Was it a California girl? A summer fling that didn’t mean a thing? But oh—those summer nights.
On Tuesday, July 31st, WORN Fashion Journal will get your achey-breakey heart in front of a karaoke machine at SUPERMARKET (268 Augusta Avenue).
We’ve got a karaoke machine, a microphone, sad, sad, sad songs, and enough bitter tears and sweet liquor to fill a swimming pool. What else could you possibly need to mourn your latest romantic folly?
All proceeds go to the production of WORN Fashion Journal. This time, Heartbreak Karaoke will fund the summer rent for our office! We can’t make a magazine without a roof over our heads. Support independent publishing, and sing us a sad song!
$5 Admission if you’re wearing red or pink
Each song is $1
Jump the line for $10
Celine Dion songs are $5
268 Augusta Avenue
Hosted by: Karaoke Ted
Bring on the heartbreak: 9:00 p.m.
You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here: 2:00 a.m.
Red and pink: preferred
Your heart on your sleeve: mandatory
Can’t attend this event, but you still want to support independent fashion publishing? You’re making us blush! No amount is too small to win our hearts.
You could wear your heart on your sleeve, but why not paint it on all ten of your fingernails? Pinky’s Nails has created this special nail art tutorial for WORN’s Heartbreak Karaoke: Summer Fling edition. This video shows how to create three looks each with two different options: a full heart and a broken heart, a crying Wornette and a clear-eyed Wornette, and two different kinds of music notes. Continue reading →
Gentlemen do prefer blondes—at least, that’s been my experience so far. I’ve been a bleached blonde for just over a year now, and I have received more male attention than I ever thought possible. At first, I thought it was all in my imagination. My hair stylist and friends teased me about “blondes having more fun”—maybe it was one of those self-fulfilling prophecies? Frankly, I had expected a certain amount of male attention as a blonde and now I was seeing it everywhere I turned.
I knew that wasn’t the case when I started actually listening to these men who preferred blondes (calling them “gentlemen” would be a stretch). Once, I had my hair in a messy bun and I was wearing glasses—a man asked if I was his “hot secretary” (believe me, I am overqualified for that position). A few times I’ve curled my hair and worn red lipstick—several men have referred to me as ‘Marilyn’. And once, while I waited for the streetcar in a sleeveless shirt, I refused to let a man touch my visible tattoo—he called me a blonde bitch. Continue reading →
I’m sitting at my computer with a horrible little pit burrowing into my stomach. The pit is named “failure” and the feeling is small enough that I can keep working, but mean enough that my arms feel shaky and my eyes feel like they’re burning holes into my laptop. I’m really, really sad, and I’ve already had four cups of coffee, and my energy is still so non-existent that I feel like I’ll never accomplish anything, ever, not in my entire life, never mind this one dark morning.
So, yes, I am feeling a bit melodramatic today. And I’m looking for a quick fix. What can I do right now, I wonder, scanning my “office” (read: living room), that will pull me out of this deep hole of exhaustion and self-pity?
“Oh,” I say out loud, even though I’m alone, as I look over at my side table, where I tend to dump all of my personal belongings at the end of the day. I can put on my bracelets. Continue reading →