Monthly Archives: May 2012

Thirsty Thursday: The Launch (Party)

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And thirsty it was! Last Thursday Hadley and I decided to celebrate the launch of the blog by inviting a few of our closest and most fabulous friends (everyone we knew) to one of our favorite places: Sweet & Vicious. They are known for their margaritas in jars and their rad late 90′s/early 2000′s jams.  I am 110% sure I white girl danced my ass off to TLC’s ‘No Scrubs’ halfway through my first jar. Although we half expected it, I was not anticipating the soiree to turn into the raver it did. It was ten times better than my Bat Mitzvah (and I had a picture button machine and a body art lady at my Bat Mitzvah, so that shit is tough to beat).

(Top: Zara, Pants: Rag & Bone, Shoes: Alexander Wang, Hair Band: Duane Reade)

I wore my new digs to the party (ignore the mess, Hadley was over and we had 15 minutes to get ready, and that means no time to put options back on hangers). Because I am prone to spilling and because I am poor and have to hand wash all my pants in a plastic salad bowl my mother used to put 3D Doritos in at our middle school pool parties back in Tejas (remember that snack of kings?), I wouldn’t allow myself to wear these until the party. It was like a weird form of torture having to look at them every day for a week and NOT put them on. They’re pretty amazeballs. Way to go Rag & Bone, you win, again.

(On Hadley: Top: JCrew, Jeans: Levi’s, Clutch: Vintage)

This is the best (not joking, this did actually involve effort) picture of Hadley and myself. In my defense, we did take 3 before this and all of them had passers by in front of my face while Hadley laughed. By take 4 I chose not to look at the camera. I had given up hope.

Rather than relay a play by play of the evening, I will let the plethora of party pics taken by yours truly (and a handful of other select guests) a la instagram do the talking. Please enjoy. I know you are jealous.  Did I mention it was Fleet Week? Because if I hadn’t, I want you to know that I made friends in uniform that evening. I may or may not have given this guy seven high fives. His name was Adam. God bless you sir. Not only for all you do for our country, but for all you had to put up with from me and my overtly excited friends.






 

Swapping Closets: Molly is running late and Hadley is feeling catty

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Oh my god, we’re back again.  Bless BSB for those lyrics. They do so capture how I feel, on this here Wednesday, May 30th.  One week in, and we’re back for another closet swap.  Not only THAT, but we are one week into this here blog, and so far, so good.  Molly still likes me.  You people apparently think our antics are funny.  Or, at least people who have to think we are funny, like my mom, and also apparently, Mrs. Maxon.  (Thanks for reading!  Stanley Flowers forever!)

That being said.  Check this sweet shirt of Molly’s that I stole.  It should be noted it is in the “pajama top style” but is not actually a pajama top.  It should also be noted that wearing pajamas as real clothes is my number one goal every morning when I get dressed.  (Perhaps now is also the time to mention that the striped shirt I am wearing today at the office came from the pajama section of Old Navy.) 

(Shirt: The Reformation, Jeans: Target, Booties: Target, Necklace: Loehmann’s)

I obviously paired it with my leopard print jeans.  They are single handedly the greatest investment of my life.  I bought them at Target for a whopping $19.  The fact that I did not also get the brown pair still haunts me daily.  Honestly, I can’t even talk about it.  That and the fact I lost the 6th grade geography bee are two of the lowest moments of my life.

I know you are jealous — of both my jeans and my “athletic” thighs.  I know you are also jealous of my necklace from Loehmann’s.  Don’t worry, it dropped on my bathroom floor in November and two of the “diamonds” fell out.   I love it so much, I scrounged my bathroom floor for two hours to find them, saved them, brought them home in a plastic bag, and made my dad fix it with pliers on Christmas Eve so I could wear it to Midnight Mass.  Thanks for that, Richard;  you’re a real gem.  One day I will marry a man as awesome as you.  I will also require him to have a mustache just like yours. 

So, while I was going for…whatever look I was going for.  Let’s be real, I’d wear this to a bar and never get hit on. Then again, it isn’t a total wash because I wore lipstick.  Either way, Molly was going for awesome when she wore it.  That and looking really skinny.

(Jeans: Genetic Denim, Shoes: Calvin Klein, Specs: Warby Parker)

I remember when she bought these jeans at the Barney’s Warehouse Sale.  We grabbed drinks that night at the Bourgeois Pig and I swear she looked so skinny I wanted to feed her a cookie.  (Obviously a double chocolate from Subway — the best deal in Manhappening, 3 cookies for $1.)  If I were her, I would never take these jeans off my body.  Lucky for the world, I do not own them.  You can only wear wide legged jeans on so many occasions — unfortunately, my job is not one of them, and I like being employed.

Along with her Warby specs, Mollz also has enough wrist candy to lure unsuspecting children into her unmarked van.  (I can’t tell if this joke is inappropriate or hysterical.)  My favorite part is that she is wearing three watches all set to a different time.  We run on a schedule few others can follow.  And by few others, I mean, I have no schedule and am perpetually 15 minutes later.  I do what I can, people. 

I want you to know that if I tried to wear that many things on my limbs, I would look absolutely ridiculous.  I mean, straight bat shit crazy.  Molly looks cool.  There is a reason I’m the one who wears real pajamas in public.

All in all, I liked walking around wearing a silk coat of arms.  I felt just like Hugh Hefner — minus pretty much anything else that would make me feel like Hugh Hefner because he is 86 and I don’t own a sailor hat.

 






 

Hungover After Your Memorial Day Weekend Bender? How Funny, So Are We.

