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Coffee & Cocktails

Blogging whenever I'm not on a movie set or pretending to be a semi-functional adult in the business world. I drink martinis & lots of strong espresso.

Fashion Inspiration // Quotes

Eva Mendes gave birth to Ryan Gosling’s baby last Friday, September 12, 2014. Basically, the most attractive girl of her generation was born.

I’m still in the process of accepting that Ryan Gosling will never be my real-life husband, so I’ve settled for him being my internet husband. But now that he’s a father I wonder what it’s like to be Ryan Gosling’s daughter. I imagine it to be a blessing and a curse because let’s be honest, you will never find a guy who is better than Ryan Gosling.

I imagine him to be a loving, hands-on, father:

At first he will be confused, because he’s a guy after all:

But then, there’s no stopping Daddy Gosling:

There will be a lot of this:

He’s going to be a cool dad and will have you ditch school and take you to Disneyland:

Eva will probably get mad:

He’s going to help you with your math homework because that’s the kind of dad he is:

He will sing to you till you fall asleep and his lullabies will start with "Hey, girl" :

You will be the most popular girl in school, and every girl will want to have sleepovers at your house just to stare at your hot dad and he will be embarrassing like all fathers are:

You will get mad:

But there’s nothing he cannot solve with a hug and a smile:

You’re daddy’s little girl and he will spoil you like no other. You can ask him for anything and everything:

But he also knows the importance of values: 

He’s not going to be a fan of you dating:

And will always think you can do better (duh!):

When you’re confused about life, he’ll give you a good pep talk:

And this will probably be him at prom:

And then you’ll graduate and he’s going to cry:

Sending you off to college will be tough:

But you guys are connected forever and ever:

Yeah, best father of future years to come…

Tom Ford is my Dad.

Sixties glam-rock, hints of Hedi Slimane’s Saint Laurent, and basically everything you’d want if you have the legs to pull it off. Also present “pasties” - seems like Miley Cyrus does have an effect in the fashion world, and well the only positive thing is, the no bra trend. As a girl who wants to burn her bra each night, I’m all for it.

As a girl who would rather have diamonds around her neck, than flowers in her hair, this collections is the exception to everything I believe.

If I die, bury me in Marchesa. That’s all.

I mean, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley is a natural beauty, but this just goes off to show sunglasses can make all the difference in the world.

Once upon a time being called a bitch was a total insult. Then it’s variation "betch" was created and everyone became a self-identifying betch. No conversation between white girls goes on without making reference of the word to one another. It’s a term of endearment. 

BITCH: NOUN. \biCH\ - a girl who tries to be cool by being mean.

BETCH: NOUN. \BECH\ - a girl who’s living life like an episode of The Hills.

But now, how to distinguish between all these bitches and betches? 

We have the basic bitches vs bad bitches. 

☮ Who is original and who is not? ☮ Who is trying too hard to please and fit in and who is not?☮ Who is playing the game and who is writing the rules?

Physically, you can tell the basic bitches apart by spotting the girls who travel in packs of three, they feel really strongly about holding Starbucks at all times (specifically pumpkin spiced lattes), and most of them didn’t get the memo that acrylics are so last decade.

On whose squad do you belong to? Be honest, I mean, 98% of the population is basic, so chances are you pretty much are too.

Once upon a time being called a bitch was a total insult. Then it’s variation "betch" was created and everyone became a self-identifying betch. No conversation between white girls goes on without making reference of the word to one another. It’s a term of endearment.

BITCH: NOUN. \biCH\ - a girl who tries to be cool by being mean.

BETCH: NOUN. \BECH\ - a girl who’s living life like an episode of The Hills.

But now, how to distinguish between all these bitches and betches?

We have the basic bitches vs bad bitches.

☮ Who is original and who is not?
☮ Who is trying too hard to please and fit in and who is not?
☮ Who is playing the game and who is writing the rules?

Physically, you can tell the basic bitches apart by spotting the girls who travel in packs of three, they feel really strongly about holding Starbucks at all times (specifically pumpkin spiced lattes), and most of them didn’t get the memo that acrylics are so last decade.

On whose squad do you belong to? Be honest, I mean, 98% of the population is basic, so chances are you pretty much are too.

