Fashion Fades; Style is Eternal


Sunday, December 14, 2014

How To Pull Off Sequined Pants.

Sequins are rad; if you're up for a challenge, that is.

For some reason (actually, lots of reasons), sequins pose as a serious fashion risk with a 99% chance of you looking like a hot mess. And not in a sexy way.

I don't think I need to go into detail regarding the catastrophic 99 percentile. We all know a cringe-worthy look when we see one. Instead, allow me to be straight up.

Here's how to pull off sequined pants without looking like you raped a disco ball:

1. If you're going to be bold, and my dear, sequins are bold, you might as well go balls to the effing walls and say goodbye to traditional. Trousers are swell, but if you really want to get jaws dropping you should make them drop down low for a drop crotch. The pair above by Givenchy not only has a killer Harlem attitude, but it also uses a multitude of sequin hues allowing you to A. wear this (expensive) pair of sequined pants with multiple pieces you should already have in your closet - black tank, white distressed tee, tuxedo blazer, etc. - and B. not be a basic betch.

2. If you're gonna be a basic betch, your best option is to go with basic black. I actually really love this pair of sequined black trousers by Donna Karan, even if morally I'm obliged to disclose that I think that Donna is a total Debbie Downer, but whatev. This pair is ridiculously flattering and is so basic that if you show up to a party and sequins are just not vibing, these pants basically scream, "Sequins? Psh, as if I'd be daring enough to wear sequins. Ease up on the champs, Marge."

3. Sidenote: If you're going with basic black, try a really cool high-waisted version like the above by Jason Wu. Not everything looks better high-waisted, but sequins typically do. 

4. If you show up to a party where sequins are just not vibing, the best possible thing to do is rebel, naturally. This manrepelling pair of Jean Paul Gaultier does just that. This pair is so effing ugly, but it's wearability is out the roof. I totally see this with a high-neck button up, a weird graphic cut-out tank, or a sports jersey jacket that isn't actually sports-affiliated. I wouldn't spend 4k on a pair, but if I happened to come across one at a consignment store that hadn't been hemmed (because that sh*t would be up to my knees and no one likes capris), I would snag it for sure.

5. If you're a bargain hunter and don't want to spend a handbag's worth of savings on a pair of outdated stylized pants that you'll only wear once and have a 99% chance of being a disaster, I highly recommend going with a pair by Alice + Olivia. They're trendy, the cut is always really chic, there are tons of cute sequined options that really aren't that tacky, and they always go on sale at Neimans or Saks for at least half the price. Score.

P.S. Don't wear a pair of slightly pointy-toed heels with sequined pants like the model is doing above. This looks stupid. Wear an ultra high basic pump in black or go with something strappy. Absolutely no boots, even if they're booties, and don't you dare wear flats. If you don't want a heel, break out a pair of cool kicks (i.e. something like these YSL sneakers). 

Because, who cares? You're wearing sequined pants for God's sake.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

My Favorite Things; Holiday Candles.

You know that song "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music?

If I were to make up my own version of the song, I'd definitely swap out "whiskers on kittens" for "man buns on hipsters" and change up "silver white winters that melt into springs" with something more like "sexy vacations that base a good tan" - but that's just me.

Crisp apple streudels and schnitzel with noodles can stay on the menu for sure, but I'd throw in some homemade baklava too, for the sake of us all carb-loading.

Oh and you know what else would definitely make the chorus? Holiday candles.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad (and my resting bitch face is starting to cramp), I simply start burning my favorite scents, and then I start to feel pretty badass.

Holiday candles literally make this time of the year for me, I simply can't get enough. This festive madness overloading the senses starts around October when pumpkin spice and everything nice begins to not-so-gracefully stock a white girl's shelves. Le basic. But, oh, it smells so good. I love the festive change up from my trusty Tom's burning year-round (Tom Dixon Element CandleTom Ford Tuscan Leather Candle) and Crisp Champagne bubbling on the hour by Voluspa.

