The Go-To Emergency Outfit

audrey-as-holly-in-sleep-mask_rect540I have a serious snoozing problem. In fact I set my alarm for 45 minutes earlier than I need to get up so I can casually and comfortably snooze myself out of a sound nights rest … for 45 minutes. I know … I have issues.

It’s a dangerous game to play. You really have to stay somewhat lucid so you don’t fall back into a deep sleep. But there are signs to look for to know you are doomed for lateness. Like when you look at your phone and instead of it saying “click to snooze” it says “click to snuggle.” (Yes, this has actually happened to me).

Or there are the times when you turn off your alarm instead of hitting snooze … like I did this week. And before you know it, you’re back in that amazing dream, thinking to yourself, “I still have 10 more minutes, I still have 10 more minutes.” But in reality, you’re fucked.

It’s the worst feeling when you open your eyes, look at your phone and see that you should have been out of bed 15 minutes ago. The. Worst. Especially when you have somewhere to be. The first thing I think of is what can I do to make getting ready 15 minutes faster? It usually involves skipping a shower (which, don’t look disgusted, I usually shower the night before so there). Or nixing that interesting hair style I’ve been dying to try.

But I realized something incredibly important. Sure, we may all plan our outfits out for the next day whether we physically do it or put it together in our brains. I know I do. But sometimes those outfits involve a lot of effort whether it be lots of jewelry, lots of layering, or lots of ironing, lint control, etc. In other words, not conducive for someone who is running insanely late.

So in those moments when you wake up, heart racing, cursing the Gods for not allowing us to levitate or teleport, you need a go-to emergency outfit. Luckily for me, I had one. I like to think I keep it in glass, and when the moment arises when I sleep too long, I can karate chop through the figurative glass where I keep said emergency outfit, setting off figurative sirens, throw it on and be out the door.

This go-to emergency outfit is plain old simple, yet stylish, of course. Mine involves a pair of stretch pants (that usually are lint magnets, but in times like these, you just have to make sacrifices. People who get up late also get a hot mess card to use). The stretch pants are paired with an over-sized, comfortable sweater, boots, and a statement necklace. And boom, I’m out the door. In the summer, my go-to emergency outfit, usually, is a maxi dress. Summer is just easier, am I right?

I try to only touch this outfit when I’m insanely lazy, or insanely late. But sometimes it gets worn a lot (winter is a bitch, what can I say). I’m beginning to think if someone drew a cartoon character of me, I would be in this outfit, all day err day. But, you know, I’m okay with it. Because without this easy outfit, I wouldn’t have made it to work on time, I wouldn’t have made a deadline, and instead would be pondering in my bedroom if I can mix and match argyle with stripes … and stressing myself out trying to make my hair Real Housewives wavy.

So ladies, get this outfit in order immediately. Consider it your suit of armor against lateness and looking like a disheveled mess. You can thank me later. And if you see a friend, co-worker, or frenemy wearing the same outfit constantly, instead of talking shit, give them a little head nod for being prepared like a BOSS.

I’m Trying To Can With This Post … But I Can’t

Capture6I’m 100% guilty of being an exaggerator to get my point across in conversation. Even just then in that sentence I exaggerated by saying “100%.” I don’t have the actual stats, but hey, it kind of verbally underlines and bolds it, don’t ya think?

So I couldn’t help but giggle at the SNL skit last weekend detailing the conversations of millennial interns. If you haven’t watched it yet, please do so. It will bring your dismal, rainy Wednesday up a notch. But whilst watching and laughing and saying, “oh interns,” I stopped dead in my tracks and thought to myself, “I LITERALLY say some of this stuff … holy shit I JUST DID IT. ACK!”

Millenials, right? Wrong. This kind of “speech” (if that is what we are calling it) runs across a vast number of ages. And after much thought and contemplation, I believe it is because we have all been hypnotized by reality shows like the Hills, Laguna Beach, and basically anything on Bravo and E!

I mean the Kardashians alone … hello? Have you HEARD them? Long drawn out vooooooooowels, lots of “EW.” and calling each other ridiculous names like “slores” (which, true story I have absolutely adopted that shit into my vocabulary … it’s too good not to), have trickled their way into every day conversation making us all think it is okay, when, in real reality, it is not.

Should we all go back to the Eliza Doolittle school of speech? Instead of “the rain in Spain,” nonsense, Professor Henry Higgins would sit us all down and attempt to get us to say a sentence without the word “literally” in it … because it makes no sense. You’re talking and telling a story. It’s not “figuratively” happening. So … then it must be literal. And by you telling me it is literally happening seems kind of repetitive, right? Right.

For the love of God, we need to stop pretending we are being filmed for a reality show as we sit at a bar and gab to our girlfriends about how we will, “LITERALLY die if we ever see that scumbags face ever again.” I’m guilty of it. Sometimes I hear myself talking after a few cocktails and I have this ache in my stomach for fear of what the quaint little couple next to me is thinking as I morph into my Kourtney Kardashian alter ego. Maybe I just shouldn’t give a shit, who knows.