I woke up in a perfect downtown apartment. Walked down the street to get coffee. Uber-ed myself to the Mara Hoffman sample sale. I’m wearing a hat. Met a cute guy at an art gallery. I’m basically Sex and the City. Everything was going great until all the sudden my dog was on my face demanding for me to take him out. Another night, another dream, another abrupt awakening to reality. My hair, my room, my thoughts equally as messy – and my love life, what a joke.

One of the things that annoys me the most about being single is having to deal with the typical question, “so what’s your type?” It’s quite idiotic. You don’t go out with a mental checklist or a picture of what the guy you’re looking for should look like as if you were looking for someone in a lost ad. Relationships just happen spontaneously. If you don’t agree, then that’s maybe why you’re single to begin with. It’s true that we tend to gravitate towards a certain “type” of guys. For me, I’m physically attracted to the skinny, musician, skateboarder, artsy guy smoking a cigarette outside a bar, who can give the impression he is big into drugs (but it’s just the look, I swear!) but mentally it seems like I’m attracted to assholes.

As I’m seeing my friends somewhat “settling” down and having stable relationships with guys in their 30s, it freaks me out. Like, my imaginary besties Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. Does it mean that guys in their 20s will always be trouble and never really go the next step? Is a man with olive skin tone, full salt n’ pepper hair, wearing a pea coat and scarf the answer to emotional stability?

I like to be surrounded by people who make me smile, who are adventurous and like to discover new things holding my hand. I like people with the energy as the sun and the vibe of a hippie. I like to be surprised. But it turns out it’s actually really hard to meet someone like this. Harder than assembling IKEA furniture by yourself.

As a girl, I know I want constant validation, which sucks! I’m needy but not clingy – there’s a difference. I want you to be there, but I won’t be begging you to be there. I think I haven’t really experienced a painful breakup. I’ve always been a fan of the philosophy that sometimes good things fall apart, so that better things can fall together. I like getting closure. I prefer someone saying that they don’t want me to be their girl anymore rather than leaving me lingering, wondering if the last “I’ll call you”, was really “this is the end”. In no way am I saying that I’m a self-masochist who likes to hear she’s no longer loved or that whole speech of “it’s not you darling, it’s me” – I mean, when my last boyfriend broke-up with me I gave him a laxative tea… I just find it easy to drop people from my life who don’t want to be there. It’s not brain surgery. You can’t demand someone to love you. If that were the case, Ryan Gosling would be by my side right now. I mean, seriously. I’m the girl that if I was in a cabin in Colorado in December and all I had were your letters, I would set them on fire because probably I’m very cold.

Sooner or later the loneliness of singlehood catches up to you and you end up hooking up with the guy you never in a million years thought you would ever hook up with. Last week I was at a bar and a 6’2 guy came up to me. He was big as in “football player big”, but not as in “I work out big”, but not fat, just big, ya know? Since he didn’t assume I wanted vodka and cranberry I decided to acknowledge him. I mean, the only time vodka and cran is ever acceptable anymore is when handed to you. At a table. At a club. Anyways, we discussed books and politics, and when he leaned in for a kiss, I dodged it like no other. I felt super bad. I liked the vulnerability of the moment, but then I was like okay you need to get a hold of yourself, you don’t even like this guy you’re just lonely, go home, alone. So I did. I don’t think I’m skipping out on “the one”. I mean really, at 2am, at a bar? I don’t think so. I don’t know what I’m looking for but it’s definitely not a one night stand.

That’s how I feel about relationships. They’re totally irrational, crazy, and absurd. But I guess we, uh, just keep going through it because most of us… need the eggs.

- Annie Hall

“Love is wild. Love is free.” Well, love also happens to be missing. If you find it looking for me, give him my number.

Kind of over it.

As I like to publicly embarrass myself on social media, I’m not ashamed to share that I spent $2.99 on a book called, “Harry Styles Ultimate: 201 Facts”. 

Very important stuff. I’ve confirmed that we’re soulmates.

As I like to publicly embarrass myself on social media, I’m not ashamed to share that I spent $2.99 on a book called, “Harry Styles Ultimate: 201 Facts”.

Very important stuff. I’ve confirmed that we’re soulmates.

Melissa’s funny eulogy.