What I personally like? The ooey and gooey-er the better. Caramel, brown sugar, bourbon flavored anything. Pumpkin is cool, and so is anything that gives reference to holing up in a cabin in the woods with a TD&H (tall, dark, & handsome) man decked out in red flannel with the smell of pinecones and freshly roasted s'mores wafting through the air. Oh, and don't forget a hint of hot cocoa flirting with peppermint bark. I'm all about that peppermint, and sleigh bell sugar cookie, and gingerbread whipped cream Irish coffee with a candy cane twist. The names start to get disgustingly glutenous as the season wears on.

Anyway, so happy we're talking holiday candles and not holiday calories.

Unless you plan on ingesting these, which I highly do not recommend that you do, you can indulge calorie free all season long.

Here are a few of my favorite indulgences...

Oh, and this one isn't "holiday flavored," but I think it's really cool and since I won't be blogging about candles for say, at least a good month or few, let me share before I forget to care:

Basically, you burn that betch down and it reveals your fortune! 

Only at Urban Outfitters, naturally.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

S'mores Lasagna Up In 'Da Kitch.

Some mornings I wake up, mediate in my fuzzy socks for all things love and beautiful goodness for the world, slide over to the kitchen Risky Business style for a giant cup of black coffee, and make my way back to my desk (I now work from home which is seriously like Christmas morning every morning), and indulgently pin some weird sh*t to warm my fingertips up.

This morning I came across the coolest thing I had seen in a long, long time.

S'mores Lasagna. Kid. You. Not.

This badass little blogger, beyond frosting is seriously the most innovative one I've seen in the kitch. I'm so obsessed with her blog and especially her recipe for S'mores Lasagna. I mean, how did she come up with that? Brilliant. Just brilliant. And by the way, if you love ooey gooey campfire in a dish (if you don't, you have problems), beyond frosting has tons of other recipes like S'mores Rice Krispie TreatsBourbon Toasted S'mores Milkshake, and S'mores Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream.

I know, this betch's kitchen is seriously on fire.

Here's how to toast up her famous lasagna...


1 pkg instant chocolate pudding (3.4 oz)
1 3/4 cup milk
1 container cool whip (8 oz)
1 jar marshmallow crème fluff (7 oz)
1 cup mini marshmallows - toasted, duh
2 pkg chocolate graham crackers
1 pkg graham crackers
2 cups heavy whipping cream
2-3 tbsp powdered sugar
2 tbsp sweetened cocoa powder
24 large marshmallows
hot fudge sauce for drizzle


1. Start by mixing the instant chocolate pudding with milk. Whisk until pudding mix is dissolved. Refrigerate until firm; about 10 minutes.

2. In a mixing bowl, combine the cool whip and marshmallow crème. Beat until smooth.

3. Using a heat proof bowl, microwave mini marshmallows for 10 seconds. Use a kitchen torch with a low flame to gently toast the marshmallow. Beat into cool whip and marshmallow crème mixture.

4. Line a 9x13” pan with tin foil or parchment paper. Lay down a layer of chocolate graham crackers on the bottom of the pan. Try and cover all edges evenly. Do not break apart the larger pieces until you need to fill in the cracks.

5. Take 1/3 of your marshmallow cool whip and gently spread over the bottom layer of graham crackers.

6. Next spread half of the pudding mix onto the top of the marshmallow cool whip.

7. Make the next layer using regular graham crackers. Try and cover all edges evenly. Do not break apart the larger pieces until you need to fill in the cracks.

8. Take another 1/3 of your marshmallow cool whip and gently spread over this layer of graham crackers followed by the remaining pudding.

9. Make the next layer using chocolate graham crackers. Try and cover all edges evenly. Do not break apart the larger pieces until you need to fill in the cracks.

