Recently in Aesthetic Appearances Category

Well, it's over. Balloon Boy, a.k.a. Falcon Heene, the troublesome six-year-old who was feared to be aloft in a giant Jiffy Pop balloon high above Colorado, is safe. Turns out he was in a box in the attic the whole time. Some people may feel angry about this childhood prank gone way awry, but I personally enjoyed it all. In fact, I thought it was significantly more entertaining than about 90% of that other balloon saga, Up. That being said, we're all glad the kid is alive yada yada yada.

Nevertheless, Balloon Boy may now be over and officially logged in the footnotes of pop culture, but that doesn't mean we have to forget this bizarre story. That's right — in record time, a t-shirt has popped up on the Internet, memorializing this silly, silly day. To buy one, just follow this link to Zazzle.com. Go Falcon, Go indeed!

(Personally though, I think the design should be amended to portray simply a box).

Thanks to Lbucha for the heads up.

Not so long ago, I posted about my friend Chris, who's in the running for something called Model Survivor. I implored you all to vote for him to win, not realizing that the cruel webmaster behind this game was not content to have merely one round of voting or even two, but apparently THIRTY. Overkill? Just a tad. But I suppose it's within his right to milk the concept. I've been known to kill a few things myself on this blog.

Nevertheless, Chris is back again, and he's hoping to be the highest vote-getter in this latest round of man gawking. That's where you all come in. If you'd like to help Chris's dreams come true, be sure to head over to the site and vote for him. The "ballot" is on the right hand side, and he's number 7 (click it then press "vote" below — no registration required).

I'm not really sure he wins anything by earning the most votes in a round, but at least he'll have pride, bragging rights, and perhaps some decent fodder for his next cocktail party. And really, isn't that enough?

So what do you get out of it? Well, the ladies get some random eye-candy. The gay dudes too. And the straight guys and lesbians? Well, you can just look at this instead.

To help out Chris, check out Model Survivor here (possibly NSFW, depending on how lenient your boss is about half-naked men).

Time to shill for a friend (as if I don't do that enough — btw, check out my friend Heather's book, Eat Your Feelings: Recipes for Self-Loathing. On sale now and beloved by the New Yorker!). Anyway, my buddy Chris models, and apparently there's a website out there which is attempting to crown "the hottest male models in the business," as chosen by reader votes. Basically, it's some guy's shameless way of getting traffic by posting a whole lot of man flesh. Nevertheless, Chris is in the running and needs votes. That's where you come in. If you'd be so kind, head on over to the site, and on the right-hand side, send a vote Chris's way (he's #7, Christopher Nogiec). I'm sure he'd be very appreciative.

Vote here: Model Survivor

In season one of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, Nene's gay sidekick Dwight asked "How you gonna have a fashion show with no fashions?" He was referring, of course, to the infamous SHE BY SHERAYAY launch party which featured, quite literally, no fashions. Well, there may have been clothes at the party pictured above (hosted by Lisa WU Hartwell — Drinks & Dialogue, perhaps?), but there still seems to be a lack of fashion in Atlanta. That's right, you're looking at fur pants, a trend that will most likely stay confined to this one photo.

It may be too early to say for sure, but I think Dwight just lost all his gay sidekick cred. Sort of sad, really. That puts him down there with sad sack Frankie of Orange County. What's this world coming to??

Via D-Listed

In honor of the season finale of Shear Genius tonight, and in honor of my coif getting entirely too difficult to maintain, I've decided to do something drastic today. I'm cutting my hair off! This shall come as a pleasant surprise to my friends and family (particularly IndianJones and my friend Andrea who were always very vocal about the bird's nest on my head). Of course, I can't just get my hair chopped off without a little documentation. So please enjoy my journey from long-haired bum to dapper, short-cropped gent. To quote Kitty Sanchez: "Take a good look because it's the LAST time you'll see these!"

Back in May, I posted about my semi-awkward encounter with Lenny Kravitz in Prague, and I'm happy to report that the commercial around which the whole debacle centered has finally made it to air. Above, check out the new spot for Kohl's, and know that in one of those windows behind Lenny's head, my mom and I are standing there wondering what in the hell is goin' on with all these crazy people in the square (we couldn't see Lenny from our viewpoint). Oh if only the Museum of Decorative Arts had received a close-up — we coulda been stars!

Traveling Pants Shall Travel No More

Over the past week, two pairs of my shorts and my favorite pair of cargo pants have developed large, menacing holes in their pockets. I don't know exactly what brought it about (heavy keys, no doubt), but yesterday afternoon, I resolved to take my ailing garb to a tailor to get this small but inconvenient problem mended, quite literally. The plan was to go into effect yesterday, but thank goodness I waited because I would have full-on wasted my money — at least as far as my cargo pants were concerned.

Call me a luddite, but sometimes I simply don't get men's high fashion. Take, for example, this strange piece profiled in The New York Times. It's from Alexander McQueen, and while I appreciate that it's more of an avant garde look aimed at influencing the market more than dominating it, I still can't help thinking that most men wouldn't be caught dead in what amounts to be a feathered, pseudo-sequined tube top. Or would they?

After the jump, some artistic projections on who might adopt the new look.

Fashion Week in Los Angeles wrapped up about a week ago, and while I didn't get to hobnob with the trendy elite at Smashbox Studios (home to most of the big fashion shows in the city), I did head over to the BOXeight warehouse to check out a smaller runway show. To be honest, this was the first real fashion show I'd ever been to. Shocking, right? You'd think with my cutting edge Gap wardrobe that I'd have my finger firmly on the pulse of this world, but I regret to inform you that I am woefully disconnected from most sartorially-tinged extravaganzas.

Anyway, there weren't really any stories from the fashion show, but I brought my camera anyway, hoping that maybe there'd be an errant Project Runway star flitting about (there weren't). I did have three D-list sightings though. You'll be very impressed, I'm sure.

Back in December, I decided that one way to save money would be to cease all haircuts until the strike ended. Well, now it's over, and I've decided to extend my moratorium until I receive my next paycheck, which could be who knows when. While the inner-pride I maintain in the face of such an ascetic lifestyle is a neat perk, the truth of the matter is that my hair is rapidly becoming more and more unwieldy with each passing day. It seems to be speeding through any "birds nest" sort of stage and heading directly for "voluminous tragedy," although, to be fair, it's really not that out of control just yet. Plus, the good news is that if my will-power remains strong, there's an outside chance that the hair could grow out of its awkward phase and into a luscious mane of black wonder, but I tend to think "greasy Antonio Banderas disaster" might be a more realistic outcome. Nevertheless, I'm slowly learning how to deal with the expanding beast on my head, and after the jump, I've included some photos that detail this daily, self-imposed battle.