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I graduated from college almost exactly a year ago. How is that for a slap in the face, self? At 23, I have realized that my social life has changed. In college life was easy. I would come home from my Tuesday/Thursday 3:30 History of Japanese Painting class to my roommate and her boyfriend playing Mario Kart and handing me a beer (this was normal, I would come home to a lot crazier shit on the regular). The rest of my roommates would gradually pile in from whatever class their second-semester-senior behinds slept through and the afternoon would continue. Moving from beer pong in the basement to me making some hotdogs slash other assorted grocery meats on the grill (note: this is an impressive skill that I am proud of myself for learning how to master). One thing would lead to another, and I would wake up Friday morning confused and wearing 3 wristbands from the same bar. Enter the keyword of this post: Hangover.

College is over. And while I am still single, white, and female, I am older and have more bills to pay. This however, does not mean I am immune to the hangover of my glory days (but she sure does come a lot easier). As I have come to learn whilst living in NY, the local bagel shop line on Sunday mornings is far better than most of the walk of shame candidates I have come across in my four years at a large public university. The bagel is Manhattanite hangover gold. Carbs: Headache who? Cream Cheese: Maybe I could get the energy to shower today! Lox: Who is ready for a mimosa?

Hadley and I often find ourselves standing in this line (that is if the Seamless Delivery App isn’t working). Pick-A-Bagel was the closest, and closeness is king.  Why not throw on your favorite saggy boyfriend jeans and get out there kids?

(Sunglasses: Ray Ban, Sweater: Textile by Elizabeth & James, Jeans: 7 For All Mankind, Shoes: Dries Van Noten, Tote: Anthropologie)

Absolutely nothing is worse than living on the forth floor of a walk up after having one to many the night before. Hadley generally refuses to even come meet me in my apartment, she waits on the stoop. I need to move.

(Jacket: Urban Outfitters, Sweater: Joe Fresh, Tee: Old Navy, Jeans: Fossil, Flats: Steve Madden )

This picture tells the whole story. Obviously I was keeping my sunglasses on despite the clouds.  Also, why the hell does everyone and their mom spit their gum out in front of my apartment? Why am I just now noticing this? This is disgusting.  

I have very little patience when bagels are on the brain and realize that I look infinitely more attractive when chowing down on a hunk of carbohydrates. So I usually dig in. We hope everyone had a fantastic Memorial Day weekend and know that college or no college: the hangover is real and she is just as mean post-grad.

Photos by Anwar Ragep
 






 

it’s (still) the freaking weekend baby

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Happy Memorial Day, y’all.  Back to our regular scheduled programming tomorrow.  As for now, we’re busy legitimately melting on the fire escape.






Situational Dressing: Having brunch with some girl you went to high school with. You weren’t really friends then and you aren’t really friends now. Whatever, bygones?

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Disclaimer:  Molly and I hosted our launch party last night and I had 4 jargaritas at Sweet & Vicious.  Don’t worry, pictures of the madness to come.  (And, if you follow us on insta, I trust you’ve already seen some of THOSE gems.)  That being said,  I make no promises that this post will be any of the following: insightful and/or humorous and/or coherent.

Anyway.  When Mollz and I were brainstorming way back when about different posts for this here blog, we came up with the concept of an ongoing series called “Situational Dressing.”  Without question, we both often find ourselves in some of the first world’s weirdest situations that bring up serious sartorial quandaries.  We probably ask for them because we are freaks of nature, but I mean, seriously, what do you wear when you decided to buy that Groupon for a group hiking class through the Catskills and the only closed-toed shoes you own that could potentially be considered “atheletic” are your sparkly gold Toms because the last time you did something where you broke into a sweat was when you were in a fight with a 76 year old woman for a seat on the 6 train.  (I’d had a really long day.  Don’t judge me.)

Which brings me to this:  what are you supposed to wear when you are meeting up with a girl from your home town for “a super-fun-catch-up-because-oh-my-god-how-could-it-have-been-so-long brunch”?  Especially when the two of you weren’t exactly friends in high school.  Not because she wasn’t nice, but let’s be real.  I was a huge loser in high school.  I weighed like 11 lbs soaking wet, all I cared about was getting into college which explained my decision to take AP Chemistry and Physics in the same year, and I was on the debate team.  Nothing about me screamed even remotely awesome.  Not that anything about me is particularly awesome now, I just happen to live in an rad place.

With all of that in mind, I obviously decided to wear a sweater that could once again label me as “misunderstood.”     

(Pendleton Sweater: Anthropologie, Chambray Button Up: H&M, Jeans: Gap, Combat Boots: Nine West, Bag: Fossil, Sunglasses: Ray Ban)

Let’s be real.  This outfit is appropriate for the following reasons:

1. The sweater is mad awesome.  It is cozy and warm and soft.  I don’t like doing “brunch” because I don’t like waking up before 3 pm on the weekends.  This is as close to my pajamas in sweater-form that I could get. It also has lots of extra fabric on the sleeves that I can bunch up to function as a pillow should I feel a food coma coming on from all the carbs I will inevitably insist on ordering.  ”Yes, sir.  I would like a bagel as my side with my pancakes.”

2. Black jeans make you look skinny.  It is always important to look skinny when reconnecting with people who knew you when you were literally smaller than an American Girl Doll.

3. Combat boots for protection — both from the old lady mentioned above or if your high school frenemy brought a concealed weapon.

4.  You should also do your hair in an awesome way.  By doing that you (a) do not have to brush it (b) you also do not have to wash it (c) it makes you look cooler than you are. Literally, I braided my unbrushed, dirty hair and used bobby pins I found on the ground to complete this look.

There you have it folks.  Don’t you want to eat brunch with me meow?  Shockingly, I am free every weekend for the rest of my life.

Photos by Anwar Ragep