10. Use the remaining marshmallow crème mixture to gently spread over the top of the chocolate graham crackers.

11. Make the chocolate whipped cream by using a stand mixer. Beat the cream on med-high for a few minutes until bubbly. Add 2 tablespoons of powdered sugar and 2 tablespoons of sweetened cocoa powder. Beat until stiff peaks form. If the whipped cream is too bitter, add an additional tablespoon of powdered sugar.

12. Refrigerate for 2-4 hours to allow each layer to set.

13. You can top the lasagna with a layer of toasted marshmallows if you desire. Use a piece of parchment paper or microwave-safe plate. Microwave in groups of 10 for 10-15 seconds until soft. Move them with a knife onto the top of the lasagna. Use a kitchen torch on low flame to gently toast the marshmallows.

14. Drizzle with hot fudge and leftover graham crackers crumbs.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Chic Accoppiato for the Socialite; ZuZu Kim.

Getting dressed up to go out can sometimes be the most annoying chore if nothing in your closet is inspiring you. New pieces, old pieces, same sh*t. If the inspiration is dead, even your spiked Louboutin high-tops look like effing old news. Le sigh.

My friends and I will seriously pick themes for our nights out just so we have something to get excited about and channel new inspiration. For instance, we've done Met Ball Circa 2013 (Punk: Chaos to Couture), one of our favorites, Arabian Nights, you know I love an amazing turban and definitely don't require a theme to wear one, Blue, we literally went to the MAC make-up counter and chose a facial feature to dedicate entirely to the color blue. My incredibly artistic friend knows no limits and literally went full blue mouth, it was totally boundary pushing. She even wanted to do her eyebrows, but we're saving that for our Highlighted Eyebrow theme...just kidding, kind of

Anyway, if you're like me and get down with a theme for a night out, I've got an amazing new addition to your rolodex of exhibitions; Chic Accoppiato.

What's Chic Accoppiato you ask? Oh dear reader, we're about to get specific. 

Side note, I was so excited for a minute, I almost just typed an exclamation point after that, and I do not work exclamation points into my language. 

But, exclamation point this, if you must: 

ZuZu Kim Chic Accoppiato for the Socialite to be exact. A-F-ing-MEN.

If you haven't heard of ZuZu Kim, ZuZu Kim is a ready-to-wear, contemporary line founded by the unconventionally and artistically creative, Christina Kim. Her collection is luxuriously strong with an emphasis in chic. I was thrilled to discover her recent addition to the brand, "Accoppiato," a collection of strikingly exquisite, unisex bow ties. 

Christina describes the mood of her neckwear as "exciting, luxurious, unexpected, elegant, chic, and appeals to consumers of all ages from uptown to downtown." And this balanced and fresh new look, naturally New York City produced, dear readers, is a mood I severely dig.

Each bow tie is almost entirely handmade and put together using the finest European fabrics and trims, and of course unexpected elements which Christina believes "offsets the energy and convention of design." Yes, please.

So much passion is cultivated in the Accoppiato collection, it's invigorating and a privilege to wear.

Check it...

*5% of entire online sales are donated to the VH1 Save The Music Foundation, a non-profit foundation supporting music education, enriching and inspiring the passion of public school children with the donation of new musical instruments.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Rule #11; We All Just Want A Monkey.

Miu Miu

Waking up this morning, I reflected upon yesterday's post (10 Tricks to Waking Up Golden) and came up with a very crucial #11.

11. Revisit #1, you idiot. Stop after 2, unless it's celebratory. Seriously.

Last night pink came to play, and by pink, I mean by very favorite diluted blush hue on the color wheel that only Miu Miu could get right (picture above) in contrast with an oddly sad, dingy bluebird blue; rosé, lovely and crisp rosé wine.

Who drinks rosé in October? This betch does.

Oh, and please excuse my third person reference...I really try not to do that, as it is so incredibly tacky, especially in written form, but I'm still drunk and felt it was very much appropriate.

As the rosé I was drinking was kicking Dom's stars around the sky and I was shooting the sh*t (we're such a turbulent pair), a dear friend said something, completely unknowingly, that really stuck.

