If Cupcakes were Paintings: Quest Skinner Paints DC

I found one thing more beautiful than leopard print; the art of Quest Skinner.

Not to sound like a complete doofus, but I've never really been one for art before. Of course, I took the mandatory art credits needed in high school to graduate (I'll never forget the beautiful sculpture I made of Spiderwoman for the Bay View Academy Art Fair in 8th grade and everyone, including my mother, thought it looked like a purple and red hotdog...just a side note) and can tell the difference between a Monet and a Manet. But, sorry, I would much rather splurge on a Balenciaga bag than a painting that I don't even understand its premise. It's like looking at a Rorscach ink blot; most people see a butterfly and I see Michael Jackson's face (scary). Just an example to show you what I have the tendency to get out of things.

It wasn't until one Sunday afternoon that I was strolling through South East's lovely Eastern Market with my good friend Christina that I saw something absolutely orgasmic for my eyes. Unlike all of the other painters I saw throughout the market that day, this one tent was filled with glossy, colorful, and glittery glass canvases filled with fantasy subjects that resembled Barbie dolls on acid (Michael Kors uses this reference too in an episode of Project Runway, FYI). These paintings were girly, elaborate, screamed emotion, and were entirely embelished and bezalled with either glitter, golden flakes, or other unique additives. They looked like all little pieces of candy and I wanted to eat all of them (typical). After approaching the tent and getting a warm hello and hug upon meeting Her Highness, it was at that moment that I wished I was independently wealthy and could buy everything Quest Skinner had designed (Actually, let's be honest, not the first time I've had that wish). After making Christina want to kill me after being indecisive about my purchase, I went with a gorgeous glittery purple print of a curvy lady with blue skin and a haircut that resembled mine at the time. And, as a first time buyer, I got the decently sized masterpiece for a mere $120 (Half price and a deal that Quest gives to all first time buyers FYI)! Now, my house is bezzaled with five of her beautiful pieces, despite the feelings of my male roommates and the explanations they have to give when they bring females home.

Seeing my first Quest Skinner was like trying my first Georgetown cupcake. It aroused my senses and played with my inner child. The same way I don't care about calorie count when I bite into a Georgetown cupcake is the same way I feel when I buy a Quest Skinner no matter how outrageous or impractical my purchase may have been. And, if there was a painting I would ever want to have for dessert, it would be a Quest Skinner, obvi.

Born in Pittsburgh, PA but considering herself a true Washingtonienne, Quest Skinner has painted various murals around DC and is a featured artist in the DC Commission of the Arts & Humanities. You can find her on Saturdays and Sundays at Eastern Market (7th St & North Carolina Ave SE) and is also featured at various Artomatic showings (55 M Street SE, Booth 509). Quest is truly an artist who can rope people into falling in love with art who don't even like art to begin with. Check her out online at www.myspace.com/questskinner.

See you at Eastern Market this Sunday,

Angela =)

Sparkles and cleavage and neon, OH MY!

It is very rare that I have such strong convictions for a designer. The same thing happens to all of us; Without naming any names, we throw all of our trust onto the one *it* designer that seems to be all the rage until we finally make it to Bloomingdales to try on pieces for ourselves and realize that they were probably only made for the Kate Mosses, Chloe Sevignys, and Mischa Bartons (or Mushy Fartone, a la fellow blogger Perez Hilton) of the world. The cuts are in all of the wrong and most unflattering places, my love handles look like two doughboys dangling from either sides of my hips, and my breasts are pushed apart from each other in such an offensive way that it looks like I'm milking. These "designers" who supposedly sculpt the fashion ideals for each season don't cease to amaze me in how they manage to make my body look anything but fashionable when I wear their clothes.

Don't get me wrong; I definitely love and appreicate good style, read my InStyle magazine and sift through the Saks 5th Avenue sale racks in Chevy Chase at the end of each season with the endurance of an athlete. But do you know how happy it makes me when I FINALLY find a designer who actually enhances my body?

For the past two years, I've had an obsession with Sky, a moderately priced Los Angeles-based clothing line of tops and dresses that completely enhance the person lucky enough to be adorned in their regalness. Utilizing all bright and dramatic colors, Sky showcases everything from clubby halter tops to ornate maxi-dresses holding consistency in their image with the sparkly (and often heavy-but worth it) and sometimes gaudy pendents always situated beneath the bust line.

These clothes work miracles, let me tell you. With the majority of their tops having breast cups, Sky can turn Rosie O'Donnell's breasts into two perfect little LaLohan lumps. Plus, they're great for clubbing, but more importantly, great for nights of heavy eating when you still want to look sexy. Being tight in chest area but always loose from that point downward, they are a Wonderbra for the body that may leave the man for a surprise when he chooses to disrobe his prize at the end of the night. Regardless, DC girls really need to get on the band wagon with this one.

If you're looking for a deal on these sometimes expensive but necessary pieces in every woman's wardrobe, a good friend of mine from Rhode Island, Kelly Salvati, launched a very successful website that sometimes carries pieces for as much as half off! Check out http://www.shopritzyrags.com/ for some sweet deals on Sky, and along with that, a barely there midsection with Jessica Simpson boobs. Because what's better than diamond embelishments and great cleavage?

Think about it.

xo,

Angela

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