Anyone who's ever read Love, the L Train, and What I Wore (or one of my various odes to Ed Westwick) knows exactly three things about me: One, I spend more of my income on PBR than I care to admit, two, I have some pretty adorable pet gerbils, and three, I'm sick of being single. Dating is exhausting--and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise ("It's so much fun! I wish I were still single! Live it up!") hasn't experienced singledom for quite some time.
The other Monday night, I was watching The Bachelorette and Google image searching my favorite Des-hubby-hopeful Brooks (so dreamy) when I came across something wonderful: The Bachelor was hosting an open call in New York! No question about it, I was going. But first, I had to find something to wear.
Seeing as I'm still somewhat of a novice Bachelor/Bachelorette viewer (Sean's season was the first I'd watched in its entirety), I had some serious research to attend to--namely, consulting Fashionista's resident Bachelor/ette expert, Leah.
So we got right to it. As the Bachelor's casting website clearly states, solid colors, besides black or white, are preferable when it comes to anything on tape--but my closet contained some less than desirable brights. It had never occurred to me just how many busy prints and LBDs I'd accrued over the years. Oh well--nothing like a reality tv casting to warrant a wardrobe overhaul, right? Leah chimed in that my look should preferably show off my shape with a bit of cleav and leg, but nothing too tacky. The main difficulty lay in the task of finding a dress that was bright, flattering, and tasteful enough for the American public to swallow ('cause let's be real here, I'll totally get on the actual show) while staying true to myself and my Bardot-by-way-of-Waldorfian aesthetic. No Peter Pan collars allowed (tear).
So I went shopping, which I learned is a much quicker process when you're on a mission to find true love--and a demure, solid colored, bosom-baring dress. My goal was to find three dresses that were up to task. The first was a blue linen sundress-type from Urban Outfitters with scalloping details on the bust and pockets, and a snap in the back that seems to pop open at inopportune moments. I loved the dress, but was worried it was too "daytime" for primetime basic cable.
Next, I found a bright red modern-day Betty Draper Francis fit n' flare shirtdress from Armani Exchange. This one was more mature (I'm often mistaken for being younger than 26)--which I liked--and had that sassy professional vibe The Bachelor seems to favor in terms of prospective love interests. You'd be hard-pressed to find a romper at a rose ceremony, this I know.
My third option was a silky, olive green-colored minidress with buttons running down the front from H&M. It looked like something a sophisticated woman who goes on safari for vacation and only wears neutral colors might own--but as I stood in line to buy it, I realized I'd left my phone at the cash point in Armani Exchange. So that made my choice a little easier.
After a heated debate in the Fashionista office, I ended up settling on the blue dress: More playful, more me, and hopefully, more Bachelor. I paired it with simple diamond stud earrings (I wanted to steer clear of anything too trendy) and my tried-and-true black suede bow pumps from Topshop. But I wasn't ready just yet--my beauty routine needed a Bachelor makeover as well.
Makeup-wise, I generally lean toward the '60s sex kitten thing--thick winged liquid liner, bare lips (or sometimes a matte red lipstick), and bronzer. I had to tone things down, so I decided to try and recreate the makeup look I'd worn for a Victoria's Secret workout shoot I partook in last fall. America likes Victoria's Secret Angels, right? Sure it does! I still used my liquid liner, but I made sure to keep the line on the straight and narrow, tapering off to only the slightest flick, and added some sheer, shimmery mocha shadow. For my lips, I swiped on Dior Addict in Androgyne--a semi-sheer, sort of berry-peachy creme color. Red seems way too extreme for The Bachelor (anyone who's ever made out while wearing it knows why), and I learned from an actress friend that bare lips look too washed out on camera.
And finally, there was my hair. Following a few recent dye disasters, it was fried beyond its normal state of semi-bendy straw. So the night before the casting, I deep conditioned, and the morning of, I did my best to give my limp locks a bit of body with a curling iron and teasing brush. Let's just say that by the time I made it to ABC, it wasn't quite up to Bachelor standards--or the perfectly bouncy blowouts most of the girls in line with me seemed to be sporting. But maybe the casting directors will see through the frizz to my true, televised romantic love interest potential. And that's all I can say--I signed a release, after all! Now all I can do is wait... and pray that Des doesn't pick Brooks. 'Cause I kinda think we'd hit it off.