winter by the seaside.

snowed. in.

images via fashiontoast
& oracle fox

blizzard me timbers.

We're about ten inches deep and I'm nursing some serious cabin fever and my fourth amaretto cranberry. The great thing about drinking at home with no intentions on leaving or being remotely social is that you don't have to put on pants, or underwear that still has elastic left in it for that matter. The day after christmas=largest buzzkill of the year. To compensate for the loss of anticipation, high-spirits and general purpose, direction and worth that accompanies this day I made the most of my morning and took a trip to the New Hampshire state liquor store, the sole attraction and redeeming feature of my town, and arguably of the entire state (post the collapse of the Old Man in the Mountain, rip.)




A combination of the sub zero temperatures and hours spent being forced to interact with my profane family is making me cruder than usual, and also leaving me with no choice but to substitute a hot water bottle for a lover. On a brighter note, locked in my New Years plans today after about of month of deliberation thanks to my indecisiveness. Finally decided on the Ganesvoort Park Avenue rooftop, and I'm unbelievably excited to see Lauryn Hill perform. Haven't decided on the outfit yet, thinking either a Helmut Lang black lace one-sleeved dress, or a green jungle print Max Mara maxi..will have to see what other people have in mind and feel it out.

Tried to post a weirdass video to a mind blowing song, but have given up, in accordance with my aforementioned loss of purpose and drive, so here's the link:
bombay by el guincho - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIdUBVjyY5A
try it on for size.

&images via studded hearts xxxxx

coal mining.

Got in some last minute Christmas shopping this morning. I must say I highly recommend handicap parking stickers for the holiday season-I breezed in and out of the mall in under twenty five minutes. All you need is a slight limp, nothing too exaggerated, to pass for someone with a bad hip or rickets. Also be sure to park slightly sloppily, but not overly so, handicapped people aren't blind. Currently listening to Julian Casablancas "I wish it was Christmas today," download it to play at your swanky, raunchy, wild or utterly mundane christmas parties tonight here http://www.mediafire.com/?m2mo4x1jyym.
On my way to consume impossible an impossible amount of cocktail shrimp.


images via fashionlane

Be good, there's only a matter of hours left until judgment day.
xxxxx top of the naughty list g

take no prisoners.

Clad in reindeer antlers and a dress with a giant silk bow on the front, I must have realized at some point last night that I had absolutely zero chance of attracting heterosexual men and resorted to a pastime popular with my roommates-outing non-gays, ultimately ending in me forcing some poor guy to come home with me at the end of the night for a platonic sleepover. In retrospect this most closely resembles a hostage situation. Throughout the night I recall telling him how much we had in common, purely on the basis that we both have long eyelashes, and repetitively hugging him and exclaiming how excited I was to be friends...I haven't drunk tequila in awhile, I don't know what else to say. I then proceeded to bring him home to my apartment where I made him watch christmas specials while I cooked breakfast sausages, before tucking him in with a pink fleece sheep-print blanket, and even took his shoes off for him (so as to prevent him from being able to leave. Kidding, although it's not completely out of the question.) Like I said, things got weird and this is not something I'm proud of. At least when I went upstairs to change into sweats he got to make out with my roommate for a bit.

As a sidenote, while cooking I spilled a bottle of soyaki on the carpet in the kitchen, and anxious that my roommates would be less than enthused by the massive stain, had no choice but to hide the carpet. Turns out I hid it very well, as I could not remember where my hiding place was for the life of me, until I left home this afternoon to go to the supermarket and found it rolled up and shoved in a snowbank. Pure gold.

Heading home for the holidays in two days, could not be more excited.. 6 days until Christmas and 12 until my birthday! My wish list definitely includes some wild shoes, and not sure if I can pull off leather pants, but I'm really feeling leather shorts..
Don't want to get my heart set on anything now that there's a good chance I'll just be getting coal!
xxxxxx bad g

images via oracle fox and knight cat

weight a minute.

Birth control and the holiday season have me gaining weight in the manner of Tim Allen in The Santa Claus II.

