice...
So, the first decade of the new millennium has come to an end. That’s wild. Ten years ago we were all afraid the world would explode with Y2K and now we’re afraid the world will explode because of a powder keg in a crazy man’s underwear. What a decade.
As I stand on the precipice of a new decade, I realize that if I continue on my present course, I’ll have nothing to show for myself by 2020. So, I’ve decided to actually make some New Year’s Resolutions. I usually resolve to not resolve and that’s mostly because I’m too lazy to think about it. Or too afraid of failure to throw them out there. So here it is. I share them with you in hopes that you will share your own, or hold me to mine and call me on my s#!+.
My laundry list of things I’d like to accomplish, overcome, own, rule over like a boss, etc., in 2010:
Traditional
Work out at least four times a week
Eat in at least five times a week
Put money in my savings account AND keep it there
Pray more regularly
Be in bed between 11:00-11:30pm on weeknights
Be on time to work
Things to make me feel like I’ve done something productive
Blog every week
Finish a book
Keep up with current news and events
Learn something new every day… that’s right, I said every DAY…
Don’t take on other people’s problems as my own (sometimes I just can’t help)
Cultivate the friendships that bring me joy by keeping in touch, even just to say, “hi”
Remember the kind of person I want to be, the qualities I want to possess and if I feel myself slipping, stop immediately and regroup
Make more time for Eddy
Remember that sometimes I need to keep my ears open and my mouth shut
Remember what’s really important to me, what’s real and what’s bulls#!+
Yes. This is a huge list. I agree. But I’ve been thinking a long time about this. And I figure if I’m successful with even half this list, next year’s won’t be nearly as long.
Both EXCELLENT articles. Really, the commentary is right on the money. I cannot tell you how many times I have been in a situation where I’m asked where I’m from… originally. Once I was asked where my “homeland” was. My response? God’s country – TEXAS.
Do I think he was being racist? No. I think he legitimately wanted to know about me. I know he didn’t consider his question (or more specifically the way he phrased it) as culturally insensitive, but it was… accidentally. And it happens all the time.
For example, if you are white or black, how often are you asked about your homeland? If you are Asian and immediately open your mouth with a perfect Oklahoma accent, no one assumes that you just arrived from Beijing. But when I open my mouth, sans an accent and with almost perfect grammar, there is still an assumption that perhaps 25 years ago I was selling chicle on a street corner in Piedras Negras.
The problem isn’t in the curiosity – it is in the assumption. The assumption that even though we say we are from the good ol’ USA, really we just jumped off a turnip truck to work the fields. That’s not the case. My family settled in that untamed country that was once Mexico and then became Texas. I had family fight in the Civil War (on the side of the Confederacy – how f’ed is that?).
So in the great words of comedian Paul Rodriguez, “We didn’t cross the border. The border crossed us.”
The unfortunate thing is, in a time when studies say we are raising the most color-blind generation in American history, these conversations are still needed. Because if you look at the “color conversation” in the United States, historically it’s been black and white. As if the rest of us weren’t here or worse - as if we were just a little too stupid to participate.
I admit that I used to be hyper-sensitive when it came to these issues. I’ve since chilled a bit and can take a joke (if it really is a good one), but I notice off-handed, culturally insensitive statements people make – especially when good people make dumb comments.
I choose my battles and if it (or you) isn’t worth my time, I don’t bother. My Mom is still pretty militant. My husband had to re-learn the correct pronunciation of the word “Mexican” because his was more “Messcan.” Oh no baby – my family don’t roll like that.
Bottom line is that we, Mexican-Americans (MAs) are different than Mexican-Nationals (MNs). And while we share certain cultural traditions and celebrations, our perspectives are very different. In fact (and here is a well known secret) Mexican-Americans and Mexican-Nationals tend to NOT LIKE EACH OTHER!
That’s right ladies and gentlemen – as a stereotype, we dislike each other. Now, this is a broad generality and there are always going to exceptions. For example, I have cousins that married wonderful, beautiful women from Mexico who I absolutely adore and would never think of like this for a second. But obviously, I’m not talking about them.
For the most part, MNs think that MAs are too-full-of-themselves wannabes who have turned their back on their culture and have a “better than thou” mentality. The reverse is also true. MAs think MNs are full-of-themselves users, completely delusional to believe that their home country is the land of milk and honey. And if they think that, why don’t they just go back?
Admittedly, I’m going to have far more in common with a Caucasian male who grew-up middle class than I am a Mexican-National. It’s just true. When I was in elementary school, I was one of maybe two dozen Latino students. Predominately white neighborhoods are my experience and if you tried to set me down in the middle of Oaxaca, I’d be able to order a beer and some tacos but I couldn’t find my way home. I’d be waaaaayyyy f’ed.