The Hollywood Reporter published the letter Melissa read at Joan River’s funeral. It’s an excerpt from A Letter To My Mom, a book that will be published in April.   

Mom:

I received the note that you slipped under my bedroom door last night. I was very excited to read it, thinking that it would contain amazing, loving advice that you wanted to share with me. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and saw that it began with the salutation, “Dear Landlord.” I have reviewed your complaints and address them below:

1. While I appreciate your desire to “upgrade” your accommodations to a larger space, I cannot, in good conscience, move [my 13-year-old son] Cooper into the laundry room. I do agree that it will teach him a life lesson about fluffing and folding, but since I don’t foresee him having a future in dry cleaning, I must say no.

Also, I know you are a true creative genius (and I am in awe of the depth of your instincts), but breaking down a wall without my permission is not an appropriate way to express that creativity. It is not only a boundary violation but a building-code violation as well. Additionally, the repairman can’t get here until next week, so your expansion plan will have to be put on hold.

2. Re: Your fellow “tenant” (your word), Cooper. While I trust you with him, it is not OK for you to undermine my rules. It is not OK that you let him have chips and ice cream for dinner. It is not OK that you let him skip school to go to the movies. And it is really not OK that the movie was Last Tango in Paris.

As for your taking his friends to a “gentlemen’s club,” I accepted your rationale that it was an educational experience for the boys — and you are right, he is the most popular kid in school right now — but I’d prefer he not learn biology from those “gentlemen” and their ladies, Bambi, Trixie and Kitten. And just because I yelled at you, I do not appreciate your claim that I have created a hostile living environment.

3. While I’m glad to see you’re socializing, you must refill the hot tub after your parties. In fact, you need to tone down the parties altogether. Imagine my surprise when I saw the photos you posted on Facebook of your friends frolicking topless in the hot tub.

I think it’s great that you’re entertaining more often, but I can’t keep fielding complaints from the neighbors about your noisy party games like Ring Around the Walker or naked Duck, Duck Caregiver.

I’m more than happy to have you use the house for social gatherings, but you cannot rent it out, advertise as “party central” or hand out T-shirts that say “F— Jimmy Buffett.”

In closing, I hope I have satisfactorily answered your complaints and queries. I love having you live with me, and I am grateful for every minute Cooper and I have with you. You are an inspiration. You are also 30 days late with the rent.

Much love,

Melissa

RIP Joan

Melissa’s funny eulogy.

The Hollywood Reporter published the letter Melissa read at Joan River’s funeral. It’s an excerpt from A Letter To My Mom, a book that will be published in April.

Mom:

I received the note that you slipped under my bedroom door last night. I was very excited to read it, thinking that it would contain amazing, loving advice that you wanted to share with me. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and saw that it began with the salutation, “Dear Landlord.” I have reviewed your complaints and address them below:

1. While I appreciate your desire to “upgrade” your accommodations to a larger space, I cannot, in good conscience, move [my 13-year-old son] Cooper into the laundry room. I do agree that it will teach him a life lesson about fluffing and folding, but since I don’t foresee him having a future in dry cleaning, I must say no.

Also, I know you are a true creative genius (and I am in awe of the depth of your instincts), but breaking down a wall without my permission is not an appropriate way to express that creativity. It is not only a boundary violation but a building-code violation as well. Additionally, the repairman can’t get here until next week, so your expansion plan will have to be put on hold.

2. Re: Your fellow “tenant” (your word), Cooper. While I trust you with him, it is not OK for you to undermine my rules. It is not OK that you let him have chips and ice cream for dinner. It is not OK that you let him skip school to go to the movies. And it is really not OK that the movie was Last Tango in Paris.

As for your taking his friends to a “gentlemen’s club,” I accepted your rationale that it was an educational experience for the boys — and you are right, he is the most popular kid in school right now — but I’d prefer he not learn biology from those “gentlemen” and their ladies, Bambi, Trixie and Kitten. And just because I yelled at you, I do not appreciate your claim that I have created a hostile living environment.

3. While I’m glad to see you’re socializing, you must refill the hot tub after your parties. In fact, you need to tone down the parties altogether. Imagine my surprise when I saw the photos you posted on Facebook of your friends frolicking topless in the hot tub.