The thing about going home for the holidays when you're in college is that your friends and family, and the lady who works behind the counter at the gas station in your town, haven't seen you in months, so any weight gain or loss is far more apparent to them than it is to you. And they will judge you.

Have you ever noticed that the people who go baking crazy around the holiday somehow manage to end up eating the least? They excitedly clammer away in the kitchen for hours before placing the entire finished product conveniently right within your reach, to ensure that you won't even have the opportunity to burn the extra calories by standing up and walking over to get one. And then they walk away, selflessly, the very antithesis of the "The Little Red Hen" parable. When you tell them to eat some of their own god damn food, they give you a self depreciating comment about how much of the frosting or batter they licked off the spoon. Well if you are a person of impeccable manners and upbringing such as I, you will eat the majority of their baked delights, and promptly text your boyfriend something hilarious to subconsciously remind him that he likes you for your personality and not your figure, and pray to the ye gods that the weight settles in someplace discreet.

Prepubescent bodies are wasted on the under 13 age group who don't know the value of having a body that resembles an orange on a toothpick.

As a side note- the best weight related advice I ever got was from a girl who told me that although she wasn't at her skinniest, she had been having the time of her life and had put on "happy pounds." I immediately took to this, preached it and lived it, throwing my health consciousness to the wind and indulging whenever I deemed it worthwhile.

Then the bitch lost about 20 pounds.

Right on cue my roommate just put a plate in front of me. To not accept would be rude.

xxxxxxxxxxx G

images via oracle fox.

starting somewhere.

In the past few months I have become certifiably and chronically unlucky. It's pretty much indisputable.

A seriously misfortunate combination of this week's unfashionably cold weather and exams has brought out some of my less than runway worthy clothing. Envision Ralphie in a Christmas Story, and you're not far off base. I'm tempted to blame the weatherman, but as I neither have a TV or habitually check the weather this seems unfair, thus I can only blame myself, furthering my slow but sure spiral into shame and self loathing. I left the house this afternoon for the first time all day, planning on discreetly running to campus to sell back some of my textbooks. What was I wearing? Red sweats tucked into Uggs, not one but two sweatshirts (the outermost being blue and white striped), a red patagonia on top, and a blue wool hat with a giant pom-pom. A patriotic Michelin Man, if you will. Hardly able to bend my arms, I was striding to campus while on the phone with a friend from home, a great defense mechanism when walking through acquaintance danger zones. Again, seeing anyone I knew was not part of the game plan. Months ago I went on two dates with a boy from the med school at my university. On the first date, I woke up in his apartment and attempted to make a hasty exit. Upon catching me on my way out I told him I had "restless leg syndrome." For some inexplicable reason he took me out a second time. This time while he was at the bar getting us drinks, I told him I was going to the bathroom and promptly left the bar. Circumstantially he deserved both of my disappearing acts, but in retrospect these events were horrible for my karma. Although he only lives three blocks away from me I haven't seen or heard from him since because luckily med students rarely surface from their books. While pushing my way through traffic outside the metro entrance and excitedly talking about my New Years Eve plans on the phone with my friend, I saw someone stop in my peripheral. "Nice winter apparel, Houdini," he said. I turned in horror. That was a mistake on account of A)I was not wearing makeup and B)have stress acne from all of these exams and C) had not brushed my hair in at least last two days. I attempted to give him a quick hug, yet unable to bend my arms due to my plethora of layers, it more closely resembled a chest bump, and mouthed "I can't talk, got to run!," darting off in all of my splendor.

Minutes later received following BBM: "I don't remember you being so fashionable."

Christ on a crutch.

Digging LF's latest spread..

But a little similar to the one Wildfox put out a few weeks ago? (left) Since it's the holiday season we'll let it slide, in the spirit of letting them eat all the cake they like. The Mary Antoinette do's remind me I have a hair appointment on Wednesday.. tempted to go ultra blonde, but it can be tricky with paler skin in the winter, so we'll see what they think at the salon. Applying for jobs and thinking up last minute christmas gifts now! Get your christmas lists in, the roads to the North Pole are getting treacherous. xxxxx

images from fashionlane.