All I’m saying is, hats off to SNL for making light of something most girls are guilty of. If you pride yourself on your proper and perfect English speech, then good for you, Harvard grad, here’s a cookie. For the rest of us average millennials, let’s make a conscious effort to remove these from our vocabulary today. I wish I could shock you every time you said, “LITERALLY” or “I DIIIIIIIIIIIE,” but alas, I fear that is drastically illegal.

Class is in session. Lesson 1: Things we should no longer be saying … ahem:

1. Literally

2. OH MY GOD :::fill in blank:::

3. I can’t even

4.I literally … just cannot

5. Exaggerations regarding the weather … Ex: It’s like 500 degrees in here, I’m melting (no it’s not, it’s a balmy 78 and you will live)

6. Don’t even

7. Exaggerations regarding timing … Ex: Uuuggghhh, I’ve been waiting for you for like a million trillion years (you would be dead if that was LITERALLY true. Stop it.)

8. Exaggerations about hunger … Ex: My stomach is literally eating itself, I’m going to pass out and die. (It isn’t scientifically possible to happen in one day. Calm down and eat a Kind bar.)

9. Really? REALLY?

10. EW, Seriously? EW.

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Believe In Your Own BS

beyonce-new-album-2013-video-flawlessLast night I found myself listening to Beyonce. Now prepare to throw rotten fruit at me when I say, I’m not the biggest Bey fan. I like her husband better, personally (HOVA!). And it isn’t because her songs aren’t catchy, and yes, you will absolutely see me backin’ it up to Drunkin’ Love, for sure. I just think her catchphrases linger around far too much and make me loathe the people that walk this Earth saying, “Surfboard,” in a strange voice and don’t happen to be in the ocean nor did they fill their tub up half way. Just sayin’.

But I found myself YouTubing the video for “Flawless,” last night because I needed a pick me up. Sometimes, when you’re feeling low and beaten down, all you need is a cocky, strong-ass bitch to pull you out of it. And when Cher wasn’t doing it for me, I turned to Beyonce.

God damn, God damn, God DAMN (see catchphrases, now I’m doing it) is that song crazy. Apart of me wants to stop her mid-strut and be like, “whoa whoa whoa, too big for your britches much?” And then another part of me wants to go all 90’s grunge, wear four inch stilettos, Merlot lips, and stand in the middle of a bunch of bad ass stylish ladies and say, “yeah bitch, I DO look so good tonight, thank you for reminding me, Bey. UP TOP :::high five” (Now do we think Beyonce gives high fives? I feel like that’s a no.)

I know this song is SO 2014, but it made me think about a little something called believing your own bullshit. I’m almost positive that Beyonce, once in a blue moon, stops herself during the day and goes, “holy fuck, I did NOT wake up like this,” as a team of professionals make her look PhotoShop chic. Now my friends will tell you, if they ever happen to drop me a compliment, “you look so thin,” “you’re worth more than that nonsense,” “wow, that outfit looks great,” I will more than likely thank them, but say, “bitch, please.” Because I, sadly, don’t believe my own bullshit. And that is a fatal flaw of mine.

Beyonce walks this Earth like she owns the damn place because she believes it. Oprah has a following of minions that would probably eat dirt if she put it on her “Favorite Things” list and labeled it “organic,” because she MAKES them believe her bullshit. Sure, we all have days, like I did last night, where we just want to crawl into bed and say, “you know what, you win, I’m out.” But no. Here and there, we deserve to boost about ourselves and stand up and say, “hell YES I look amazing today,” and “NO sadly … I’m not an ugly bitch, but thanks for thinking of me.”

True, I do think Beyonce is a little cocky. But hell, nowadays to sell your own personal brand (which ps. we all have, whether you like it or not) we need to do it with a little pizzazz (that word just isn’t used enough). And in order to do that, we need to believe our own bullshit. You think Pepsi sits in a corner like a meek little mouse and just prays to Jesus big bad Coke won’t smack the shit out of them? No. They get pre-K. Fed Britney Spears to dance half naked on a commercial during the Super Bowl chugging their beverage (still my all-time fave Pepsi commercial). Let’s pay homage shall we?

tumblr_mp3zz9fhyi1s1z34ho1_500What I’m saying is, it’s okay to own up to the things that make you great, whether you’re an amazing athlete. Have a career that is booming out of control. Or just find yourself to be a genuinely nice human being who cares for the people around them immensely.

I’m very lucky to have people in my life who remind me daily to believe my own bullshit (even though it isn’t bullshit, but you know what I mean). The shit you’re afraid to say because you think people will see you as a cocky hot mess. Well I say, do it once a week. And I’m here to say, wind blowing in my hair, eyes peering from side-to-side, in a sparkly one-piece suit, Beyonce-style, own yours, too.

Here goes: I was voted the third best blogger, and #1 fashion blogger in Philadelphia. :::drops mic:::

Your turn.

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