But don’t get me wrong. Don’t think because I’ve outed our dirty little secret that I’m going to get behind your enthusiasm for an expensive, useless wall. Because there is something else you may not have thought of. I CAN call my brother an asshole. You CANNOT call my brother an asshole. Sorry, it’s the rules. Hate it all you want.
After reading the second article, about the down trend in Latino names, I couldn’t help but think, “Duh, of course.”
With the current war on all things brown, why would you knowingly name a child something that might already make them discriminated against? I’m lucky. Cristela is a Latino name, but it’s unique so people find it melodic. People like unique.
But Josephina? Jose? Guadalupe, Esteban, Alberto, Esmerelda? Hmmm, probably not. And why? Because as Americans we are trained to think that all things European are more elegant, cultured, and worthy. Speak with a British accent and everything you say has a certain gravitas. If a Spanish accent comes out of a body like Penelope Cruz then it’s sexy.
But how sexy does the bus boy at your favorite restaurant sound to you? When you hear Mexican music blaring out the kitchen what are you thinking? What if your bus boy had the British accent and the waiter had the Spanish accent? What are you trained to think?
I bet you are wondering, “Have I been culturally insensitive?” Well, I’m going to give you a smattering of questions and/or statements and if you’ve said it – DING! You’ve been culturally insensitive.
Here we go:
Upon hearing Mariachi music, you say “That music makes me hungry!”
Uhm, are you suffering with some Pavlovian complex because if we knew it was that easy… Mariachi music is important to us. It’s deeply woven into our DNA and we use it to celebrate weddings, holidays, special events or to mourn our loved ones once they pass. This is tear in your beer music that we learn to sing along with from birth. It wasn’t developed to accompany your enchiladas.
You are the whitest Mexican I’ve ever met.
Depending on who this is coming from, it could be meant as an accusation or a compliment. If the first – want to get your ass kicked? Call me coconut. I can’t kick very high, but I’ll stand on a stool if I need to. If the second, you may want to sit down for this. It’s not a compliment. That isn’t what we strive for. I know, I know it’s a shock. But all we are really thinking is “Jeez, what do you think of Mexicans?”
We are Mexican. The language is Spanish. No one speaks Mexican.
Want to piss off a Cuban or Puerto Rican? Say they speak Mexican. Better yet:
Assume I speak English.
When I was younger (post-college but pre-grown up job with insurance) I had to go to a clinic my uncle’s law office hooked me up with. When I sat down with the doctor, he looked at his PA (who appeared to be from a Middle Eastern country) and said, “Does she speak English good enough to speak to me?”
I looked at him with surprise and asked, “Who me?”
“Yes.”
And looking him dead in the eye, I leaned forward ever so slightly and responded, “I speak English fluently.”
You could see the chill go up his back…
We come in varying shades of brown…
Spaniards are European. The rest of us descend from the indigenous people of Latin American countries. The Conquistadores landed in the Americas, then proceeded to rape, pillage and basically Spanish Inquisition everybody over here (because it all went so well for them in Europe). What does that mean? The Blondies and the Brownies (even some darker Brownies) got all mixed together and so we ended up being lovely shades of brown. Like varying levels of cream in your coffee. PLUS (and this may surprise some) we can even being varying shades of brown within our own families! In fact, your Mom can be light and you come out brown. Ask me how I know!!!
I’d like to leave you with Cheech Marin’s awesome song “Mexican-Americans” because I think that this touching song sums up my feelings better (well a lot funnier anyway) than I can.
I admit, I'm a smart aleck. Is that supposed to be one word? Smartaleck? Just googled it. It's "smart alec." No 'k' - who knew? Well obviously the people from Merriam-Webster. But I think it still looks weird.
Anyway, this is a smattering of things that pop into my mind. I share them with friends, foes, perfect strangers with whom I have no stake. Oh, and I suppose potential employers who are curious about their interviewees. Or current ones that like to know what their people are up to...
I assure you this is the most notorious thing you will find about me on the web. You can go ahead and stop looking. I promise.
At our 2nd @OKCBaronsHockey game! So fun! Seriously OKC these guys are working their pucking butts off. Come show them some love! #OKCBarons23 hours ago
What is UP with the ONE PLACE? Do you know me? I can't narrow that down! Okay, I want to go to NYC. But I also want to to go to Machu Picchu, Auschwitz, Seattle, Costa Rica, Spain, Venice, The Greek Isles, Tulip fields in Holland, Cornwall & Devon, Scottish Highlands, Japan, China and many many more!
For me, it would have to be my Uncle Richard. He has always been great to me. Supportive and understanding and on occasion (when I was younger) pulled me aside and said "wtf is going on with you." I love him very much. I love all my uncles, but I'm closest to him.
I'm going to have to say that the Carrizales women inspire me. My Grandmother, Mother and Aunt especially, but also my Aunt's three daughters. My Grandmother was a widow who raised 5 kids on a seamstress salary. I always remember her having gift for the grandkids at Christmas on social security. That woman could stretch a dollar like silly putty. S […]
