I'm a fan of fake hair. But all too often the white ladies in movies -- or the gay men who wrangle their wigs -- utterfly fail.
No one says it's easy to make a weave look natural, but does it have to look bad?
Today's case in point: the lovely Cate Blanchett in Robin Hood. (I know, the movie was a shitfest, but she's delightful in almost everything, and nothing can ever be as bad as Kevin Costner's version, so yes, I watched it.)
Cate's hair in real life:
And Cate with a matted up cat corpse barely perched on her head:
Here is the matted cat corpse from a different angle:
It's hard to look like the scruffier man when you're standing next to Russell Crowe. But, well, you see it. A matted cat corpse slipping off your head looks worse than Russell Crowe's grizzled stubble.
Here's another photo of the real Cate, with her natural, pretty hair, to cleanse the palette.
That's a long way of saying, I was already a fan and excited to join the group as a green blogger, and to represent Clever Girls Collective. But as always, my opinions are my own.
Three Things Ford Gets Right
1. Ford talks to women
For one thing, Ford reached out the Clever Girls Collective network, which is predominantly women, to include 25 of our members in the Driving Green event. We sent (including me) 23 women and 2 men. Ford invited another 75 participants, most of whom were from major sites like Fast Company, Gizmodo, and the New York Times.
I give Ford huge props for including the Clever network bloggers, who have (relatively speaking) smaller, but highly engaged audiences. It speaks volumes about their understanding of how women make major purchasing decisions: We discuss it with our friends.
This inclusive attitude toward women was also noticeable at the Auto show itself. Ford set up a very nice "private" lounge area for the bloggers, where we could recharge our electronics, get lunch and cold drinks. Thoughtful. Good hosting.
They also brought in several senior executives to do interviews with us in that lounge -- everyone had a chance to speak one-on-one with them, regardless of the size of our publication or audience. Also, there were no restrictions on what we could ask.
It was dramatic to go from that environment to rest of the auto show, where few (if any!) of the women were acknowledged or engaged by other car companies. One other car company did a little online outreach, and invited several of the bloggers to their hospitality suite, which was smart. But once we got there, she was the only person we spoke with -- and she was from the PR company, not the car company itself. She was very well informed about the product, but it was a far cry from getting to ask Ford's head of sustainable design about alternative fabric choices.
Sometimes I think I'm so funny. And then I'm wrong.
Like when I snapped this photo of a "pirate" waiting for the flight back to San Francisco from Detroit, and tweeted it out with the tag #themagicalcityofsf.
At the time, it sure as hell was funny to me. Here, let's count the ways, starting at the top:
highly engineered white dude dreads/scruffy beard
not one, but TWO amateur steampunk-metal-feather-hoop earrings (really, wouldn't one have been plenty? I have to think that Captain Jack Sparrow would have shown restraint, and thereby achieved greater impact -- but that's how you know you're dealing with a professional, innit?) from Etsy
dashing red sash from Etsy
corset murse (translation for the uninitiated: man-purse) from Etsy
Ha ha ha! So much airport entertainment! People-watching and tweeting! All in good fun!
Until I walked by him and got a whiff of the most vile body odor, ever. And I've been to Germany! Believe me when I say he had never, ever, ever bathed, washed his clothes, or "defiled" his body with deodorant. Because, you know, PIRATE.
And then saw his seat assignment.
Yep. Right next to me.
I braced myself for the five hour flight, with a scarf to wrap around my nose, and scented hand lotion which I huffed at regular intervals.
If smells had colors (and you kinda could see fumes radiating off this dude) then his aura would have been acid green with streaks of dried blood red. He smelled like the floor of a charnel house that had been washed down with urine.
Old urine. From angry goats.
With time on the runway waiting for the de-icer, and then 30 minutes in the de-icer, the whole olfactory ordeal took about six hours. Recovery involved a gallon of Febreeze for my coat and prophylactic squirts of Nasonex.
Learn from my tragic experience, and don't mock Pirate Elves in airports! They travel with Protective Stank Ass, and do not hesitate to unleash it on the entire coach section. You've been warned!