Blogging whenever I'm not busy working on a movie set or pretending to be a semi-functional adult in the business world. I drink martinis & lots of strong espresso. Writing about fashion, luxury, lifestyle, and since I'm probably going through a quarter-life crisis at 22 expect my constant ranting.
"Black isn’t a color, it’s a way of life" - Anna Dello Russo
The Armani Privé Haute Couture Fall 2014 show was all about black, white, and red. Monochrome is a trend that’s been pushing through since AW14 but a splash, or in some cases, a pouring of scarlet added a dynamic dimension to the collection.
On the runway we saw a flow of classic cut suits, accentuated shoulders, tulip skirts and tailored shorts, with sharp ladylike touches such as red stilettos, leather gloves, veils and frills, with a nod to the 1960s via swing coats and classic capes adding the right amount of feminine elegance.
Sitting front row, Kate Hudson stole the show in a plunging lilac jumpsuit. She looked ridiculously amazing.
Life has a funny way of sending messages about what you should do with your life. For Alice it was a white rabbit who took her to wonderland. For me, most of my lifestyle choices have come from fashion.
Saint Laurent Fall 2013 took me to the grunge scene, smoking a cigarette, all in black, waiting for Courtney Love to step in at any time to tell me to get my shit together. Chanel usually takes me to the closest art gallery and leaves me wanting to burn all my sweatpants. This time Giambattista Valli is telling me to drop everything I’m doing, channel my favorite Old Hollywood movie icon, move to Beverly Hills, become a movie star, marry someone for money never for love, and drink champagne at Joan Collins’s home.
Giambattista Valli Haute Couture Fall 2014 channels an era of elegant, vintage glamour…and I want it all.
Congrats to Mr. & Mrs. Huebl. Olivia Palermo married German boyfriend Johannes Huebl.
Olivia Palermo has the kind of wardrobe that would make Blair Waldorf a little envious which is exactly why it’s unfair for her to have the perfect boyfriend too. They make such a beautiful couple which makes us love her and hate her at the same time. After six years of dating, Johannes proposed to her in St. Bart’s. They got married in a private ceremony in a quiet park tucked away in Bedford, New York.
The bride wore a cream cashmere sweater with scattered ostrich feathers paired with white shorts with a full tulle skirt overlay that cinched at the waist in layers of satin and silk and featured a high slit in the front with floral details along the hem. All three pieces by Carolina Herrera. For her “something blue” she wore blue Manolo Blahniks. Beautiful and unique.
Once again the World Cup has me glued to the TV. I don’t know what it is about it but you can find me with a cold beer in hand watching the games, the after-shows, and tuning in to Sports Center on ESPN. I know all the stats, the main players (more like, the hot players), and surely I have made bets on who’s going to win. My knowledge extends to the point that I can hold a conversation with a total stranger about the subject and not sound dumb. I’m basically every guys dream.
As I watched Mexico play it’s third match against Croatia I confirmed my love for that country. Sure the Croatian coach was super dreamy but I mean, El Piojo Herrera has my heart:
He’s basically breaking Google. And to think that he’s the worst paid coach in the World Cup, he deserves a raise - and a nutritionist.
There are no soccer fans like Mexican fans. Whether they started saving since the last World Cup ended or if they put everything they had including their dog as collateral, they somehow managed to gather at least $35,000 dollars to be there, and they sure know how to enjoy themselves and make it be worth it.
What I love is seeing the fans dressed up in all these different costumes. Here is Frida Kahlo:
Here is your typical mariachi riding his pony:
Here is your Aztec/Mayan/Whatever:
Here is your more average fan who doesn’t mind showing off his figure with the tight Mexican shirt:
Their chanting is so loud that even the FIFA had to open an investigation. The word in question: PUTO. This is the word you would beg your Spanish teacher in middle school to teach you. It’s direct meaning means “gay” but it’s not used in that context whatsoever - it’s not making an attack on anyone’s sexual preference as the FIFA wants to make it seem like. I guess you just use it as much as you use “fuck” in America. The FIFA finally had to shut up and give fans a break. Instead of making people stop using it, now it’s even more popular than before: eeeeeeeeeeh putooo
It’s popular at bars/clubs for no apparent reason:
It just makes people happy:
Even Jelavic from Croatia said it to Mexico’s captain Marquez (btw, how cute is Marquez?):
Back at home games are streamed at the office, cantinas are full of fans drinking at 11am because why not, and afterwards they take the streets like maniacs:
Forget Rich Kids of Beverly Hills, Rich Kids of Mexico City have nothing on them - and took the street to prove it. A bunch of rich kids closed down a turning circle with police authorization to drink on the streets, blast music, and just celebrate. Of course, their bodyguards were there too making sure no one with ill intentions would approach them. Invite me to your street party next time.
