Delicious Catty Goodness

OK, I'll admit it. Though I often hide behind a shy and proper alter ego, the true HC is one catty bitch. This won't come as a surprise to those who know me best, of course. My earliest meow moments were shared with my best friend J. We've known each other since 9th grade, and when it comes to the fashion faux pas of our high school and college classmates, we have looooong memories. To the boy named Kelly who wore the Z. Cav balloon pants well into the mid-1990s, I want you to know that you've provided many hours of giggles, and for that , I want to extend a hearty thanks to you and your fabulously huge pants.

Naturally, we show little mercy towards one another, either. Mostly we laugh about it, but I think J may still harbor a touch of resentment for the time I told her that her new brown lipstick was perfect if she wanted to look like she just kissed a turd. And truthfully, it stings a bit that she still brings up the Perm Disaster of 1998 and asks if I still run from the perm smell near the mall salons. Yes. Yes, I do run. And my perfectly straight hair looks gorgeous fanning out behind me as I seek solace in Nine West.

These days, I have to fulfill my snark cravings online or by phone, as my mostly Amish neighbors don't seem to share my love for all things bitchy. Or maybe they do and they're cracking on my Old Navy yoga pants in German. I hope not, because where could I go with that? Return fire with a dig about the apron being so last season? Besides, which is the bigger sin - yoga pants or bloomers?

One of my favorite ways to get a catty chat fix is checking in with one of the many celeb-mocking blogs. I have a soft spot in my cold, cold heart for Snarkywood, because I've known contributor Martha through Delphi forums for a few years now. Not only is she wicked funny, she's teamed up with two others who share the love of verbal celebrity smackdowns, and the result is extraordinary. If I could snark with these women all day, I think I'd die happy. If you're ever in need of a little pick-me-up, I highly recommend the Snarkywood piece on Donatella Versace, in the March 05 archive. If you can look at Donatella's smooshy collagen lips, incredibly tight and not at all flattering wardrobe and bleary but happy heroin eyes without laughing, there is no help to be had for you.