I was talking, no, whining, about how I want what I can't if that's not the oldest line in the Marilyn Monroe Book of Single White Girl Quotes, first edition.

To set the record straight, I wasn't doing it in an "Oh pity me and pass the wine" type of way, it was more of a matter of fact, "Mother was right, I really do want what I can't have" type of way. And yes, off the record but for your literary entertainment, I was talking about a boy, so shoot me.

My friend then said, and this is where it gets really interesting, dear reader:

"We all just want a monkey."

We all just want a monkey...I thought...what the f*ck does...oh wait, I totally and utterly get what that means right now. And so not in a sense that he (my friend, not God, although he would probably like to think he was God) meant it.

My friend was simply being witty and pretty damn practical, like he tends to be, by saying we all just want a monkey. You know, like the kind that dances around and throws its own sh*t at people. Super cute.

He's so right. We all just want a monkey.

A new novelty.

Whether that monkey is a new toy, a new boy, a new idea, a new creative outlet, whatever.

It doesn't have to be the prettiest monkey in the jungle, sometimes we want a new monkey who is a project or sometimes we just want a new monkey who shows a little interest.

Moral of the story: Find your new monkey.

Stop trying to teach your old monkey new tricks. Give that old monkey a comfy satin pillow to sit on and find your new monkey.

We all want one, don't be scared or hesitate to go out there and find yours. It doesn't mean you don't love your old monkeys, your old ideas, your past lovers, it just means you just want a new one that enchants you and inspires you and drives you to reach an entirely new level of being and purpose.

Find that new sparkling monkey that dances in your eyes.

Whatever in the world that new monkey might be.

I know, I just totally went Carrie Bradshaw sock drawer and french fries on you.

But, this really fucking makes sense to me.

No astrick intended.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014

10 Tricks to Waking Up Golden.

"My Love" - Route 94, Jess Glynne

Do you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up rested and with energy, not feeling like you need something that's more than coffee but less than cocaine? You sprawl out in your bed, toes tangling off the edge, and stretch in a way that makes you never want to share your bed with anyone else again. There's a strong beat blasting in your head (or out of your Bose speakers) and you are f*cking convinced that you're starring in an epic movie of your life.

Those mornings are golden, and there's no reason why they shouldn't happen every day.

Here are 10 Tricks to Waking Up Golden Every Morning:

1. Stop after 2, unless it's celebratory. There's no reason why you should be binging on Dom if you've had a bad day or worse, a bad date. You're doing Dom Perignon all wrong if you're tasting the stars out of pure spite. Stop being a lush and give yourself a two drink maximum. 

2. Neutrogena that sh*t off. Girls that go to bed with their make-up on positively baffle me. It's self-destructive behavior to your pores and to your Egyptian cotton bed sheets. If you don't have time to Clarisonic, at least take a make-up wipe to your face - it takes .2 seconds and you can totally do it in the dark.

3. Take your hair down. I totally get the messy bun religion, I worship with a top knot in between the temples too. However, smashing your head against a pillow and rolling your head like you're the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs) performing at Coachella is only going to give you split ends and bad breaks. Let your locks run free. Tangles are better than damaged casualties. 

4. Keep your phone far away. There's no need to leave your phone underneath your pillow like you're waiting for the iMessage Fairy to show up and leave you a fat stack of cash for the number of drunk texts received. The only text messages I receive after bedtime are texts from exes and texts from my dear insomniac mother who is reading my horoscope for the next day or googling Ebola outbreaks, all of which can wait until morning.

5. Turn your ceiling fan down a notch. I know, I love laying in bed with a sweatshirt on all huddled up in my duvet like I'm an Eskimo staring straight into a massive ice storm. However, this is super drying to your eyeballs. Avoid waking up the next morning like a dried up mummy on display at The Met by turning that rotating orb down a purr.