Apparently, even Mexico’s Uber is festive:
The truth is their goalkeeper is bananas - if Mexico is where it is today, its mostly thanks to him. Also the internet noted that Memo Ochoa is basically Ted Mosby from HIMYM:
But really, have you seen the way his hair moves? If his agent hasn’t booked him a shampoo deal yet, he should get fired.
Tip: straighten your hair next time just to throw off the other team ;)
And well, when it comes to fashion…they’re wearing Ermenegildo Zegna.
Finally, time has run it’s course and Juicy Couture is dunzo. By the end of June 2014, Juicy Couture will be closing all of its U.S. stores. However, the brand will live on at Kohl’s, where it truly belongs.
The oh-so-beloved velour tracksuit that once upon a time owning it and wearing it to school gave us “cool kid status” and made us feel like Paris Hilton, stopped being cool as soon as we graduated 8th grade. Although we didn’t exactly get rid of it on the bag donated to goodwill, it was only acceptable to be worn when we were feeling bad for ourselves on a lonely Friday night while eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and watching reruns of The Simple Life.
For some reason, at some point having “Juicy” across our butts wasn’t deemed as trashy and every teen in America wanted to have those Gothic script letters across their butts. You could walk into any mall and friends in pairs of threes would be walking up and down with their velour tracksuit and velour handbag to match. In a desperate attempt wannabes would be spotted wearing knock offs. It was velour galore and you were practically a nobody if you didn’t own any.
The Juicy charm bracelet was another classic. The limit to how many charms you could have was pretty much nonexistent. Our scent was Viva La Juicy. It was pretty decent and finally gave us an upgrade from the Bath & Body Works sprays we were obsessed with.
For a brand that started with $200 as investment and grew to be a global sensation it’s pretty impressive how far it came and especially how long it lasted. The owners Pamela Skaist-Levy and Gela Nash-Taylor can mostly thank Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, and Britney Spears for making their clothes be the to-go outfit for all the betches of the early 2000’s. It goes off to show how much influence celebrities and pop culture really have on us.
Juicy’s reign is now over and humankind will get just a touch less trashy - now just waiting for Betsey Johnson to close next…
Is the resting bitch face syndrome just a problem for introverts?
My friend has been trying to convince me that I’m a peephole person, that I need breaks from people and that I cancel way too many plans. I think it’s maybe that I truly just hate 99% of the population and that eye rolling is my thing - but besides that I’m actually really friendly. But analyzing every introvert that I know, I think we all have the resting bitch face syndrome. The facial expression we give off is semi-murderous. It says we are annoyed, angry, frustrated, irritated, and pissed. If you think about it, it’s basically, the Kanye face.
One of the perks of having resting bitch face syndrome is that no one ever talks to you. People find us intimidating, which can work both ways - you can be left alone and find satisfaction in your solitude but other times it doesn’t work in your favor when people you actually like feel that you hate them and don’t talk to you for that reason. You can never win with this face.
But others believe this chronic syndrome can actually make you attractive. Like Karl Lagerfeld finding in Kristen Stewart a muse. Who would of thought.
I think all of my friends have this syndrome and maybe that’s why we all get along so well. But having a bitch face doesn’t mean we’re boring cat ladies. A typical Friday night between my friends and I starts by picking somebody’s house where to get ready while getting a little ginned too. We turn up the music, throw on our best heels and dance really badly and drop it in the mirror like no ones watching. Yet somehow once we make it to the club our faces change into something that says “look at me, I’m fabulous and I’m bored”. We tend to mostly judge from the side while sipping on our cocktail and look miserable. I guess it’s just our defense mechanism against fake girls and creepy guys because we can’t tolerate unneeded and unwanted interaction so our face keeps them at bay.
People call it bitch face, but I mean, imagine if we would be smiling all the time…that’s typical for a stage 5 clinger.
The girls who have RBF are actually really nice - the ones that look at you like they’re superior creatures do not have RBF, they are just bitches in general.
Tomato, tomato. You call it bitch face, I simply call it avoiding wrinkles.