Minutes after I got the amazing news that Persephone had been bought by Oprah, who should reach out to me but Carson Kressley, one of Oprah’s fashion gurus. You may remember him from the fine reality T.V. show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Well, I was flabbergasted! My heart began to thump as I considered my new life as the world’s shortest hot-shot fashion blogger!
I really shouldn’t have bought that one-way ticket to Paris.
After a warm, personal, Oprah-esque email greeting (Dear Will-Still-Be-Unpaid Blogger), Mr. Kressley came right to the point:
What the hell is that pink thing on your head in your avatar picture? It looks like an irregular remnant from the Hello Kitty Factory Store. Hello Kitty? More like Hello Shitty.
All of a sudden, I became very aware of my every item of clothing, as if Mr. Kressley’s “queer eye” could see through time, space, and thin apartment walls. My bloggin’ sweatpants somehow didn’t feel as elegant as they had a few moments ago.
If you’re going to represent the Oprah brand, you’ve got to find a sassy new look. That bow answers the question “Reverend, does Hell really exist?”
My fingers crept up to touch the pink bow atop my head. It perched jauntily at an angle, as if to say “Only a really cool chick could pull off this awesome look.” I wore it every day – it was my signature! Every woman needs a signature look, and after eighth grade, I knew that “girl who makes her own shoes” could not be it.
More cheer from the Oprah Staff Sartorialist:
I have attached links to several hair, er, head accessories. (Do you have any hair? The picture I have of you is”¦ um”¦ oh, God, what’s a nice word for “˜monkey-ass ugly’?) Please, please buy one or all of them. Feel free to add a face-obscuring veil if you want. Unfortunately, we cannot put you on the Oprah.com website as you are now. Not that any one of Ms. Winfrey’s loyal staffers would say that any woman was less than orgasmically beautiful. No no no. I’m simply saying that utilization an ironic paper bag with a mustache drawn on it might be just the thing to help you connect with a key demographic for us: twenty-two year old White women who wear fringed, suede, thigh-high boots in August and date bearded date guys who can build their own sitars.
Yours in the Big “O”! ;)
With trepidatious fingers I clicked on the helpful links he sent. Please, loyal Persephone readers – help me choose my totally voluntary new Oprah-approved (TM) look.
The turban is a bit Gloria Swanson-esque (which is fabulous), but somehow the yellow color doesn’t work for me. I look like a jaundiced extra from an all-hipster remake of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Ennui.
Tiny hat? There’s no way this can go wrong.
Yes, this fascinator covers my face (ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, KRESSLEY?), but it inhibits my inhalation of ice cream, which I’ve been pounding ever since he called me the nice word for “monkey-ass ugly.”
I’m beginning to think this last one was not a joke.
Okay, so which new look should I go for? Or should I stick to my guns, er, bows? Oh, who are we kidding? I’d wear the bear mask and parade around naked while singing “I am bear-ey, hear me roar. I am too furry to ignore,” if it meant Oprah would like me.