6. No binging on Netflix before bed. As much as I love watching a dramatic series years after it was relevant (cough cough, Grey's Anatomy, all 10 seasons last month, betch), for the sake of my beauty I had to ween myself off the Netflix nip. During my Californication phase I would seriously stay up all night wondering if Hank and Karen would have sex again. Um, duh. Watch a show or two of whatever series has you hooked, early enough before bed, and then separate yourself. Don't worry, you'll get back together, just like Carrie and Big did in SATC, no sense in losing precious sleep over it.

7. Have a cup of tea. I drink tea upon rising, throughout the day, and before bed. I fully believe that tea is the ultimate remedy; for more energy, for clarity of mind, for stuffy noses, for sore throats, for plumper lips...just kidding on that last one, but that would be badass. Teavana is like the holy grail of herbs. Sidenote, have you tried their new seasonal blends? S'mores, white chocolate peppermint, pumpkin spice and pure effing amazingness, gotta check it out. Anyway, point being, relax with a cup of tea before bed, get your body and mind ready for sleep.

8. Recognize something(s) you're grateful for. Whether it's the fact that you're getting killer triceps from all those chaturangas you've been doing in yoga, your favorite singer moved on in the "knock out rounds" of The Voice, you ate super healthy all day long and didn't blow it by eating the entire pack of vegan Newman-O's creepin' in your cupboard, or something more meaningful, of course. End your day with gratitude.

9. Think about something(s) you're looking forward to in the morning. Maybe it's the hot tattooed barista who makes your skinny almond milk latte just right, a caramelized half a grapefruit you've perfected, or a really warm vintage Chloé sweater you can finally wear now that it feels like fall outside. It's the little things, think of them, be excited to wake up for them.

10. Never f*cking go to bed with socks on your feet. Ever.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Sexy Smoothie Talk Series; Pumpkin Me.

Pumpkin Flax Smoothie

Let me preface this post by saying: I am not a food blogger.


1. Contrary to popular belief, I can cook like a f*cking champ. But with that being said, my favorite thing to make is still a reservation.

2. I hate photographing food. Food is the most un-photogenic betch in the biz. It takes serious lens skill and knowledge of angles to get the right shot.

3. Nutrition? Le snooze. I'd rather cancel a reservation and photograph food than talk about macros.


I made such a badass smoothie yesterday morning after yoga, I couldn't not share with you.

We already discussed my jealous exes and fan-freaking-tastic smoothie blending talents in Sexy Smoothie Talk Series; Superfood Me., so here's a little continuation of the so called "series."

On the topic of protesting 500 calorie plus smoothies, I have another ewwy gooey pumpkin guts middle to pick with pumpkin spice and everything not so nice calorie wise.

Why is it okay that just because the drink or treat is "pumpkin spice" it can be a thousand calories? It's absolutely ridiculous because pumpkin is in fact, low in calories, superficially speaking. Pumpkin spice, in no way, shape or fattening festive form, needs to be a calorie bomb. Screw Starbucks for throwing in fat-filled white chocolate into their PSL's. Don't conform.

Blend this sexy beast up...

Pumpkin Flax Smoothie


3/4 cup unsweetened almond milk
1/3 cup pure pumpkin purée
1/2 banana
1 tablespoon raw honey
1 tablespoon ground flaxseed (plus a sprinkle on top if you're instagramming)
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice*

*if you don't have pumpkin pie spice on hand, DIY by mixing equal parts ground ginger, ground cloves, ground nutmeg and ground cinnamon spices (1/4 teaspoon each, but I usually go heavier in the cinnamon than the ginger).


Blend it up and throw it back.


This smoothie makes enough for one skinny betch.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Hyde: How Yoga Defines Experience.

Most of us pride ourselves on eating organically and doing our best to stay away from harmful pesticides, pollutants, and processed pests. We are well aware (or at least, slightly informed) of the very un-cool effects these toxic P-words have on our bodies and on our earth. Contaminated water, harmful air to our lungs, hair on our chests, man-boobs, third-eyes all around - in a very not so yogi sense - terrifying!

