It's My Vice.

WARNING: F-bombs are dropping in this post.

I'm about to let you in on one of my guiltiest of guilty pleasures. It's like this: There are at war within me two equal and opposite forces. One is a sophisticated, design-minded fanatic of fashion with what I can mildly assert to be discernible taste based on a passionate and educated sartorial awareness. The other? Well, it's a 15-year old boy who just shot soda out of his nose while laughing at his best friend who epically failed to reenact that scene from Jackass where they roll billiard balls at similarly shaped sensitive anatomical parts. For the latter force, I blame my father. He thought that because his kids were in the backseat they couldn't hear The Howard Stern Show blaring out of the speakers of our Mazda four-door. I've spent years trying not to laugh at the baser things that predictably tickle my funny bone, thinking I should be above the oh-so-politically incorrect wickedness of the lowbrow. But, ya know what? Screw political correctness! Humor done well is a talent, a golden-bowed gift! I think I still have discernible taste, even when it comes to bathroom jokes. I can sniff out the sub-par and I am not above saluting the truly comical, no matter what the subject matter. Why am I telling you all of this? Well, because the fashionista and the fifteen-year-old in me have a secret bonding ritual that I think you should know about. It is awfully, awfully, wrongly good. What is it? Well, it's the (all of the sudden I'm afraid you'll judge me...yeesh) Dos and Don'ts from--no, not the back pages of Glamour (also brilliant!)--VICE Magazine.

I know, I know they often go against any shred of decency that you would hope still exists in the world. They curse, they are filled with lewd, crude, rude, raunchy, sexually explicit gag-inducing visuals and captions. They are culturally insensitive, often sexist, and unabashedly arrogant. But, they are also...funny. Yep, I said it: I think they are funny. Well, not all of them; if they offend me I click the "next" button just a little quicker and move on. But, man when they get it right, they get it so right.

This appraisal of platform flip-flop wearers could not be more accurate; they are a quite predictable sign of greater problems.

You see styley fashion street sites all over, but I love witnessing what the gen pop is really wearing. The Dos and Don'ts what the folks on the street really try and get away with. The thing I like most is that when someone nails the style, they get the props. When they fail? They get torn something new.

Again, these Dos and Don'ts are not for the faint of heart or the humanely sensitive--there are both body parts and bodily fluids on regular display-- but if your inner man child and your innate fashionista need to spend some QT together, sit them down in front of VICE and let 'em at it. They'll play nice as long and your conscience doesn't come home and spoil the party.

Um...do you still love me?

Dos and Don'ts? Total Do!

Glamour Magazine's Dos and Don'ts were one of my favorite things growing up. While other nine-year-olds were actually splashing in the waves at the Jersey Shore, I was sandside reveling in the unusually high ratio of don'ts to dos that existed in Seaside Heights, NJ. I loved the back-of-the-mag feature. Of course the dos were helpful and totally doable, but the don'ts were pure finger-pointing, hysterical fun.

Glamour has added a whole new exciting dimension to the feature. It now exists as an interactive gallery where you can do some Don'tspotting of your own and upload candid snaps of the fashion statements that should have pled the Fifth. You can also post the dos of course, but we all know we're really there to see real-life mullets, exposed thong straps, cottage cheese thighs encased in gold lame, and oodles of plumber's crack. Once photos are uploaded the whole viewing population can rate the mishaps and crown ultimate don'ts (okay, and do's). It's all a bunch of nostalgic fun. So don't waste time, get Don'tspotting!