I think it’s great that you’re entertaining more often, but I can’t keep fielding complaints from the neighbors about your noisy party games like Ring Around the Walker or naked Duck, Duck Caregiver.

I’m more than happy to have you use the house for social gatherings, but you cannot rent it out, advertise as “party central” or hand out T-shirts that say “F— Jimmy Buffett.”

In closing, I hope I have satisfactorily answered your complaints and queries. I love having you live with me, and I am grateful for every minute Cooper and I have with you. You are an inspiration. You are also 30 days late with the rent.

Much love,

Melissa

RIP Joan

Opening Ceremony S/S 2015

I haven’t been able to catch up with NYFW which is so weird, but Opening Ceremony caught my attention last night when I heard they were doing a 30 minute one-act play to present their collection. Edgy, different and fun.

Humberto Leon and Carol Lim (who are also the creative directors at Kenzo) enlisted Spike Jonze and Jonah Hill to write "100% Lost Cotton". The play starred Elle Fanning, Catherine Keener, John Cameron Mitchell, Dree Hemingway, Bobby Cannavale, Alia Shawkat and Karlie Kloss.

I got a hold of the script and I mean it’s no Tennessee Williams but it does its job as a satire of what the fashion industry is. If you’ve ever stepped foot on a movie set, at a fashion show, or simply stood outside the tents in NYC during fashion week, you know everything about this industry is a complete cliché. I merge both the fashion industry and entertainment industry as one because without fashion there’s no entertainment industry, and vice versa. I mean, can you imagine Broadway without feathers, glitter, and sparkly outfits?

To an outsider being a model or actress can seem like a ridiculous job involving all kinds of glitz and glamour, but it can be everything far from it. It would be fair to say that everyone who works in this industry has to be a little crazy.

As a newbie you’re setting yourself up for the biggest disappointments of your life. You pretty much go from casting to casting being rejected, criticized, being compared to the girl standing next to you, and losing all self-worth. The rejection never really stops. Once one door opens, you still have to open the next one where there’s already more competition than there was before. That’s why thick skin is so important.

It’s a mad industry. It functions thanks to raging publicist who you would think need anger management, panicking creative people demanding their space, and the wannabes who are there for the wrong reasons. It’s a vicious circle that we’ll never get tired of.

Bella: You want to know what modeling is? Most days you don’t even model. You spend hours in the morning worry about what you’re going to wear, or say, or do. And then you get on the subway anxious about what people are going to think about you. And then you have people in a fitting or a casting or a meeting look you up and down for 30 seconds without even looking at you in the eye. And then you get back on the subway, and you try desperately not to see your reflection in the window because they made you feel like the ugliest girl in the room. And then you spend the whole rest of the afternoon trying to wash off your make-up and everything else they threw at you that day. All for 30 seconds of shit.

Julie: I’m really sorry. It sounds like you really don’t like what you do. So why do you do this?

Bella: That’s a good fucking question. I don’t know. I mean I lived in Seattle with my mom and whatever other sketchy boyfriend she had living with us that week. But my thing that nobody else was a part of was fashion. I just loved that it was this cool, glamorous, creative thing. Fashion was always about invention or reinvention. I mean people say, don’t judge a book by its cover. But when you meet somebody for the first time you first see what they’re wearing. You totally judge a book by its cover. I just love that you can create yourself. I mean every morning you get to choose what type of person you want to be or how you want to be perceived. I mean, I remember when I was 17, it just happened.

Julie: What happened?

Bella: I was at a Subway, and this guy came up to me he was like, have you ever thought about modeling? And I was like YES! Where have you been! I’ve been waiting for you! And then he signed me and he brought me to New York, and I met these designers, and I started to book jobs and I was like “I’m a model.” And I’m going to all the parties I used to look at on my computer and I’m on the Tumblrs I used to look at – and it’s so great. But I still feel like shit. It’s like a whole new set of things that make me feel shitty.

Julie: So what are you going to do?

Bella: I don’t know.

Julie: Well one of the things that my dad always does – is that he tries to break down into different options. And it sounds like you have three options: one, you quit and you just go do something else. Two, you change the way everyone in the whole fashion world thinks and behaves and acts. Or three, you stay and you just try to enjoy the moments that you love. Just enjoy the good moments. I mean, you’re only 20 and you’ve pretty much gotten to do everything you ever wanted to, right? So maybe try to just ignore all the bad parts.