So, we hit up our neighborhood's farmers market on the regular, sub-in organic raw nut milks when ordering our morning lattes, and use natural cleaning products generously around the house.

Sometimes however, we forget that what we put on the outside of our body is just as important as what we put in it. Why bother foregoing deliciously modified and artificially sweetened candy if you're just going to drape yourself in unsustainably manufactured cotton processed with chemicals? 

Priorities, dear reader, priorities.

This is especially important to consider if you're sweating and breathing more than the typical stationary human being. Such as, you're going for a run along the beach or down dogging it in a hot yoga class. 

For the sake of this one-sided conversation, let's say for instance, you're doing the latter. You're sweating and twisting and detoxifying and you just want to get your hot and sweaty chaturanga game on in a healthy, natural fashion.

Strip yourself from those toxic and artificially altered yoga pants right now.

I've found yoga clothes as organic and as vibrant as your custom juice blend from Whole Foods...take a sip from Hydehow yoga defines experience.

Hyde yoga apparel was created fifteen years ago with a commitment to providing versatile clothing of a high organic quality, affordable pieces that are designed with the thoughtful yoga practice in mind, and a true dedication to a sustainable living.

Quick little story from Hyde on why they chose organic here: Why Organic?

I love Hyde and how their clothes honor the body, respecting it by offering only products of the purest form. Not to mention, Hyde offers some pretty incredible colors if having the most colorful yoga pants in the room is a thing for you...I know it is for me.

Here's what's organically juicing from Hyde now...

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

5 Boyfriends I, As A Vegan, Could Do Without.

Yesterday, my mom, sister and I were eating lunch at Nordies (so 1996 of us, I know, we love it) and I think I found my future dinner table partner for life. A table runner named Andy. He was adorable and wore thick framed glasses and totally understood why I didn't want a sour cream drizzle and cheddar cheese garnish on my vegan black bean soup.

He topped off my black coffee and didn't ask if I wanted any cream, and at the end of our meal he brought a tray with two chocolate mint sticks and a mini box of organic raisins for me, so I wouldn't feel left out if I "wanted a little something sweet." I'm pretty sure my resting b*tch face was blushing.

It was love, and it took me a hell of a long time to find it.

Being vegan is the ultimate c*ckblock in the dating world.

Seriously, you're better off saying you have the herp than spreading the word that you don't eat the chewy meats and cheeses.

I've had so many boyfriends that have totally sucked at accepting the fact that I choose to eat vegan. I literally could write an epic novel devoted to each and every one of them. Sure, it wasn't their total hypocritical ignorance to kale and quinoa that persuaded me to giving them the ax, but it certainly was straw that broke the poor herbivore's back.

And let me preface this with the fact that I am the most unobtrusive vegan to walk the planet. I'll totally eat a bite of your Persian mother's carnivorous cooking, I genuinely love your head to toe leather look, and I'm so down with really sugary frosting off grocery store bought birthday long as we're being celebratory, it's a bunch of artificial sh*t anyway.

But, some of you really pissed me off...

1. There was Ryan. Ryan was a people pleaser.

He would ask me out days in advance and spend hours Yelping the crunchiest vegan restaurants in the city. He would only take me out to restaurants that had hemp décor and served raw macrobiotic bowls with unheard of organic ingredients. I would tell Ryan over and over again that we could go to normal places, places where I could actually wear my leather Givenchy boots to without getting PETA prosecuted, order a salad with three simple ingredients, and drink half my weight in wine, but he wouldn't hear of it. After two months of dining out in granola hubs that smelled like feet (I'm sure it was the tahini) and failing to get drunk off of liters of kombucha because none of the veggie dens had an actual liquor license, I ended things with Ryan.

May he R.I.P.

