Phanatic Drag


This excites me to no end.

Get A Grip!




Now, I'm not setting myself apart from the female race all together- but women [girls?] these days have a strange fixation on weather or not someone is interested in their lives. Social networking has blown our heads completely out of proportion. However subliminally, we are beginning to question our relevance in the world based on how many friends we have on Facebook. There is a type of obscurity that can only come after the world has been over-saturated with your douchebaggery. Think: The Corey's from the 80's. You couldn't go anywhere without hearing about their shit show, now one of them is dead, and the other is a total laughing stock. A few years ago when Lindsay Lohan was was asked if she wished she could just lead a "normal" life. Her response was shocking. She explained that the constant berating of photographers and tabloid reporters was her own personal proof that she still exists. Deep.

If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Here's my take. Take it or leave it.

I've found that the girls who publicly claim that someone is "stalking" them [weather it be via Internet or actual real life activity] are typically social climbers. In some cases, serial daters, groupies [I don't just mean bands, I mean social cliques too], and sport fuckers [the type that have sex with guys just to say they had sex with said bass player from popular band]. I think they're lost souls seeking social identity because they have no personal identity or in some cases dislike quite a bit about themselves. But then again, I'd hate myself too if I was desperately seeking acceptance from others. Typically, when the tables are turned- said social climber doesn't have much to say in defense. The last thing she wanted was actual confrontation- so she works passive aggressively. Only making claims among like minded friends and fort knox-esque privacy settings.

Girls, lets be real here. Nobody is stalking you. It's all in your head, because that's where some of you are living- completely in your own head, thinking very little of the possibility that there is life outside of your orbit. There is life beyond Facebook, and twitter, and tour busses, and the DJ booth. Human kind has been progressing steadily for billions of years before you arrived- what makes you think that it stopped to look when you came along?

Intervention


The first word I learned how to spell was Candy. C-A-N-D-Y. Ask anyone. The reason for this was because my caretakers were forced to spell the word instead of saying it in my presence. As a result, I started repeating it, and upon putting 2 and 2 together, I realized relatively soon what those five letters meant.

Don't get it wrong, I wasn't spoiled, I said please and thank you- I asked nicely- Always. Otherwise I wouldn't get it. But the rate at which I was asking for it was enough to be concerned. My family calls me Bean. I was a tiny little thing when I was little- Maureen the Jelly Bean. It's since been shortened and stuck, my constantly having a hand full of the sweets who's likeness i was named after might have been unrelated.

Now I'm 24, taking in upwards of three Diet Cokes a day, and always prepared with a treat within reach. My younger relatives fight over seating arrangements because of this. "I call a seat next to Maureen! She's got sweets in her bag!" I can't help myself in the check out at CVS. Dollar Store Candy comes in larger packages for a fraction of the price- I buy ten at a time "Just in case". I haven't yet identified the hypothetical situation in which a mouth full of peanut butter cups would save the day- none the less, I refuse to be unprepared.

The Easter Bunny has forgotten me for the 2nd year in a row. I know, I can't expect much since I haven't lived at home for some time- not to mention I'm building a home with boyfriend [That's big girl stuff]. But a chocolate bunny or a bag of jelly bellys would be nice. I think Dad-- I mean, the bunny-- is trying to tell me something. I've had two root canals and currently have no dental insurance, it might be in my best interest to lay off, but I haven't yet admitted that it's an issue. Not everything that's fun is healthy, but what's the harm in a few cavities? You only live once, and if my simple joys entail Twizzlers and Peeps then Carpe Diem, right? It could be worse.

An Ode to Ears.


Happy Easter everyone. I figured since today is the day to celebrate all things hippity hoppity I would compile a series of images proving the popularity of animal ears. Maison Michael and Marc Jacobs threw a few down the runways. Gaga wore them, MK +A wore them, so did SJP- given the right situation they're a perfect addition. They're not just for costume parties and playmates anymore. Next animal accessory I want to see? Tails. In Japanese street wear it's been popular to wear bushy fox tails attached to your belt or purse. I think I can make this work.







Surrendering to Function


At what point do women surrender all elements of style and switch to pure function? Has the trek to and from work begun to rival that of an expansive, arduous journey? Really girls- What is this, the Oregon trail? The commute from center city to its outlying counties does not merit running sneakers. If you MUST retire your easy spirit career collection pumps for the 45 minute train ride, at the very least let them be remotely relevant to your outfit. A pair of flats in your bag would due.

Also, while I have the mic...

I've seen the photos of the hoards of young women wearing sweatpants and Ugg boots for their annual pilgrimage though the underbelly of Delaware County's drinking subculture. I'm talking about Erin Express, and I have to question the necessity. I accept that it's a daytime event- which always calls for slightly casual attire, but is a proper pair of pants really cockblocking your drinking game? Are you so concerned with vomiting in public comfortably that you've resorted to wearing pajamas? It's bad enough that your riding in a school bus. I've had my share of drunken nights. Shit, I've braved 100 degree days on Citizen's Bank asphalt, and 10 below nights marching down 2nd Street all the while managing to get inebriated, and stay comfortable while wearing socially acceptable attire. Seriously girls, the right pair of jeans can make your ass look phenom' and god forbid you end up somewhere out of Delaware County, you wont be that girl wearing sweatpants.

I'm not a snob, I'm a woman that abhors the complete disintegration of the modern woman's sense of urgency to look complete when stepping out. I believe that you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

This is my plea, replace your running shoes with flats and slip them on under your desk after you clock out, this way if you're too uncomfortable to wear your heels to happy hour you wont look like a half-assed marathon runner when you finally chat up that guy in accounting with the nice ass. Reserve your sweatpants for the gym, Saturday mornings on the couch, and quick runs to the store. Make the switch and I promise that you'll either thank me or admit that I was right in my judgement.

D Squared Fall 2010












It was really hard to pick only a handfull of looks from the DSquared Fall 2010 show because I would probably wear all of it. The long red nails, the perfectly tailored leather, the cat eye, the skeleton shoes! The entire thing is to die for. I want all of it. THOSE SUNGLASSES. Hello?!

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I slept from 1pm to 5pm today. I will never go to sleep tonight. I do this a lot, and then I complain about my sleep patterns. I realize this is all my fault but there are few things I can think of that are more tempting than my bed. I love my bed. And besides the fact that I can't seem to stay away from it, I have the issue of falling asleep when my body reaches even so much as a semi-horizontal position. Reclining on the couch? Hello snooze town. I can't read a book in bed because it is 100% guaranteed that I will doze off after a few paragraphs. Forget talking on the phone with my head on a pillow- whoever is on the other end will eventually end up talking to themselves. Narcoleptic much? Or am I just a normal 24 year old? I don't exercise, I don't wake up early and eat healthy. I take naps instead.