Bella: Jesus. How old are you again?

Julie: 18. But I’m very sophisticated.

Yes, everyone working in this industry is a total psycho because it seems like we thrive on the fear of being rejected to the point where you don’t know if it’s worth it or not, but you keep trying because it’s what makes you happy - when you actually book the job. If you’re thinking about being a model or actress, this is literally it.

But this was a fashion presentation of their Spring/Summer 2015 collection after all so… the color palette included black, whites, pale greens and pinks. Sports-based silhouettes, allover-print rompers, and a range of bold graphics. Humberto described it as “pre-Internet, post-nostalgia, post-punk, pre-grunge, and totally pre-twitter.” Honestly, I was totally more interested in the play than in the fashion.

In a world of “I can’t even’s” I can’t even deal with the news that Joan Rivers is dead. Even writing it seems like a hoax. I’ve never been more in shock about someone’s passing. Like, I just saw her doing the Emmy’s Fashion Police wrap up, calling A-listers out for their horrid sartorial choices and now a week later she’s gone. What is happening right now?

I can’t even begin to imagine what a red carpet will be without her. Who is going to tell it like it is? Who is going to tell Lea Michelle she looks like a porn star, trash Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, even Angelina Jolie and call Betty White a bitch?

She invented the red carpet. She made it be what it is today. She gave designers the platform to promote their business and become known to the public thanks to her question, “Who are you wearing?” As we celebrate New York Fashion Week, many of these designers gained notoriety thanks to red carpets - thanks to Joan.

She was every adjective you could think of. She didn’t just paved the way for raunchy comediennes, she paved the way for all those women who wanted a job that was in a field dominated by the male sex. She liberated us to surpass our limitations and proved that if you worked hard and believed in yourself you could be considered a males equal in the workforce. She became and still is the first and only female TV host for a late night show - not counting cable, because who cares about cable. Johnny Carson was clearly intimidated and broke her heart but she got up and had the last laugh.

She was not only funny on TV, she was also funny in writing. Just last week I was reading “Diary of a Mad Diva” at the airport. You can’t help but laugh out loud cover to cover. Everything and everyone is on the table when doing comedy and she never apologized for any of it. She knows how to say the truth in the most outrageous way which makes you laugh and agree with her because it’s the truth after all. She just never stopped being funny and clever.

Keeping up with today’s times, she turned herself into a YouTube personality. I was a fan of her show “In Bed With Joan” from the beginning. I’d watch it when getting ready in the AM just to get the day started on a good note. She never stop working, and like she said, her job was her hobby.

I watched “A Piece of Work” when it came out back in 2010 and it’s probably the one documentary about a person in the entertainment industry that has really struck a core with me. I found it to be an amazing look into her life and it redefined how I saw her as a person as well as a comedienne. I seriously remember specific scenes that were so important to me at that point for some reason. I will always remember the opening scene of her without any makeup on. She simply put herself out there and said I’m here and I just want to be liked. She’s a comedy icon. She had the energy, stamina and aggression that a great stand-up needs and no matter where she was performing, she would knock it right out of the park.

I loved watching her reality show “Joan and Melissa”. When you turn your TV on to watch a TV show about someone’s life, you’re essentially welcoming those people into your living room and you sort of form a bond and you feel like you know them. Perhaps that’s why even though I never met her, her death feels so close.

At 81, which is irrelevant to mention because age clearly does not define a person, she was still as vital and as relevant as the youngest gal in the business. With time she got funnier, wittier, and never afraid to speak her mind. She simply said out loud what everyone else was thinking. If people didn’t get her joke or got offended, their loss.

What do I take from Joan Rivers?

1. Her fashion advice. Forget the furs, the Birkins, the Chanel - black kneepads go with everything.

2. Don’t be afraid of redecorating your face. “Show me a person who hasn’t done anything and I’ll show you someone who is hideous”.

3. Self deprecation is actually the key for happiness. Never be afraid to laugh at yourself, after all, you could be missing out on the joke of the century.

There will never be another one like her. Nothing will ever be the same.

You were one of a kind. I thought you would be eternal. Love you Joan, thanks for all the laughs. I will miss you terribly.