I Love You, Now Change...Into This.

For all of its raunchy ramblings, Vice Magazine is one of the most brilliant sources of non-trad fashion stuff in the new age. I love it's endlessly perplexing mix of gross guy humor and intelligent studies in cultural curiosities. One of the latest bits of bestness that's come out of their fashion issue is a portfolio of photos of regular couples dressing their better halves in outfits of their choosing. The before photos show the couples in their own garb, while the after shots feature them rocking wares chosen by their mates with the end goal of sexy in mind. For instance, meet Ashley and Charlie in the clothes they normally wear when they are in charge of their wardrobes:

Now, check them out in the outfits they chose for each other:

She likes how those stripes emphasize his shoulders. He likes how that dress shows her...well, everything.

Here are Max and Elle in their normal gear:

And here are their lover-styled outfits:

He picked out that power suit because she calls the shots in that thing, and she wanted him in his jammies because she likes how baggy clothes hang off of a skinny boy's body.


Here are Crista and Jess before their makeovers:

And here they are after:

That was the first outfit Crista thought Jenn looked super hot in, and Jenn loves a pair of gray pumps with that purple top that she doesn't think Crista wears enough of.

Here are the lessons learned:

1) Everything is sexy to someone.

The next time you think you have to fit some mold of pre-arranged sexiness, think of that guy up there whose girlfriend loves his skinny ass in baggy jammies. Isn't that amazing?

2) You are sexy. Yes, you.

How much does this portfolio show how manufactured most images of sexy are? The brooding, muscled, oiled, long-legged, big boobed archetypes of perfection are not our reality.

What is sexy to you? Do tell...

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?