They don’t look like much, but they’re lovely, and not as sparkly as the name would suggest. And they slip into a pocket. We own four. And we really want the “freesia.” We’re going a little bit overboard here, but so be it. Glitter! And it stays in place better than any other eye liner we’ve ever used: slightly annoying in that there’s really no way around the glitter, and not all occasions call for it. But when they do: Glitter Stix. Love them. $8.

This is the most beautiful thing we’ve seen in ages. We add it to make up for the crazy ranting two posts below.

Sarah McGuire bracelets, p45, $338

We recently heard from our wonderful FOB Daniel Franco, our very favorite Project Runway contestant ever. Though we never doubted his tip-top morality, he’s taken a moment to explicate what he felt was an awkward moment from last week’s show. As we said, we never doubted him for a second, but in case there are some haters out there, here’s what he had to say:

This is probably not worth writing about, however…

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This entire story is a bit more psychotic than we usually like to get in this space, but bear with us, as we are still shaking with rage and that feeling you get when you want to rip out a customer service representative’s neck with your teeth. Generally our favorite thing in the world is flying home to Brooklyn: Home! Brooklyn! People who have been our friend for more than six months! Bagels that taste like bagels! Three molding apples in the organic "section"! And though our trip will be sullied by the horrible reality that we are here to go to the dentist, we were not going to let that get in the way of our trip-enjoyment.

It’s 5:09 a.m. Our SuperShuttle is due at 5:10. The doorbell rings. It is still 5:09. We answer the door  barefoot, because we are wearing Uggs to the airport, to avoid the ridiculous unlacing problem at security, and all we need to do is run upstairs and get them and our bag. Generally, we would bring the bags down with us, but we were right near the door when the bell rang. So, there we are.

"You’re not to go," the jackass at the door says. "You don’t even have any shoes on."

"They’re just Uggs — " we’re saying as he turns around, so we are literally speaking to his back. And then we realize he is actually leaving. "Are you actually leaving?" we are shrieking across our ghetto street at 5:10 in the morning.

We run upstairs. We call SuperShuttle at 5:11. Halfway through our profanity-laced diatribe, the line disconnects. We call back. It’s 5:12. "Are you fucking kidding me?" and "I would have been ready if he wasn’t one minute early" are our general points. The line disconnects again. We call a third time. This time, we speak to a woman who replies: "Well, if you’re standing outside and now it’s 5:15, you were five minutes late—" "But but but," we stutter. "This is the third time we’ve called in the past five minutes!"

"We can send someone at 5:40," she says. "Take it or leave it."

We take it. Because we live in the ghetto and we are too scared to walk to BART. We sit outside, on our bags. We wait. It is 5:40. 5:45. 5:50. We are calling SuperShuttle to complain when there’s call waiting. "I’ll be there in two minutes," a man says.

Five minutes later, our roommate Kristen comes home. "Is that yours?" she says, pointing up the street. We look. We see plumes of smoke. The van rolls up. It is possibly two minutes from actually exploding. Four businessmen fall out. Three run up the street and snag a cab. "Mother-fucking-fuckers," we say. We pull out our digital camera and start taking pictures so that when we contest the charge, we will have proof to send to American Express. We are thinking that this is actually not so bad, because what we really wanted after that miserable wretch at our door was to not pay SuperShuttle, and now we have a valid reason not to do so.

The fourth business man says, "Do you want to split a cab?" We do. We are at the airport 15 minutes later. With tip, the fare is $4 less than SuperShuttle. The businessman, who works for the Department of Homeland Security, wishes us a nice flight. "Keep New York safe," we say, in a horribly cheesy way we could not have predicted.

Long rant short: We recently heard someone described as "incadescent with rage," and that is an accurate approximation of our morning. We finish by sharing some information about excellent alternatives to SuperShuttle, because the best way to feel better about their jackass-ery would be to encourage people to use their competitors. And you know, the second, broken-down van: Fair enough. Shit happens. We’re just not over the guy taking one look at our feet and walking away. Even a rude, "You have 60 seconds and we’re out of here" would have been enough.

Moving along: We heartily recommend taking a cab if it’s quite early, or quite late at night. Our fare with tip was $33.

BART is a wonderful option if you don’t have too many bags. We have often said, "Why can’t we have this in New York?"  after riding it from SFO. Too bad it closes at sundown or something.

And then if a shuttle is right, we like Quake City. There rates about the same, and so far they have yet to prove to be humungous assholes.

We feel a bit better now, even if we still have to go to the dentist tomorrow.

Please, please feel free to add your own rant to the comments section, and then we will not feel quite so crazy. And if we’ve convinced you not to use SuperShuttle, please e-mail us. When we get a certain number of responses, we will consider our anger sated and move on.

We’ve often wondered about the logic of the "mini" and "baby" and whatever handbags: Do they separate the group of people who would pay $1300, but not $1700 for a handbag? Can that line really be so fine? Or is it more about the people who remembered to put their names on a waiting list, versus the people who are like, "Huh? Waiting list?" We don’t know. We often question the wisdom of the "it" bag. Nicole Richie has one, and we don’t want anything she has, except possibly for the trust fund. We would love the trust fund. We are going to file this under "lark" versus "We just saw The Constant Gardener and cannot fucking believe we would ever consider spending $1000 on a handbag when Rachel Weisz is getting gunned down in Africa for the good of mankind."

Argh. The Chloe Mini Paddington, $1300

We were recently in one of those moods where you’re like, "I must spend money! Money, money, money! Money! Ha ha ha ha!" because you just got paid or you’re annoyed that Al Gore isn’t president even though he clearly won Florida or whatever else. So we walked into Lush, credit cards sitting angrily, unused, in our pockets, and we had that experience we always have at Lush: We don’t take long baths, so all that "bath bomb" stuff is like "la la la la" in our ears, and all those things that were like "Conditioner for soft water!" or "Hard water!" or whatever just seemed like so much made-up bullshit, and we were about to do what we always do when we go to Lush—which is, leave without buying anything—when we saw Ocean Salt.

