Going to class is getting in the way of my college experience

Lots and lots of things to share. But due to that pesky little detail of undergraduate education known as midterm week, I will have to tell you about them later. So just in case I forget, here are some things I'm going to mull over in my next post(s):

1. everybody remembers my entry about my first impression of Communications, my major. now that i'm halfway into my classes, I'm going to tell you what its really like.
2. mean people. or rather people who guilt and blame you for problems, but do it in the most unassuming of ways.
3. the stress of being involved in a student publication - some of you may know what i'm talking about.

I know this is really an unsatisfactory post. But I'll leave you with a picture of Salvador Dali. One my most favorite artists.

"I do not take drugs. I am drugs." - Salvador Dali

He actually looks quite fetching in this picture, I think. People always ask me why I like him. It's because he's insane. Insane but brilliant at the same time. He alway has so much going on in his paintings in terms of different visual perspectives I feel like my brain is going to explode from trying to comprehend it all. I kind of like that feeling. Is that how it feels like to be on drugs?



Anyway, now that I have sufficiently scared you off with my post-mortem crush and possible insanity - I will bid you good day. And I promise I shall return with a wealth of new, hopefully interesting but probably useless musings.

Cheers!

So I Kick, Push, Kick, Push, Coast...

I feel like I haven't updated in awhile. I'm going to try to update once a week. I hate when you click on blogs you love only to find that you have to wait patiently for a beloved update. I loathe waiting for updates just as much as I loathe waiting for packages. Speaking of, my package came today! Delia*s was having their end of season clearance sale and they had a bunch of stuff on clearance for 50% off! My sister and I went crazy with it:

Sister bought this shirt for $10. It kind of reminds me of this DIY graphic t-shirt she made with an iron-on transfer design of a cat riding a skateboard. Don't ask me why.

I think she got these for $20. I have to say, when i saw these online, I was thinking, "boring white wedge-type shoe." *yawn* BUT now that I have seen them in person, I am so jealous! They're made with two different textures. Plain white leather and an embossed sort of leather. The embossing on the leather makes it look sort of like the feathers of a bird. And we all know plumage is hot this year. I hate when the sister's good eye for style leaves me with nothing but green eyes.

My sister bought this as a present for a friend for $15. This is an example of the the reverse of what happened with the shoes. This looked cute online, but in real life it didn't live up to our expectations. The striped part is cute, but the yellow part is a printed knit. And theres something about the print that makes it look like it was a leftover piece of fabric, originally used to sew a onesie.

I bought these. The RVCA shirt was $10. And I think the tank was $7.99. I know they're pretty boring purchases. But this summer I had an epiphany that I have absolutely no graphic tees. I remember in 8th grade (the fashion Dark Ages for my sister and I), I had to have the skate brand t-shirts that everyone else was wearing. It didn't matter that a red shirt with a hawaiian flower graphic on it costed $25. As long as I had the word Roxy, Billabong or Hurley scrawled across my pancake-flat chest, thats all that mattered to me.

But when I reached high school, I realized how utterly ridiculous it is to pay that much for what is essentially a plain t-shirt with some fabric paint. So I excommunicated graphic tees from my closet and went through a period where I wore plain t-shirts in different colors. This was about the time when layering came in and Old Navy became my best friend because they always had 2-for deals on basic tees.

Only recently did I discover that sometimes, a graphic tee can give an outfit a certain edge that can't be attained by accessorizing a plain colored tee. So I flipped when I saw the sale at Delias. That RVCA shirt is usually $25.

I know some people might argue that wearing skate brands is so junior high. But I've realized the key to them look less juvenile is the intention behind it. If you're wearing them to show off to your hardcore skater friends that you can pay $35 for a blue shirt that has nothing but the word Billabong on it (I've seen that before), then yes, you belong back in your Algebra 1 class.

But for me, I've come to really respect the design talent behind some skate brands. The two I like the most are Volcom and the aforementioned RVCA. Volcom, I have found, has a sense of humor in their clothes. Two years ago, I bought this bright yellow collared shirt by Volcom. There are little details in the pockets and labels that make it feel like the designers created the shirt after surfing the waves at Newport Beach and not in some stuffy corporate conference room. And as for RVCA, I love crests and coats of arms (in a prep school sort of way not in a Juicy Couture kind of way).

I always hear that Southern California is the skate/surf capital of the world. The Paris for skate brands. This leads me to wonder if skate brands ever caught on in places other than Southern California, like the Northeast or the Midwest.

all pictures are from delias.com

Out of my Element...

