Monthly Archives: June 2012

Happy Friday, home slice(s)!

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This blog should probably have a subheading. “Hadley and Molly have little to no shame.”  Since yesterday, the views of my 8th grade dance video have skyrocketed.  Over 100 poor souls have watched me dance around Steph Waugh’s front yard in kitten heels. So, the below picture should not surprise you in the slightest. 

Molly and I are going to a Yankee’s game tomorrow.  Apparently, according to the world wide web, the Orioles are also a baseball team.  I have a very linear mind.   On that note, have the best weekend ever.  See you on Monday.

Thirsty Thursday: My younger brother turned 21. Enough. Said.

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This past weekend, I took the bus down to our beloved nation’s capital to celebrate my younger brother’s birthday.  He was turning 21.  Which is funny, because in my brain, he is approximately 12.  For reference of what Holdie was like at 12, please watch this YouTube video on my family’s YouTube channel.  (If you are really curious, I would highly recommend watching “Hadley 8th Grade Dance.) Regardless, this is what the dude looks like now.  

You might notice he is sitting next to Snow White.  This is Haven, his girlfriend, who makes me feel ugly 47% of the time I’m with her, and the other 53% of the time, just in awe of her coolness.  If you need a few moments to feel bad about yourself, I understand.

Anyway, a good time was had by all.  And by good time, I mean, by our 4th pitcher of margs, the restaurant had stopped seating people in our vicinity.  Also, on Monday, when I said that Holden and I drunk dialed my dad, I really wasn’t kidding.  I dragged along my three best District muchachos and the 6 of us ate our body weight in chips and salsa.  We also drank ourselves into oblivion.  Holdie’s actual birthday was a few weeks before, but seeing as I was in my personal hell (read: U-Haul, heatwave, and a 7th floor apartment) we had to push back our celebrating by a couple of weeks.  Personally, I saw this as being a plus.  I like to spend the entire month of November celebrating the day of my birth.

We obviously went to Cactus Cantina. Which, if you are not aware, is hands down the greatest eating establishment of all time.  (I do not exaggerate.)  Holdie and I have been going there since birth with our Aunt Molly.  You gotta go next time you’re in D.C.

Being that I’m a blogger now, I forced everyone to take pictures with me for “content.”  

*This photo was staged. 

*Shockingly, this photo was not staged.  

I hope you had the best birthday ever, Holdie.  I can’t believe you are 21.  I’m glad you survived.  On my 21st birthday, I was in bed by 8 pm.  I had also spent the hour prior to that in the Winston-Salem mall at a Brookstone trying to convince a salesman that I really was interested in purchasing a $2,000 massage chair, when, in all actuality, I just wanted a place to rest because I couldn’t remember how I got to the mall and I’d lost all my friends.  So, as long as that didn’t happen to you, I think you won.

Now, just because I have no shame, here is a photo of me the next morning. 

If you can’t tell, I am holding a Kindle on which I was reading 50 Shades Freed.  Don’t tell me what happens.  I’m almost done.

 






Those MIT Grads Ain’t Got Nothin: My Go-To Outfit

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Oh man, just look at the technological skills I possess. Are you jealous? I really was born a genius; the doctors just never realized it.  Anywho, this getup is my go-to outfit for work. Seriously, overkill would be an understatement. I may or may not wear this at least once a week. All I gotta say is it’s a good thing I don’t sweat a lot, otherwise my co-workers would slap me because God knows I can’t afford to get this shit dry cleaned that often.

(Blouse: Zara, Vest: Banana Republic, Skirt: Gap, Shoes: Dries Van Noten)

My point is, everyone should have an outfit like this. Something you can throw on and don’t have to think about, something that can work in a wide range of temperatures/seasons, and something that keeps you constantly on your toes (the skirt paired with subway wind gusts allows me the option of public nudity if so desired).