Nevermind that we’d originally gone into the store looking for hand soap for our bathroom, where, for lack of other acceptable choices, we’ve taken to washing our hands with our rapidly-dissolving $4 bottle of Korres shower gel, which we won’t be able to replace for less than $15, which is an extremely painful process. They had no soaps, but they did have this Ocean Salt. Now, we love oceans and we’re addicted to salt, and, of course, we really wanted to spend a small amount of money on something totally useless. So we did. But: It is not useless. In fact, we used it tonight and — we say this, taking small breaks to do exactly what we are about to type — we cannot stop touching our singularly smooth face. It may never have been smoother, even when we were but a wee bairn, in our cradle, admiring a mobile and spitting up fruit. It is amazing. It is unbelievable. It is made of "fine and coarse sea salt," grapefruit and lime things. And it doesn’t even taste bad (as noted: salt addiction).

We are, we are surprised to admit, converts. We are having one of those moments you have when you buy a beauty product and it actually works. And okay, so it is, in fact, just scrubbing salt into your face. Maybe gravel would work just as well. When they package and market gravel, we’ll know for sure. Until then, we remain satisfied. (And very soft.)

We know a stylist. She is that girl who can wear shorts and ski boots and a tie-dyed tank top, and somehow it looks appropriate. We would hate her if she wasn’t so otherwise inoffensive. And willing to field questions from our readers. Because what would be better than an actual stylist answering actual questions? Possibly a slice of carrot cake. Lacking the cake, here are the questions. Question. Singular, for now, but if you have one, send it over! She is all powerful and all knowing.

The question: "I just found out I have to go to an actual beach wedding in Hawaii. They are rich hippies, I am not. And we are all supposed to wear something white and summery. Please help."

And our house stylist says:

"I would begin with this BCBG dress, which is very similar to a much more expensive DVF dress." [We will add here that it is also free of DVF smarm. Yay!] Amazon BCBG dress, $160

"I’m totally into these white-rim Kate Spade sunglasses. They’re not the same white as the [off-white] bag and dress, but I don’t care, they’re so hot." The Adie, $160

"You could definitely go with something dressier, but this crocheted bag from Miu Miu is a little nod to the hippie atmosphere." Miu Miu Crochet Frame bag, $765. At that price, it’s more boho chic than hippie, but fine.

"These are my favorite shoes of the season, and very hippie wedding." We are concerned about their appropriateness in the sand. Havaianas, we say! Burberry Studded Leather Sandals, $295

"And for a necklace, I’d suggest either something huge and funky and maybe Mexican or folk art, or something quite delicate." She didn’t have an example, and we didn’t know where to begin to look for "Mexican or folk art." And that wraps up our first Ask a Stylist! Now, please, ask our stylist something. She has nothing better to do.

Okay, so, to be clear, this is not our dream Luella bag. And in fact, we must say that our whole conception of the "dream Luella bag" took a serious hit this month, when we were so depressed by the Luella \ Target situation. (Blerg.) We remain, thus far, fans of the original.

Getting back to the point, the bag we want, despite the Target debacle, is the bag on the left mated with the bag on the right: the brown color, the Stevie shape. (This is true although part of us is scarily, shockingly, drawn to the bizarre red, white, blue and black combo. But maybe we will call this the Spring Extravaganza of Bags Somehow Still Available For Purchase Online. Because when you have parameters like that, you have options like the red, white, blue and black combo. Which, again, we find ourselves mysteriously, horribly drawn to. Sort of like Patrick Dempsey. Don’t get it. The Jazzy Strap Suzi Tote, $1100, and the Stevie Karung Satchel, $1895

Can a fall ’05 it bag be a spring ’06 it bag? But of course. We acknowledge here that there are lame, jackass-y girls who will disagree with us, but they are lame and jackass-y, and we don’t care what they think. Er, we say we don’t, until one dates our roommate, and then she sees us in our kitchen wearing a t-shirt and running shorts and she actually gives us that rich-girl staredown that makes us want to shove a whisk down her throat. The rich girl, not the roommate, who is quite nice, and don’t ask us why he dates such a lame jackass.

Anyway, the lame jackass would probably not approve of the Fendi Spy. We, however, do, and we stand by it. In black, however, and not this bizarre orange color. We are not above being snobs where appropriate. The Fendi Spy, $2075

[Firstly: Don't miss our salute to Kara's runway presentation. We're not sure she would have lost if she'd been judged. Actually, we think she might have won. And we say that having just watched the season finale and added this note.]

The whole Kara Janx thing is so difficult: She lost, obviously, but her decoy collection was so non-decoy-ish that we feel a little enamoured with her, more than we would have been if she’d actually won. That is one reason we are happy to point to this kimono dress, which she was wearing (er, not actually the same one; this isn’t some weird as-worn-by auction) on her last episode.

Hrm. Maybe we’d even prefer Santino’s jumpsuit, but Kara had a surprisingly pop-y body for such a granola girl. Because we just don’t expect hippie girls to have big boobs, you know? But this is the one Michael Kors got all twatty about, and though we disagree with his twattiness, we agree with his point. She deserved to lose last week. But this dress is … sweet? Hot? Covetable? Who knows? We like it like we like that ad where all the people destroy the Gap. Er, okay, maybe not that much, because that ad is perfect. But we like this dress quite a bit.

Anyway! Kara Janx Kimono Dress, $210