Buy Yourself Something Shiny – Rainy Week Edition

Screen Shot 2015-10-02 at 1.41.32 PMIf you live on the East Coast, it is probably raining … and cold. And it has probably been raining for sometime now. And if you are anything like me, you just want to order Chinese food, crawl under your covers, live in pajamas, and watch Netflix until it’s time for you to crawl downstairs and pour yourself a glass of wine. 

For a lot of us (myself included) … that just isn’t in the cards (God damn “adult” things :::shakes fist:::). But what can we do to make up for this. What can we do to heal our chilled bones, our heinous hair days, and our drenched selves? 


Yep. You guessed it. Prepare yourselves for another edition of “Buy yourselves something shiny.” Why? Because I said so. It’s Friday, the weather blows, we are all exhausted, blah blah blah … DO IT. 

So I’ll shut the hell up now while you whip out your credit cards and get your online shop on. 

Happy Friday, freaks. 


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OPI Big Apple Red Nail Polish

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Beautiful bracelet

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Boyfriend button down

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Skull decor … because


Statement necklace to end all statement necklaces

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Rebecca Minkoff iPhone 6 Case 

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Be Kind To Pope People

sister-act:::Your regular snarky fashion and lifestyle commentary will be briefly interrupted for the following message:::

Today I experienced my first moment of “Popemaggedon”. My train was not only late, but canceled, and the train that followed it was significantly late and so crowded that I had to sit next to a smelly man who was showing no signs of life, and happened to be taking up 84.7% of the seat. Ahhh Septa. 

By the time I arrived at Market East (it will always and forever be Market East to me … so suck it), I was full of rage … mostly due to my smelly unconscious neighbor who was making me incredibly nauseous. And it didn’t help that I was confronted with a platform full of out-of-towners who didn’t know if the sky was up or down, clogging up every inch of walking space, and not moving … all smiling and carrying on, when I had six minutes to catch my next train to get the eff HOME

My eyes were rolling, my scowl was in place, but my manners did not take a backseat (hello … I’m a lady), as I angrily pushed through the crowd of see-through backpacks whilst saying, “excuse me,” in the most nicely annoyed fashion. No one seemed to care, though. All the see-through backpack owners looked like they were so pleasantly consumed with why they were visiting to even try to care about my miserable ass. 

It wasn’t until I walked up the steps to a sea of priests and nuns that reality REALLY bitch slapped me across the face. It was startling and yet so pleasant. Immediately I slowed my roll and started to feel calm, incredibly silly for being so frustrated, and oddly enough like I was in the presence of true rock stars. 

I know I’m not the only one who has been viewing this event like a “Made in America” nightmare on steroids that is a total inconvenience to every aspect of our lives, but it’s oh so different. Teenagers won’t be in “festival gear” getting drunk off $16 Bud Light cans (I mean, I hope not … come on, people). Those idiots are being replaced with old school nuns (rowdy and rude festival morons < nuns). This is a huge deal, and sometimes you just need to bask in the chaos a little because it (sometimes) is kind of incredible.

So if you are like me and want to punt your commute and hide under your bed than deal with these shenanigans, take a deep breath, prepare for the worst, and be kind. For the love of Godbe kind. No matter what is happening, if you are stuck in a sea of clear backpacks that won’t move, slow down and be cordial. Shoot these people a smile. Direct them to a good bar. Show them where the rad shops are. Give solid directions (except no one ask me, I have a foul sense of direction), and welcome them. Here is a solid opportunity for the world to not see us as a bunch of fat assholes.

I realize almost all of the people attending the World Meeting of Families, especially Pope Frank, reads Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra religiously (I couldn’t resist), so welcome and enjoy our lovely city. And if you want a divine cheesesteak, visit Sonny’s on 2nd and Market.

To my real reader(s) of the Philly area, it will be over soon. I promise. Just smile and nod. Smile and nod.

:::Now back to our regularly scheduled program of snarky fashion and lifestyle commentary:::

Stop Asking Stupid Questions

lemon-nerd-rageThis week there has been a lot of talk about famous women (Tyra Banks) dealing with infertility issues. While I cannot relate, I found it mind boggling that people … strangers in fact … were commenting on her social media channels asking her, “Tyra, when are you going to have kids!” “Tyra, why don’t you have kids?!” Uhh really? Yes, because the first thing I think to do when I wake up is harass my favorite celebrity about why they haven’t procreated (What. Is. Wrong. With. People).

Besides the famous folks, I’ve witnessed so many people I’m close to get asked obnoxious questions. Questions that may have been appropriate to ask in 1955, but are no longer on the table. Myself in fact, have been victim to the heinous questions of …

“Why aren’t you married?”

“Why don’t you own a home?”

“Wait … you don’t have a boyfriend … why?!” 

I usually turn bright red in those situations, uncomfortably giggle, and say something awkward like, “UHHHH …” and shrug my shoulders whilst trying to change the topic as fast as possible. But what I REALLY wanted to say to these people is …

“Well, I don’t own a home because I witnessed the economic collapse of the housing market first hand, and quite frankly want nothing to do with it. Also, I don’t have the money. I’m not married because I don’t settle for stupidity. And I don’t have a boyfriend because well … I don’t. It’s not that I don’t want one. I’m just too busy with my career to give any idiot a chance to waste my time :::Drops mic:::” 

Guys, no longer is it okay to ask people who JUST got married or have been married for more than a second …

“Sooo when are you guys having kids?”

“You’ve been married for 2.5 seconds, why don’t you have kids!?”

“Sooo … you guys TRYING?!” 

You have NO idea what people are going through. Those people could be dealing with infertility issues, or maybe cannot conceive (and ps. think of it this way … you are basically asking your friends if and how often they are boning … it’s weird. “Trying” means boning. Remember that.). Or maybe … GASP … they don’t want any damn children. Instead, perhaps, they are enjoying their time together alone, or I don’t know, saving up money so they don’t end up living in a very crowded van down by the river. 

You just never know. And in these situations, when it comes to forcefully stepping your foot inside the private lives of your loved ones or strangers (for you extra annoying humans) … I say don’t. AND the only caveat to this rule is if you are over 75. You truly cannot control those broads … nor should you. 

I’m sure most of these questions aren’t asked out of malice, and are just asked out of, well, the sake of pure conversation. But there are far more interesting things to fill a conversation with. News. Pop culture. Climate change. Unicorns. Kardashians. Cats. I mean … you get the point … I hope. 

So I’m filing all of those foul questions outlined above under “word vomit”. Because if you are going to ask someone why they haven’t fertilized their eggs yet or basically, why no one loves them, you mine as well go the distance and ask how much they make a year, and if they got a raise, and how much that was. And, why the hell not, ask how many people they have slept with.

In the meantime … leave our personal shit where it belongs. In the privacy of our own chaotic brains.

But don’t worry … I’ll be sure to alert all of you when I settle down, get knocked up, and buy a perfect pink hour with 2.5 baths. But because you didn’t ask this one question, I’m KILLING it in my career.