Sometimes it's just sexier to be fake

The fire tickled the fresh-cut logs, as the scent of isolation painted the cabin with cozy stillness.

My new husband and I, obnoxiously sappy amid the first 48 hours of our marriage, stepped over the threshold (a word only acknowledged by new brides, never to be used again) of the mountain retreat that was our honeymoon.

Visions of sugarplums, porch swings, bird songs and calling each other "schmoopy" in the shadows of the fireplace danced through my head. No cell service or Internet. Just a stack of books, a teapot, my beloved and... two terrified eyes gaping at me from a decapitated head that had been nailed to the wall.

It wasn't the remnants of a voodoo ceremony or an ancient Roman battle. It was a bobcat. And an elk. And a deer. And a zoo of hunting trophies, paralyzed in their death for decorative purposes.

Now, I'm not committed enough to be an activist or rich enough to be a Boulderite or a vegan. I grew up in the mountains and learned how to brandish a shotgun before I could dress myself.
I've killed a snake with a shovel and eaten elk jerky and even Rocky Mountain oysters.

I just think it's gross to hang them on my body.

Decorating your house with preserved carcasses is like wearing a real fur coat or snakeskin boots. My closet is more sparkly and impractical than a Vegas showgirl's bustier, but it is not deceased. I own a floor-length faux fur black cape, a fake fur hand muff, and I recently acquired an Urban Outfitters coat made entirely out of fake feathers (which, according to the drunk guys who stopped me on New Year's Eve, actually looks like woolly mammoth or perhaps pterodactyl).

My closet boasts more faux leather skirts and corsets than food crumbs stuck in all of the Hell's Angels' beards combined. And I have enough fake snakeskin to clothe a fake python long enough to fake squeeze a fake elephant to fake death -- and subsequently enough of said elephant's imitation ivory jewelry to build a tower for at least half of Boulder to sit in.

My statement isn't political; it's fashionable. We are not cavemen, so we have options to not have to rub against rotting bones, flesh and fur of dead animals. Why don't we crystallize livers and hang them from our earlobes, or concoct an entire dress out of meat slabs? Oh wait, Lady Gaga did.

Let me explain something here.

When I first met my husband, before that one day I used the word "threshold," his mutt of a dog, Stitch, was almost a deal-breaker. Stitch is like Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown, except instead of dust, she constantly walks in a cloud of white dog fluff. If I try to sweep up her hair, before I get to the dustpan, the hair has already regenerated in every corner -- even if Stitch is locked outside. She actually drops tiny hair seed pods, which procreate when they touch oxygen and then multiply exponentially, like Gremlins, or H1N1, or the terrifying trend of jeggings.

More than half of my waking hours are spent trying to escape animal fur; the idea of intentionally swathing my body with it makes me twitch.

I am sure there are more profound reasons to protest fur apparel, just like I'm sure Lady Gaga had some underlying sanity to her bloody steak suit. But for me, I've got enough leverage to stand my ground on the mere evolution out of the Neanderthal and into a species with more options, and better-smelling synthetics. Ones that don't spy on you with shell-shocked, frozen eyeballs while you're trying to get your honeymoon on.

Perverted bobcats.

We all look stupid in skinny jeans

Striped socks, funky skirt from The Ritz - it's Fashion Under the Flatirons. ( Jonathan Castner)

I promise ye this: Some day, we will look back at jeggings and laugh. Big, wild, side-aching, tear-inducing guffaws.

That day is today.

Come on, World. Can't you see that jeggings (leggings with denim-print fabric, complete with painted-on pockets and fake zippers) are Pajama Jeans without the infomercial?

The pressure from the skinny-jeans trend has pushed otherwise fashionable women into dark, desperate places. Places with fake pockets and elastic waistbands. That's because skinny jeans are designed for 13-year-old emo boys, German technomeisters and Skeletor. Not women. And certainly not comfort.

I look stupid in skinny jeans. There. I said it. And you can admit it, too. The skin-tight legs force my calf flesh ever-upward until it inner tubes over the top of the waist. Skinny jeans make me look pointy toward the ankles, inaccurately thigh-heavy and they give me body-image issues I never knew I had before. That is because I have estrogen, and because this particular trend is not flattering for my shape.

And that is OK.

Part of fashion is honesty: recognizing and accepting what flatters and what flattens, what works and what is too much work. And sneaky Pajama Jeans trying to disguise themselves as designer denim is simply a lie.

Needless to say, my pointy feet were happy to see more wide-legged jeans and pants in the Fashion Under the Flatirons fashion show on March 10.

The second-annual show, organized by Downtown Boulder Inc., highlighted about 60 different outfits from downtown Boulder businesses.

"One of the things that is so great is it gives stores a chance to give a side of themselves that people might not know about," says Anna Salim, event manager. "For example, everyone knows The Ritz has costumes, but not everyone knows they have great boutiquey things that are really fashionable."

Or that Little Mountain Outfitters is one of the only stores in the state that specializes in outdoor clothing for kids -- despite the obvious perfect fit for a city like Boulder.

Terri Takata-Smith, director of marketing for Downtown Boulder, says the Pearl Street and surrounding area's 49-square blocks offer a wide range of prices, fashion tastes and hidden treasures

"It is a one-stop shop that isn't your typical mall," she says.

Here are a few spring and summer trends to look forward to, according to Kathy King with Barbara & Company, 1505 Pearl St., which featured several outfits in the show:

Tops: Look for doleman sleeves, which are full sleeves that are wide at the armhole but narrow at the wrist. Also look for drapey georgette-style tops with a slight '70s feel.

Accessories: "Multimedia" scarves, with multiple fabrics, patterns and accents, like beading and roping. Multi-strand, long necklaces with leather cords and ivory, turquoise and silver charms.

Colors: Bright corals, oranges and bright pinks, as well as every shade of blue. Even navy, but only with trendy clothes; otherwise, it looks too old.

Pants: Although skinny jeans are still in and will be strong for a while, wider-leg pants are on the horizon. Want to be ahead of the trends? Pick up some white linen pants with a softer leg. White is a great way to tone down the bright tops.