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Every day Westword receptionist Steve Burge gives you the fashionable view from the front desk.

A wise man once sang, “Save a horse! Ride a cowboy!” Profound lyrics most certainly inspired by a shirt such as this. Editorial stud muffin, Jonathan, puts the “CO” in “Cowtown” and shows off some pride for his home state in this pearl snapped shirt by Rockmount Ranch Wear. It takes a special kinda playa to pull off such a… daring… look, wouldn’t you say? Namely, the associate editor of Westword OR! our very own Mayor John Hickenlooper. (See the piece in Off Limits.) “Off Limits?” More like “Off the Hook!” Eat your heart out, John Wayne!

- Steve Burge

Slide Show

If you chose to spend last weekend anywhere other than the Pink Elephant Room, you
made a bad choice. Lucky for you, though, there will be ample chances to redeem yourself. Every Friday and Saturday, PS 1515, at the corner of Madison and Colfax, transforms itself into the modern-day speakeasy/burlesque club called The Pink Elephant Room. The crowd on opening night was almost as eclectic as the clothes the girls shed throughout the evening.

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Every day Westword receptionist Steve Burge gives you the fashionable view from the front desk.

Retail Sales Rep. and resident bombshell, Deanna, takes a minute to put her feet up. Can you blame her, though? Those stiletto boots must be hurting her pretty badly… cuz they’re killing me! If things don’t work out here, looks like Deanna will have no trouble making a living as a dominatrix, huh?

Boots: BCBG
Sunglasses: Gucci
Fish Net Stockings: True Love
Leather Skirt: Express
Turtleneck: Gap

- Steve Burge

I’ll admit it. I’m one of those finicky-to-a-fault shoppers who eschews the mall like a sink full of dirty dishes. I hate dressing like everyone else does. No knee-length black jackets for me. No wide belts. And, no matter how much you entice me with your practical-yet-cute appeal, sorry, ballet-flats, no to you as well. I’m a stickler for originality. Problem is, I’m also outrageously cheap. So last month, when I realized that every piece of clothing I owned either had a hole in it or was dangerously close to developing one, I knew it was time for my once-a-year-on-even-years-only shopping day. Either that or wield a needle and thread. And I take to sewing even less than washing dishes.

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Every day Westword receptionist Steve Burge gives you the fashionable view from the front desk.

Mandy shows off her confidence and a whole lot more in this little shortie of skirt. Who needs a stuffy business suit when the Lord above has blessed you with stems like these? I think it's time for offices the world over to rethink their dullsville dress codes. And Westword is ready to lead that movement! So break out the shears, ladies. (But make sure you avoid the paparazzi when climbing out of you car.)

-Steve Burge

Every day Westword receptionist Steve Burge gives you the fashionable view from the front desk.

Our spicy little spitfire rocks the dots, proving that a classic fashion trend never goes out of style. Worn here with a black business suit, RayAnn’s plunging neckline and flirty polka dotted blouse add a little sex appeal to the traditional office attire. Add some designer eyeglasses and a pair of sassy black heels and we have ourselves the perfect blend of savvy and sexy. Sorry boys… this office vixen isn’t looking to hire an assistant anytime soon, but if a spot opens up on her team, we’ll be sure to let you know.

Stats:
Name – RayAnn
Age – Legal
Job Title – Operations Coordinator
Glasses by – Guess
Ensemble by – Charlotte Rousse
Shoes by – Guess

- Steve Burge

Green looks like it will continue to be fashion's new black in 2008. And as environmental concerns escalate, it sure feels good to be able to indulge in a cute new dress or a pair of shoes without any fear of hurting Mother Earth.

There are a few easy ways to shop and dress “green.” You can buy new clothing from an eco-fashion company that uses organic fibers or other earth-friendly materials. You can also buy gently used clothes from thrift stores, consignment shops or even off of Craigslist. By reusing clothing, you can keep it out of the landfills and find some unique looks at the same time.

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Depending on whom you ask, thrift store shopping is either a thrilling exploration to find treasures untold, or it’s a huge, time-sucking pain in the ass to locate one good vintage t-shirt. Thriftonista, a new Denver company, subscribes to both world views. TaRosa Jacobs and Rebekah Adams, two new mothers who met in their home birthing class, started Thriftonista because they love to shop, but realized that not everybody else has the patience for it.

