Unqualified With J. Harvey: In Which A Reader Mistakes Me For Someone More Fabulous

Back with advice for your ass in 2008! Karate kick! Applause! This next letter is totally hot because I seriously think the chick thinks I’m either Mr. or Ms. Jay from “America’s Next Top Model”. I LOVE IT. So picture me as either bleach blond and orange in a lot of Diesel ugliness or tall, black and crazy with an Afro. We commence!

Dear J,

You are awesome, I’m surprised and delighted to finally find out that you have a blog. I have a question for you:
I am fashion retarded! I have been trying to be more daring and suave but I end up wearing the same 6 or 7 outfits to work. Even if they are better looking then the 4 or 5 I was wearing before my shopping trips it still makes me feel bland to be wearing the same outfits over and over. I have one pair on pants that I really like and routinely wear them every day with a wash here and there when I spill something on them, gross I know. What is the secret to having a great wardrobe without spending thousands and making them feel and look different from day to day? I started out as a tom boy and wore black t-shirts and jeans through most of my high school years. When I grew into myself and became leaner I discovered I could look like a girl and still be comfortable. Now I work in an office and I am bored with the no jeans, slacks & dickies looks. I hate wearing skirts to work because the thermometer here is run by constantly hot flashing women who will rip my eyes out of my head if I even try to touch the thermostat and it’s freezing most the time. Most of the stylish shirts I own right now, from a very successful shopping trip, are cut kind of low and make me very aware of what my boobs are doing during the day.



Girl, you need to make it fashion and come alive for this shoot! And not look like some kind of broken down busted up doll on the runway. Smile with your eyes like Ty Ty! Ok, that was my Mr. and Ms. Jay speak. I will actually try to help this chick out despite the identity confusion. Keep reading after the jump.

Dear Carmen,

The secret to a nice wardrobe is shoplifting. Seriously, get your ass in that changing room and double layer yourself up with the lastest styles. You would be surprised how much costume jewelry you can fit in your panties. It’s also always good to have a friend with you who will buy something small (a pair of socks?) and then start an argument with the cashier as a distraction. Decide on a code phrase as a signal for you to make a break for it. Like when you hear “you’re just a cashier, bitch!”, run really fast!

I kid.

Carmen, honey….I know NOTHING about fashion. I shop down at the Old Navy because they’re cheap and they actually fit my chubby ass. You seriously want to track down one of the Jays. I will try to help you out by telling you to stop wearing those black pants everyday because you’re probably stankin’ up the place. Seriously, Febreeze only goes so far. Here’s what I do. Go to a store that sells brand names for less and stock up. Find out when they get their new shipments in so you can get there first and go nuts. In the workplace, go with elegant and classy over cheap and having your tits hanging out. UNLESS you’re up for a promotion, and the bossman is into you AND if you can play it subtle. Remember, NO SLEEPING WITH THE BOSS. And as for those seven outfits? From now on, buy stuff that you can mix and match. Stretch that dollar! Oh, and as for the thermostat problem. Splurge on a cute cardigan in a neutral color that will go with everything. You DO NOT want to cross menopausal ladies. Those hot flashes turn civilized women into raging heat beasts. I hope this helped, and sorry I’m not actually on the “America’s Next Top Model” judging panel. Oh, if only.

Please continue to send your letters to other people that you’ve mistaken me for to harvey.advice@gmail.com! I love your e-mails!

Note to our readers, J. Harvey is in no way a counselor, advisor, professional, priest, or in any way qualified to be giving out advice. Please take it with a grain of salt and a sense of humor. In other words, don’t sue.