Gotta Run

Club Monaco sweater, Vince pants, Nine West shoes, Ray-Ban sunglasses, Chanel bag

Whenever I take my doggie-niece Maggie to the dog park, she is always "that dog". You know "that dog" that always follows someone around barking and howling her little head off for no apparent reason at all. The victim she chooses is usually pretty understanding, albeit a little annoyed. But sometimes, there's that one man or woman who takes her barking VERY personally and completely overreacts by giving me the stink-eye or huffing and puffing around my vicinity. They act like this tiny dog hand-picked them out because of some personal vendetta or flaw they have and she's calling them out in barks. Trust me, she doesn't care that you never finished college, or that you ate that extra Snickers, or that you really like watching the "The Bachelor" but then tell everyone you don't. She just smelled your butt and didn't like it. That's about the extent of what she cares about. So, if this person is you, you run circles around me with your stink-eye because you need to get over it; she's a dog, not one of the Mean Girls judging your bad hair day. If you really want it to stop, you can always just change your butt smell. 

Vita Fede and Anarchy Street bracelets, Vita Fede and Maison Martin Margiela rings

Maxi-Dress Monday

BCBG dress, Club Monaco leather jacket, Coach sandals, Ray-Ban sunglasses

I've learned a lot since I've been blogging the last few months, many things that are really unexplainable to me. One of those things are the types of photos to take for posting on social media. Everyone knows about the macarons, that's pretty old news. Photos of macarons for some reason are blogger gold. I never remember being a lover of macarons when I was young, and even now I think they're pretty good, but better than an Almond Joy? I don't think so. They're not even the cutest of all the desserts. Hello petit fours?? Those are actually teeny tiny mini cakes for god sakes! Still no love like the love for a macaron.

Flower photos are also really good. However, if you decide to take a photo of flowers then there better be a fucking peony in it. Even if you're not THAT into peonies, you still better just get some and you should caption it "my weekly flower run". I don't know if you actually have to buy them though. If you want to take photos of food, do brunch food. ALWAYS and ONLY brunch food. Bloggers love to brunch and let everyone know it. Don't know why. It's all unexplainable and arbitrary but these are the rules. I haven't taken pictures of any of these things though, mainly because I don't think that people will believe that I'm the the girl who's heading out at 10:00 am to the flower market maintaining all these flowers in my all white apartment, then heading to brunch with my peonies and lavender infused macarons. I'm actually allergic to flowers, I don't like brunch food and macarons will never be my favorite dessert. If you saw me doing my favorite thing, you would see me going to a "Saw" movie with some beef sticks--with the first stick to be eaten after "first kill". Something tells me the words "first kill" isn't a popular blogger hashtag. 

Hermes, Vita Fede and Anarchy Street bracelets

Orangina

Zara sweater, Joe's jeans, Guess shoes, Mark and Graham bag, Ray-Ban sunglasses

I have a few questions for you. Is there any way that this sweater is just a little too orange? Or a little too big? Is it just big and orange? Does my bowl haircut make me look like a human jack-o-lantern? Now that I said jack-o-lantern do I remind you more and more of one? And they say blogger life is easy. Psshhh. 

Erica Anenberg, Cartier rings, Vita Fede and Anarchy Street bracelets

In The Trenches

Club Monaco trench coat, Club Monaco faux leather shorts, Zara tank, Guess shoes, Chanel bag

I've somehow mysteriously developed a new habit. I say habit because to me, if I do something or if something happens to me at least three times I consider that a habit. It started three nights ago. I brush my teeth, then I make myself comfortable on the couch, I watch my nightly smut tv with peppermint ice cream,  I then switch from smut tv to a movie on a premium cable channel, I fall asleep on the couch...and then I wake up to soft-core porn!! I don't know how or why I always end up on the Skinamax channel and soft-core porn! At first, it's a little jarring to wake up to soft-core porn, but then you just get really disappointed. The performers have these bored and sullen faces against some sort of pool house backdrop and cheesy porn music. Like, even they're bored with this whole sex charade. Like, they know if they were really good, they would be doing hard-core porn with a better payload (pun intended). I mean, if I'm going to be jarred awake by sex, I at least want a cheap thrill from it. But no, I just end up going to bed feeling cheap and a little dirty--just like the movie. I better get used to it. For some reason, I apparently and involuntarily love waking up to soft-core porn. Here's to tonight's performance being more energetic. Ugh, bad habits, die hard. 

Rue Gembon, Cartier, David Yurman and my own rings