Today I attended the first meeting for my major – Communications. I love my school, but a huge drawback is that we don’t have a formal journalism major. Communications is the next best option.

After a year of struggling to stay afloat in the sea of indecisiveness that is the Undeclared major - for awhile I thought I would be the first person to start the department of Undeclared at my college - it was a huge relief when I finally figured out what I wanted to do in life.

That’s not to say that I don’t have any reservations about the major I’ve chosen. I keep hearing that I’ve chosen an “athlete major.” And while I think my classes will be interesting, I have a nagging feeling in the back of my head that I could be spending my time studying something more challenging. This is going to sound completely pretentious and arrogant but I’ll say it anyway. I feel like I’m too smart to be a comm major. I know its bad to think that but that’s how I feel.

The other side of the coin is that I don’t think I’m too smart for journalism. Quite the contrary actually. I feel like I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. That I’m not developed enough as a writer to make it in this crazy industry. On top of that, I have no connections.

So today I set out to get the first taste of my major. I wore these awesome Roman gladiator-inspired flip flops I got for five bucks at a consignment store. I thought to myself, “I can handle this.”

As I walked into the room and looked around at my cohorts, I realized a few things:

• 95% of them were female
• 80% of these females would be considered extremely to moderately attractive
• 75% of these females seemed like social “life-of-the-party” types

I’ll admit most of these observations are just speculative (except the first one). But I do know one thing for sure. My Roman gladiator confidence had dwindled to Roman Meal. I didn’t fit into this mélange of mascara’d and skinny-jeans clad blondes, brunettes and raven-haired Asians. I could hear the chorus of flirtatious giggles and ultra-feminine chatter. These were girls who had guys at “Hello” and looked good in slinky black cocktail dresses and, most importantly, knew how to network with a hair flip and lots of cutesy gestures.

Not only did I feel insecure about my major, I didn’t know what to think of my future. I know you need tough skin in this business. I’m ready to work hard and I know I have the motivation. But when your competition comes in the form of a size 2 blonde with legs from here to Cambodia, where does an underrepresented minority girl, with nothing but the drive of her ambition to carry her, go? The biology department?

File that under, “Oh hell no.”

A Way with Words...

As I flipped through the Style&Culture section of today's edition of the LA Times, an article about the Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary caught my eye.

Confession time: I love words. I am a linguistic nerd in all senses of the word. I took a linguistics class this past year and fell in love with it so much so that while my atmospheric science and astronomy books were promptly listed (and sold) on Amazon, I have retained my linguistics book for my personal library.

Back to the article, it was talking about how words like "snitty" (which means disagreeably agitated) and "regift" are on the list to be added to the new edition of the collegiate dictionary. I always thought the spoken frequency of a word determined eligibility for the dictionary. BUT as it turns out, the word has to be cited in print a good amount of times to even be considered.

So to find new words in print, the employees of Merriam Webster spend their days sitting at their cubicles flipping through all manners of print. Everything from fashion magazines to science and health journals. When they spot a new word, they write it down on an index card that is entered into a database later. Around this time, they go through the database to find new additions to the next edition of the dictionary.

If I don't make it in journalism, I really think that I would enjoy working for a dictionary company. I don't know what kind of degree/qualifications you have to have in order to work there but give me a quiet place to read and a stack of mags and I'm there. I can see some potential glossy burnout. But hopefully the variety of reading material will prevent that. Imagine what an informed person I would be.

The Whites of their Eyes...

Being a makeup novice, I don't really pay much attention to beauty tips in magazines. First of all, they make you use a barrage of products that are expensive and take some skill to use. Skill that I sorely lack. I'm not anti-makeup. Just anti-spending money that could be spent on clothes, shoes, accessories - which bring me more satisfaction and last longer (did you know you're supposed to throw away your mascara every month? thats ridiculous).

A recent trip to good ol' Wal-mart combined with a post by Susie from StyleBubble (one of my favorite blogs) got me thinking about my beauty regimen. As you have probably figured out, due to my makeup illiteracy, I don't wear a lot of it. I do wear pencil eyeliner. And I love a rosy cheek, so I dabble with blush. I cannot handle the stickiness of lip gloss (like when the wind is blowing and strands of your hair get stuck to your lips), so I opt for the reliable Chap-Stick brand medicated lip balm. Mascara for me is uncharted territory. I've heard a lot of girls say that if they had to choose one product to take to a desert island it'd be mascara. Again, no prejudice against mascara - I think it dramatizes people's eyes beautifully, especially those blessed with ice blue eyes. Apart from the fact that I'm afraid I'll poke my eye out trying to apply it, I'm more or less content with the amount/thickness of the eyelashes I have. Ah, the benefits of being South Asian. Thats the upside of hailing from a land of excessively hairy people, I have reasonably thick, medium length black lashes. The downside of it involves a lot of painful plucking, waxing, threading and shaving that you probably wouldn't want to hear about.

