Category: writing about writing

Summer is almost here and I’m not ready

One of the downsides of my job as a fashion copywriter is that I’m forced to constantly look at magazines, blogs and do comparison shopping all in the name of research. I know. The horror. But it IS a problem, because then I see every new thing that comes out on the market and 100% of the time it is something that I must have, like yesterday. Did I also mention that I use shopping as therapy and I relate all too well to the cringe-worthy protagonist in Confessions of a Shopaholic?  

All that to say that summer is one of my three favorite seasons and it’s coming up fast. And I am woefully low on:

A CUTE ONE-PIECE SWIM SUIT THAT FITS MY WEIRD GOURD-SHAPED BODY

When you’re shaped like a beloved Thanksgiving-themed decorative fruit, shopping is difficult enough without throwing in “Oh hey, one-pieces are back from the Baywatch-shaped hole they’ve been hiding in for the past 20 years.” How did this happen? Why are they back? And how can I get one immediately? IF I can find one that will fit my long skinny upper body and my bulbous lower body, that is.

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NSFW: Behold, me in all my naked glory.

 

BODY JEWELRY THAT I CAN ROCK LILITH FAIR-STYLE

Shut up. Body jewelry is back and you’re just going to have to deal with it, society. I remember back in the day, I owned not one, but several belly bracelets. And just because that was twenty years ago when I was dreamily listening to Sarah McLaughlin while drinking Zima in my dorm room does not mean I can’t adorn my still-pretty-alright body with some sparkle. It’s not like I’m some 41-year old woman who still wears crop tops. Oh wait…

MATCHING CROP TOP AND SKIRT SET BECAUSE PINTEREST

Except I’m exactly the kind of 41-year old woman who wears crop tops! And why not? Do I force myself to go to the gym 4 days a week only to not wear crop tops, like some kind of not-crop-top-wearing idiot? Summer was made for crop tops and I love that they are still a thing. Especially since now they have matching crop top-and-skirt sets all over Pinterest that are freaking adorable and I need all of them. But only if I can wear it surrounded by flowers on a cobblestone street with messy yet perfectly done hair while drinking out of a pineapple. Obviously.

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Okay, I made up the pineapple but the rest is SPOT ON. (Photo credit: Pinterest, Chanel Bags & Cigarette Drags) 

FANCY LUGGAGE SO I CAN FEEL BALLER FOR A FEW MINUTES BEFORE THEY SEAT ME IN COACH

I have always been obsessed with luxe luggage and by “always” I mean since I spotted a fabulous Gucci luggage set in a UK Vogue about six years ago. Gliding through the airport in my just-right traveling outfit, with my perfectly matched luggage is almost as good as the vacation itself.

Except my fantasies of airport chic come from the Mad Men era, before 9/11 turned us all into shoeless animals forced into X-ray machines, all while being groped by the airport equivalent of mall security. To add insult to injury, my neatly packed luggage ends up looking like someone searched it using a giant Kitchen Aid mixer. (Note: Just kidding, TSA. You guys are the best!)

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But seriously, I need these ASAP. (Photo credit: Pinterest, Henri Bendel)

 

WHITE JEANS THAT DON’T LOOK LIKE I’M WEARING A KITCHEN TRASH BAG

Why don’t I already have a pair of white jeans? White jeans are quintessential summer. They look so fresh and breezy, yet when I squeeze myself into a pair, one or both of the following things happen:

  1. As with most denim, they fit super-snug in the butt and thighs, yet gap in the waistband. (See above, re: gourd-shaped body.)
  2. They are basically made of white tissue paper and show literally every bump, even ones I didn’t know were there. Oh, I got razor burn this morning? Good to know. Thanks, white devil.

GIRD YOUR LOINS, CREDIT CARD. IT’S ABOUT TO GET WEIRD.

Sadly, this is only a small part of my list but I didn’t want to overburden you all with too many fabulous things. Because then you’d know what it’s like to be in my head and I wouldn’t do that to you.

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You know what else I need? SLIDES. They’re flip-flop’s fancy out-of-town cousin! (Photo credit: Urban Outfitters Striped Bow Pool Slide, $24)

P.S. Let me know in the comments what lovely things are on your summer must-have list! I promise I won’t steal your ideas.

P.P.S I will totally steal your ideas.

 

 

The Holiday of Existential Crises

New Year’s is annoying.

Not for the usual reasons: New Year’s Eve with its accompanying inflated cover charges, the strange urge to wear glitter, and those annoying “restricted menus” restaurants always throw at you. No, I don’t want garlic herb chicken with steamed vegetables, Chad. I know you have stuff to make cheeseburgers back there.

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Don’t make me hurt you, Chad.

No, New Year’s is annoying because it makes you think. Holidays shouldn’t make you think. Holidays are supposed to be about drinking too much around  your family just so you can handle the alarming amount of toddler warfare. Holidays are about eating so much sausage that you start speaking German. That’s what the holidays are about.

But New Year’s messes with your head, man. You start questioning your very existence and every choice you’ve ever made. You realize everything’s pretty much the same as last year (and the year before, and the year before that). At least it probably is if you’re a person who is married and in her mid-to-late thirties. Okay, late thirties. OKAY, I’M TURNING 40 IN 7 MONTHS.

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And I’m handling it JUST FINE.

Because when most of your big “life decisions” like kids and marriage are already done and over with, what’s left? Soon the boys will be graduated and on their own. (And by “on their own,”  I mean probably still living with us but not paying rent or doing anything useful around the house).

So once the boys are actually gone, then what are Eric and I to do? Just sit around still being young and super-hot? That gets boring, guys. Trust me.

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So exhausting being us.

Should we buy a cabin in the woods? Not a horror movie cabin where I’d get stabbed in a horribly inventive way, but a pimped-out fancy cabin that has a hot tub and enormous windows that I never have to clean because we’re stupid rich. I’ll learn to make jam and decorate my house so country modern fabulous, Pinterest will explode out of sheer jealousy.

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“I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LIVE FORRRR!” ~ Pinterest

Or should we buy a place in the city? We could live in a cool historical building from the 1800’s but someone else fixed it up right before we moved in so it has brand-new plumbing and a really strong WiFi signal. Plus a sick balcony where we can light candles for sexy times but also has total privacy because you know everyone wants to check us out. We’re young and super-hot, remember?

Maybe we’ll travel and live in a new place every year. One year in NYC. One year in L.A. One year in… where else is there? Those are literally the only two places they ever show in movies and TV.

Anyway, New Year’s sucks. And, for the record,  I knew this before Jennifer Lawrence, because she could be my daughter, almost. Also, these plans of mine sound pretty pricey, so I better get back to writing my book. There’s a lot riding on this thing.

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Yep. This is me.