Photos by Jordan Jacobson, Gif building by me and a free website I found via Google






Blast from the Past: Hoarding & My Great Great Aunt’s Blouse

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As I have mentioned many a time, I have some kick ass family members. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and because of this I get to blame my problems on them – gotta love a validated finger pointing! Much like myself, my Grandmother (her name is legal name is Teal, but you may refer to her as Nannie) hoards clothes. She has 4 closets full of not only her own vintage pieces, but also a whole Neiman Marcus archive from her Aunt (also named Teal). When I was in high school, she used to pay me at a highly inflated hourly rate to organize these closets and dressers.  As an added bonus, I would also be able to keep anything I was particularly found of.  Luckily, both Teals have amaze taste and I have outfitted myself in their leftovers many a time. One of my favorites is this silk OGGI snakeskin printed blouse.

  (Blouse: OGGI, Jeans: Genetic Denim, Booties: Calvin Klein)

It used to have shoulder pads, but a quick two-minute, pre-party, in-the-bathroom-with-surgical-scissors decision resulted in their removal. I don’t regret it.  It should also be known that this does comes with a matching sequin skirt and sequin jacket that are in the same print.  While the accompanying items are endearing in their own rights individually, all together they would have made for one heck of a distraction at the office, so I opted for denim.

(Cuffs: Dannijo, Ring: Vintage, Bracelet: J. Crew, Watch: Michael Kors)

I have come to terms with my hoarding and have realized it is something I will never be cured of but must learn to live with in remission. I’m not ashamed. I am fortunate. I am fortunate to have grown up having someone that supported and enabled/enables my clothing obsession. Let’s face it, Teal and Gary even bought me these shoes (girlfriend can barely manage a monthly MetroCard). Gracias, Nannie and Papa.

So on your next visit home, check the back of your mother, grandmother, or fabulous gay uncle’s closet. You never know what gems you may find.

Pictures by Justin Livingston

 






Haven’t washed your hair since last Thursday? Cool. Me either.

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A very happy Monday to you, my main bitches.  Did y’all survive the weekend?  I barely did.  I spent mine in the good ol’ District of Columbia celebrating my brother’s 21st birthday, (don’t worry, pictures to come) and I am still recovering.  Like, it was we drunk dialed my dad bad.  I had to eat a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel for breakfast just to feel like myself again.  That and a large iced coffee and I’m almost back in business.  It will take a sushi lunch special, and then I’ll (fingers crossed) finally be okay.

In case you were wondering, I have not washed my hair since before I took the Bolt Bus.  When you are rocking a hangover 4 pitchers of margs deep, water pressure on your head feels like thousands of little hammers.  Now, remember back, all those weeks ago, when I did this to my hair?  And I was like, “it’s the perfect style for when you want to do absolutely nothing, including washing and brush it?  I wasn’t kidding.  Check the below steps to rock this look.   As you can tell, Molly was my (un)willing muse.

1. To style this look, wear cargo pants from 1996 and a shirt that was balled up in the corner of your closet for three weeks.  No make up is key.  (Perhaps this is also the time to alert the blogosphere that about a month ago I chopped all my hair off and died it red a la TTH.  This picture does it absolutely no justice because I ran out of dry shampoo that weekend.)  Oh, also, be sure to stand in a way that makes your hips look 4X bigger than they actually are.   (Thanks Jordan for the shots.  I know that I give you absolutely nothing to work with.)

 

2. Brush hair into side pony.  If you insist on doing this step with a real brush and not your fingers (my preferred method) be sure to use a brush that looks like the American flag.

 

3. Once your hair is in a side pony, braid it.  I am showing off and fishtailing, because I didn’t want Molly’s layers to stick out awkwardly.  However, you can just regular braid or twist.  Or you can just leave your hair in a side pony because Molly Ringwald was the shit. 

 

4. Pin that shit up. 

 

5. Done and done.  

 

Peace snitches.  I gotta go get an IV of Diet Coke.  Mondays are hard.