2. Then there was Andrew. Andrew was a full of sh*t human being.

We would go out to really amazing restaurants and every time he opened up a menu he would praise himself on how great of a vegan he was 90% of the time and that he "hadn't eaten red meat in years." He said that I made him a healthy human being. I would tell him supportively, "babe, I'm so proud of you," as I rolled my eyes and downed my gin in preparation for what I knew was coming next. Andrew would make a huge fuss over there being no vegan options at Mastro's, spend ten minutes trying to create something elaborate while lecturing the poor waitress at her inability to write fast enough, and then he would order a steak. With the brown butter glaze. When it came time for the plates to be cleared, Andrew would literally hold up his hand like a total prick and say, "not finished."  He would then take his finger, drag it across the plate, and lick off the last of the butter that had collected on his plate. Andrew was under 30, super hot and was the CEO of not one, but a handful of Forture 500 corporations and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt so badly and pretend he was just mentally ill, but I couldn't hang.

May he R.I.P.

3. Then, there was Bill. Bill was too lazy to google what being vegan was.

Every time we would go out he would want to share these retarded animal-based dishes. Cheese boards, seafood platters, pulled pork sliders, you name it. Bill was hilarious and a riot to hang out with, so I was always super agreeable and accommodating, tactfully dodging around the weird things he would want to get and drinking very heavily. I told him time and time again that I was in fact a vegan, but that he could get whatever he wanted. Knock your carnivorous socks off, Bill. At Taco Tuesday he would go, "hm, you're vegan, what to get, what to about we start off with the queso dip!" or one time at brunch, "this place has the best eggs benedict! I know you're vegan, so you can order it with poached salmon instead of canadian bacon!" - like wtf, Bill. One morning he made me scrambled eggs and chicken sausage. I drank my black coffee standing up and left.

May he R.I.P.

4. Then, there was Kevin. Kevin wanted a project.

Sure, I was hard to get and a mystery in the beginning, I could tell off the bat that Kevin loved a challenge. But, what really hooked Kevin was the fact that I didn't eat animal products and he believed that he was the one person set out on this earth to change me. What silly Kevin didn't know, is that all he needed to do is slip a Maple Bacon Bar by Chuao in front of me with a bottle of champagne, and my vegan roots would crumble to the ground right then and there. I have my weak moments, shoot me. Anyway, every time we went out, Kevin would order a delicious looking burger or creamy lobster mac and cheese and prompt me by saying, with one eyebrow raised, "come on honey, one bite." Barf. Everyone knows a vegan is like a cat. The vegan will come to you, you do not come to it. One evening, Kevin came after me saying "just one bite, you know you want to." I clawed him.

May he R.I.P.

5. Then, there was John. John was very philosophical.

In the beginning, John was way too into learning about being vegan. He wanted to read my books, he wanted to watch Netflix documentaries with me, he wanted to pick my garden of a brain to a barren dirt patch for information about being vegan. I thought it was sweet at first, he was so oddly interested, but it didn't freaking end. The "well, what do you eat?" and "why are you vegan?" questions came up during each meal and every other pre-yoga snack. A quick little FYI to those who may not be aware: We hate explaining to people why we're vegan, just as much as you hate hearing it, if not more. That being said, I dumped John with no explanation.

May he R.I.P.

*All names have been changed in order to protect the ex-boyfriends who deserve a smelly soy cheese slapping and overcooked tofurkey beating. Lastly, if you are a boy and are entertaining the idea of a vegan girlfriend, a word of advice: just let her freaking be, she will survive.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Indian Summer Forecast; Beso de Sal.

A la chalaca, Morena, La bikini, Colorada, Leche de tigre, Tres Bahías, Catita, yes please.

I'm ordering off of an indulgent Peruvian menu, and no, while a super-hot mix of colors and flavors is present, nothing is edible...for the mouth, at least.

Beso de Sal is a sexy little swimwear line designed and directed by the exotically creative Maria Jose. Her designs are produced in rarity, offering the highest quality and upmost exclusivity. Inspired by the rich cultures found throughout Peru, Maria Jose, with the help of her talented in-house team, create uniquely exotic swimwear pieces that flatter the silhouette and offer some serious Peruvian bikini candy.

Check out these designs...

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