So, if I were stuck on a desert island and had to take one beauty product, it would have to be eyeliner of the kohl/kajal variety. My people invented that stuff you know. My grandma used to put it in my eyes when I was young, supposedly to ward off the evil eye. Anyway, fast forward to my senior year in high school when I start wearing it again. At first I only wore it on my bottom lids. And I still prefer wearing it there. Your eyes look a lot brighter and no one can pinpoint exactly what you did to make them that way, because it looks so natural. But this past summer, I felt like upping the cosmetic ante for a series of weddings I had to attend so I tried lining the top lids and the bottom lids. I had to get used to it because I thought it looked so unnatural at first. But it grew on me and now I appreciate how it frames my eyes. Still not crazy about it though.

By now, everyone's heard about the latest beauty trend which is white eyeliner. I heard Tyra Banks rave about it on her show and have read many a magazine snippet about it. The claim is that it makes your eyes seem brighter and more awake.
White eyeliner at Chanel Spring 06: The look is kind of ephemeral and doe-like
At Lanvin Spring 06: A more subtle, wearable version of the look makes Gemma Ward appear dewy and innocently wide-eyed.

Since eyeliner is the only beauty category that I am moderately versed in and I felt my regular look was getting stale I took the plunge and bought the white pencil in the same brand I usually use in a stark white color. After some googling about how/where to apply it, I found out getting stark white eyeliner is a mistake unless you have alabaster skin, which I definitely do not due to the aforementioned Pakistani genes. Oh well, I tell myself, and put it on the bottom lid. It looked chalky and some of the extra pencil fell onto my lower lashes. No worries, I say in an effort to persuade myself, it looks like I have snowflakes on my lashes. That could be charming, right? Except it doesn't snow in September. And it definitely doesn't snow in L.A. After an hour, it started to look like I had pink eye or hyperactive tear ducts that have to produce inordinate amounts of eye gunk to keep my eyeballs in place.

Conclusion of my experiment: Dramatic white eyeliner looks best on people with fairer complexions. However you can get away with putting a smudge of it on the inner corners and outer corners of your eyes. Pairing it with the black liner on the top lids gives a nice touch.

As Jay Manuel says, "Makeup is all about smoke and mirrors" so the type of lighting you are in really affects if the white liner will look like you are an enchanting deer-woman running through the forest or like you had an unfortunate run-in with conjunctivitis.

It's a baby BLOG!

Isn't this a trippy picture? I came across it when I googled "baby." It was called McBaby. Kind of says something about our society, doesn't it? Childhood obesity, it ain't no joke.

Moda Maga. Weird name I know. But I promised myself that I would never give my progeny generic names so why wouldn't the same rule apply to my blog? Hopefully the side bar sufficiently explains the significance behind the name.

There is one thing you should know about me. I am positively obsessed with getting my foot into the door of the media industry. I think the infatuation started a year ago, when I finally realized that no, I don't want to check people's contact lenses all day for a living. I actually want to tell them what clothes I think are hot for this season. For months now I've been trying to soak up as much about publications as I can. Then a few people said I should start a blog, it is the new media frontier you know. Admittedly, I was hesitant because:
a. given my aspirations for print/broadcast journalism, I felt that starting a blog would be contributing to the "downfall of conventional media sources" that everyone keeps talking about. like I'd be a traitor or something.
b. I didn't really know what I would talk about on a blog
c. what if no one reads my blog??? wouldn't typing entries that no one ever reads into the black hole of cyberspace be equivalent to sitting by yourself at the lunchtable?

So then why and how was Moda Maga born? because:
a. I realized I read a substantial amount of blogs but that doesn't mean that I have banished all my mags to a place where the sun don't shine. I read each for their own unique perspective on a topic. They complement each other. Traditional news sources and blogs can coexist peacefully.
b. If I spend so much time thinking about these journalistic quandries, why not start a blog that talks about that!?! And just for kicks, throw in some ponderings on stuff that I'm really passionate about?
c. who cares if no one reads my blog? at this point I have zero expectations. heck I could be the only one who is reading this but the important thing is I'm practicing my writing. and that is definitely going to help me in my noble quest to become a well-dressed, latte-wielding, fashion show attending, imaginative magazine editor. I hope.

And that, my friends, is how Moda Maga was conceived.