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Slide Show

Yesterday, the National Western Stock Show took to the streets of downtown Denver with its annual parade. There were loads of longhorns, heaps of horses, copious cowboys, rafts of ranchers, and a jillion journalists to document their every move. But more noteworthy than the parade were the parade-goers themselves, the workaday Coloradoans who watched the pageant roll on by. You see, Mayor Hickenlooper deemed yesterday “Dress Western Day.”

So even though the weather was cold enough that the horse shit was steaming before it hit the ground, parade goers arrived in style. Because, unlike Madonna and Jessica Simpson would have you believe, they know that Western wear isn’t meant for warm-weather lounging. It’s meant for frigid mornings herding cattle onto the plains, or, in this case, 17th Street. In other words, out with the daisy dukes and in with the Carhartts. Out with the sexy rhinestoned cowboy hats (except on the rodeo queens, bless your hearts), and in with the wide-brimmed Stetsons. And while we’re at it, out with the stiletto cowboy boots, because, well, they’re ugly.

That said, cowboy attire doesn’t have to eschew fashion for function, and on that count, Denver’s parade goers all but failed. So in hopes of an even better “Dress Western Day” next year, here is a slide show list of Western wear Dos and Don’ts based on the parade.
-- Naomi Zeveloff

Not too long ago, a dear friend of mine (Let’s call her something fabulous like… “Bianca”) called me up in hysterics. It seemed that her boyfriend of over a year (Let’s call him “Big Fat Jack Ass) had fallen out of love with her and decided it best to break the news to her voicemail.

Margaritas were definitely in order.

I immediately went to Mezcal, ordered a drink and mentally rehearsed all the things I wanted to say about “Big Fat Jack Ass.” Fifteen minutes later, a woman who slightly resembled “Bianca” flopped down in the seat across from me. I was aghast.

“Oh. My. Gawd.”

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Quick story: some friends of mine and I were at Six Flags Magic Mountain out in California. It was the late 80s, and we were freshmen in college, on our first road trip. We had, as college freshmen tend to have, plans and dreams. (More the latter than the former, but still.) Magic Mountain, at that time, had a late-night show they did over a small pond they called Mirror Lake—it was a fireworks show. And it was great. Stirring. The explosives, the red-white-and blue, the patriotic music and, honestly, the times in which we were living all came together in this perfect combination. When it was over, we sat there for a minute or so, and then one of my friends turned to me and said "Damn, I want to go join the Army now." And if the Army had had a recruiting station outside Mirror Lake? We might have enlisted, plans and dreams be damned. It was that powerful.

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This is some painful déjà vu. Was it not enough that it's nearly 20 years later, and we still have a Bush in the White House? Do we really need to revisit American Gladiators?

NBC apparently thinks so. The peacock network resorted to bringing back this product of the Reagan-era into its prime-time line-up last Monday night. The reason why is clear: it's unscripted and cheap to produce. And during these dark times for television (thanks, Writer's Strike!), unscripted shows mean fresh shows. Sort of.

But really, American Gladiators? Did we have to sink so far, so fast?

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Television has just gotten bigger. The 150" plasma Panasonic was unveiled this week at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas. It's approximately eight feet by eleven feet, which means that it's pretty much your living room wall. And if you buy one, you're contractually obligated to change your name to Guy Montag, and start burning away the danger of the written word.

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Well, they’re back. And two, at least, are bushy.

David Letterman and Conan O’Brien returned to the air Wednesday night, each sporting a strike-beard, which apparently is a thing. Why, exactly, I don’t know. On Conan, it actually worked—it lent him a sort of gravitas, sort of a young Obi-Wan thing. The beard aged poor Dave about twenty years. He said it himself: “I know what you’re thinking: Dave looks like a missing hiker.” Or, perhaps, the grizzled old insane guy who lives in the woods who finds that hiker.

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Here’s the question: should, in fact, old acquaintance be forgot? Has the venerable New Year’s Rockin’ Eve run its course?

This isn’t so much about Dick Clark, or whether he’s ready for the pasture. He’s not. He never will be. Despite a massive stroke in 2004, which caused him to miss the first NYRE telecast since the show’s inception in 1972, Dick Clark has been back behind the desk (though perhaps in pre-taped segments) in years since. When he returned in 2005, he said of his stroke, “It’s been a long, hard fight. My speech isn’t perfect, but it’s getting there.” And it’s still not perfect; it’s still getting there. But the guy has earned the spotlight, earned his continued time behind the mike for however long he wants it. And as I said, this isn’t about Dick Clark.

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