Happiness is... a size 14?

It used to be said that blondes had all the fun. Now it's true that size 14 (which is a 10 or 12 in American sizes) ladies are the happiest and, in turn, must have all the fun. Think about it for a minute. A lady who is a size 10 or 12 can actually enjoy a meal. She isn't confined to having only a salad for lunch. And guys, when you wrap your arms around a size 10 or 12 lady, she doesn't feel like a damn skeleton. There's no sharp objects protruding from her that could mark you with bruises. There's no chance that one of her protruding ribs could puncture your lung.

Then there's the loving. Imagine a life where your hips aren't constantly bruised and jabbed. You don't have to worry about smashing the life out of the poor lady because she's not a damn feather. She has curves and let me just say that curves are good. To all you size 10 or 12 ladies, you are happy and you are actually average. You've got some junk in the trunk and it works because saggy-assed jeans are not a good look. Remember this, when you're eating that tasty piece of chocolate mint ice cream cake, you won't be running to the ladies' room in 15 minutes to puke it up.

A tale of two feet

Sweet Jesus do my feet ever hurt. It all started yesterday as I made the misguided decision to take to the park and tackle an after-work round of disc golf. I made it through approximately one-third of the course before I decided that my dogs were barking rather loudly and I needed to make my way back to my car.

I thought that simply driving would be enough to take away the pain but driving did n othing to relieve the pain.

Once at home, what transpired there didn't help either. I spent the post-supper hours mowing the lawns at the estate, manicuring the vast areas of landscaping and trimming branches from the Cedar tree.

Today, as I write this, my feet are still throbbing. They are throbbing as I sit in my desk chair.

I've now removed my shoes. Yes, that's the ticket. Sure, the $12 kicks from Payless look cool but a guy can have both looks and comfort, right? I hope that I haven't done some sort of permanent damage with my poor choice of shoes where I placed form over function. Could my arches (please, no McDonald's references) be falling? Might it be Plantar Fasciitis (a la former Minnesota Viking runningback Randy Moss and my mom)? Do I need a foot massage? Any takers?

On being a misfit (of sorts)

Many of my friends would describe me as being unique, different or even weird. I don't know whether it's my own personal style that they find interesting/weird or the fact that I am, by nature, out of the mainstream.

Sure, plenty of folks own a computer, the latest surveys have that percentage pegged at 89% of American households being in possession of a computer but I am not a PC guy. I despise the beige towers of days past and prefer the Mac. That probably has something to do with my graphic design and photography work. Macs just work better but that comes at a price -- literally -- they cost more too. (And I am drooling over all the new Mac stuff announced Tuesday...)

Music tastes are another thing. While everyone was still mourning the slow death of grunge in the early/mid 90s, I had never liked it and instead moved on to Weezer and, as I've described earlier, a wealth of music described as "alternative". I'd rather listen to a plethora of music from a variety of sources that tune in to the local Top 40 radio staton and be fed a repetitive playlist of the same 15 "artists" on a 90 minute loop.

Then there is my style of dress. Sure, lately I've been sporting a fauxhawk from time to time (alright, almost every day since before Halloween), haven't drug a comb through my locks since sometime in the last century and while I don't shop at thrift shops, my style says I don't exactly conform to what society as a whole would expect but I do dress appropriately for what is expected of an up-and-coming twenty-something designer who stays on the cutting edge of design trends but feels that a tie would severly stifle one's creativity.

With all that out of the way, what trends do you follow and what trends do you go against the grain of?

Get your 80s on

In my younger days, I passed on certain trends. Sure, I was all about lame-ass slap bracelets and rolling/pinning my jeans but there were some trends that even as a "tween" I deemed too lame to partake in.

Now I have a second chance.

A Minnesota entrepreneur (we'll see if that title sticks) has bought the Zubaz name and seems determined to bring the nearly twenty year old mistake back from the grave as Jason DeRusha reported last night.

I have to wonder if Zubaz can overcome the stigma which is attached to them. Maybe I am alone here but I tend to associate Zubaz with sweatpants. Maybe a sort of designer sweatpants for the chic but still lazy, beer-gut laden individuals which dot the landscape. Can the venerable Zubaz overcome this stigma? Will you rush out and plop down the 30 bucks for a pair of "trendy" sweats? I still have a no sweatpants rule so count me out.

Fashion crimes against humanity

When you spend an entire day in an open-air space essentially riding the waves in a sea of people, you begin to notice things. I particularly take note of how people are dressed.

As we sat on a bench for a few minutes on Monday after perusing the dismal offerings Chevrolet had on display on what was once machinery hill at the Minnesota State Fair, I examined the throngs of passerbys.

Of interest in my examination of the dress habits of humans was the mid-teens female specimen dressed in a bright pink, skin-tight shirt made of spandex or polyester -- definitely not a natural fiber. On someone lithe and trim, it would have been fine but on her it showcased what I coined a "jelly belly". She had handlebars to match (on a teenager, it just sounds sick to use the phrase "love handles"). Girls, please dress for your body shape. If you have a few (or 30) extra pounds, you might want to cloak the extra pounds instead of blatantly showcasing them for all the world (and me) to critique. I thank you, though, for providing me with more material.

Another disturbing trend I witnessed in all of its unholy rubber glory was the infiltration of Crocs. Yes, the shoe's rubberized bastard cousin. It looks a rubber dress shoe cover-up mated with a pair of clogs and gave birth to the hole-covered Croc. As many people as I saw wearing them, I have never seen anyone stroll to the checkout stand of a store or perusing a mall kiosk purchase these abominations that are just anothe rnail in the coffin of society. Sure, they have their place but casual, everyday wear outside of your garden or mowing the lawn is not the place. Please cease and desist.

Lastly, the problem of men wearing blue jeans in 80-plus degree heat. I understand that many working men have to wear the dreaded long pants. Construction workers, farmers and the like are the exceptions to the rule of no jeans if it's over 75 degrees. Monday's temperature tipped the scale at a humid 80-plus degrees. The number of guys sporting long pants was apalling.In casual settings, break out the shorts. It's fine regardless of how pale your chicken legs are and it sure beats leg sweat.

I'll even add another sub-section to this offensive group... parachute pants. Yeah, I said parachute pants. Hey, 1989 called and it wants its fashion trainwreck back. The image I can't drink out of my mind is that of a teenage girl sporting tacky red parachute pants. Here's a hint, just because they sell something at Hot Topic doesn't mean that wearing the offending garment will make you the coolest cat in the tree.

Am I alone in my mild dislike of these fashion faux pas? Am I treading on thin ice because you are wearing Crocs and parachute pants and are just PISSED that I would call you out for these fashion crimes? Or should I just shut up because I mow the lawn wearing nothing but a lime green speedo?