Bird by bird, baby

If I haven't made it obvious by now, I love birds. I love wall hangings of sparrows, silver necklaces with owl charms, birds on my t-shirts, on my plates, on my pillows. But, lest you think I live in an aviary, I've actually tempered my addiction by buying bird presents for others.

Davis Squared, a new gift boutique in -- well, do the math -- Davis Square, has a great selection of MeMe Baby onesies that I absolutely adore. I'm not above nagging married friends to have children prematurely, just so I can give them a "Goldfinch Baby Bodysuit":

[How lovely and whimsical.]

And in case you can't get enough:

The twee designs are inspired by birds of the Catskills and drawn and hand silk-screened by Dennis Witnauer (his wife, Jennifer Subrin, runs the company). The couple hopes to "smartly outfit the next generation," according to the MeMe website. At least someone is looking out for hipster babies!

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Risqué business

Why be a pirate for Halloween, when you can be a sexy pirate? Apparently, you can add ripped fishnets, skirt slits, and exposed red bra straps to any costume and – voila! – bring sexy back. It’s All Hallows Eve, not All Harlots Eve. Just saying.

Some costumes are meant to be truly seductive – Marilyn Monroe, flappers, etc. – but I’m over the whole sexing up of mundane outfits. A black tank top worn as a dress + boots with four-inch heels + furry ears do not make a cat. That’s just plain weak sauce.

I’m not 100% innocent. One indecent Halloween, I wrapped myself in a red pleather mini dress ($24.99) and stiletto boots ($30, obviously not leather) and stepped out as a sexy she-devil (priceless). Ugh, what was I thinking? Frankly, I thought I saw the last of the randy robots and sexpot sailors hanging around the fraternity beer pong table when I graduated college. But no. Perfectly sane women are still strutting down the street in next-to-nothing every Oct. 31.

And who could forget La Lohan's costume last year? She donned a full-body shiny leotard that left little to the imagination and a sweatband for Halloween last year. (Washed-up fitness instructor? A cry for help? Still not sure.)

Don’t get me wrong. I love Halloween and I’m no fun hater. But let’s see some creativity, people. The next person to dress like a Muppet wins my heart. No furry g-strings allowed.

[This rant brought to you by Courtney is Bitter After Visting the Garment District Last Night, Inc.]

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