Bubble Butt

Until recently, the bottom has been the source of continual angst for women. According to pop culture, when pants/bikini/dress/ok-everything shopping, women will universally utter the words: "Does my butt look big in this?"*
* [Note, no one has actually researched the veracity of this, but I guess we've all said it one time or another, which is good enough for pop culture].

I actually don't worry so much about my butt, I prefer to focus on more angsty topics such as hips, but it has always been a thing for ladies to worry about. Thanks to round-bottomed-and-proud divas such as Jennifer Lopez, Beyonce, Nikki Minaj, Kim Kardashian, Christina Milan and Iggy Azalea (representing the Caucasian corner), the bottom has recently reached another type of pop culture status: it is now a phenomenon to applaud, exalt and draw attention to, rather than its erstwhile pop culture status of thing to hide, bemoan and generally downplay.

Bottoms are now the toast of the town

We now have songs glorifying butts, butt implants are becoming increasingly common as surgical procedures and now ... (drum roll) ... we have padded panties that chicken fillet-ify your butt. Little pocket breads of silicone can now do what loaves of bread have always promised to do: round out your bottom, give you more junk in your trunk and generally invite lots of lustful mens' Anacondas in your direction.

Love My Bubbles is one such purveyor of these treats to slip inside your underpants, boasting on their website the "biggest booty pads ever". How could you resist?

By Royal Queen Bey decree: hips, butts, boobs and waists are back

Happy Friday / Happy Valentine

Happy Valentine's Day to all the lovers out there! I am going ultra-romantic tomorrow and going to a WEDDING! I can't wait.

In other lurve related news, obviously the world is going bananas over the release of Fifty Shades of Grey. Having not read it because I am a LITERARY SNOB, I feel I can relax and go and see the film and not suffer the baggage of believing the film does not live up to the poorly-constructed story line. What a relief.

I am actually more concerned about flipping the switch in my head into believing that this Mr Grey fellow is a nice, somewhat kinky dreamboat and not the terrifying serial killer from The Fall. Jamie Dornan - Mr Grey - appeared most menacingly in the 2-season TV series The Fall and he is very bloody convincing.

Jamie Dornan looking adorable and probably not reading Fifty Shades of Grey

Reviewers appear to unanimously agree he is less than convincing in Grey, and that in fact there is next to zero chemistry between he and the leading, lip-chewing lady (Melanie Griffith's daughter). Frankly, I am not surprised. I caught his interview with Jimmy Fallon the other night and to say it was beige (worse than grey) would be an understatement. Jimmy Fallon is utterly adorable, and to see such a flat segment can only be Jamie's fault. I think he is lacking in personality. There! I said it. Anyway, I'm still going to see the film - even if it is alone. I have a feeling hubby will be less than enthused by this one.

*Note: There is a chance this is sexier than the actual film.

Have a sexy weekend.

Unofficial Awards

The award for most informative red carpet interview goes to none other than Taylor Swift.

I particularly like the sharp intake of breath after Nancy O'Dell rather rudely suggests Taylor Swift will be dragging a bunch of men home with her - and the very firm "I will be going home to my cats".  But the real reason this interview gets an award is for the shoes at the end.

Best name goes to...

Holliday Grainger.

Who is she? I have no idea. But she looks like some screen siren from the 1930s, and I'm happy to take that thought away with me as I ponder her excellent name.

Gotta Love...

A very big, very frothy, very pink confection of a ball gown.

Rihanna in Giambattista Valli at the Grammy's

This looks fun.

Walking the Long Line

As Valentine's Day approaches,so too are our mailboxes (real and virtual) crammed with items essential for the perfect Valentine's Day experience: lingerie, florists, hotel deals and hot air balloon escapes are bursting out of my inbox. I really couldn't care less about Valentine's Day and I care even less this year as I have a wedding to attend that day (pressure officially off for Hubby).

Amongst all the junk mail (and yeah, ok, 25% off lingerie at David Jones won't go astray) there is one thing that I am interested in: the long line bra.

Not to be confused with it's big sister, the corset, the long line bra generally ends somewhere around the bottom of the rib cage. For the bosomy woman, it provides extra support. For everyone else, it is just all around rather gorgeous.

Ok, this is not a great example as she is not particularly busty but you get my drift. The long line is also great in the strapless incarnation as it stays up much better than some hopeless old ordinary strapless bra.

Speaking of which, if you want a great hack for wearing a strapless bra, check it out here. I honestly smacked my head for not having thought of this myself.

Time for some new lingerie.

Shoesday: Stamp Your Feet ... in Sequins