Because Everyone Really Does Need Something to Put Their Credit Cards in……

……and it’s called a wallet. But everyone owns a wallet (really, do you know anyone who doesn’t?). And this establishment frowns upon what is commonplace and usual!

I was at the mall the other day, pouring myself over lots of fancy clothes that I can’t afford, when I spotted the cutest little credit card holder at Brighton.  Credit card holders are a fad that evolved from cigarette holders (think the 50s’ and 60s’ – anyone who watches the TV show Mad Men knows that people back then smoked to the extent that it’s a wonder everyone from that generation hasn’t died from lung cancer yet). But, when smoking suddenly became less popular due to health reasons, cigarette cases went on a diet and became credit card cases. And while the case is a bit of a throwback from 50 years ago, it manages to add some Victorian-era flair to the accessory with the elegant pattern on its cover.

Credit Card Case – $24 at Brighton

For $24.00, it’s not a steal, but it’s not a rip-off either. I guess that’s the price of being different!


The 2011 VMAs: Just Another Awards Show

Hey, don’t get me wrong – if you like watching the cycle of a performance, an award presentation, and then five minutes of commercials for two and a half hours, you would have loved the VMAs last night. I, however, would like to see more awards and less…other crap. I mean, come on! The show went a good 25 minutes over the scheduled 2 hours, and they didn’t even show all of the awards!

And, while I adored Lady Gaga’s (er, I mean her alter ego Jo Calderone’s) performance of “You and I” with Queen’s Brian May, I could have lived without all the other ones. Not that everyone else who performed wasn’t talented (Adele,Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, Beyonce, Jay Z and Kanye West) because they are. I’m just trying to say that they should have two performances – one to open the show and one to close it, so they can actually, oh, I don’t know……give out awards? 

Speaking of awards…..

While Katy Perry may have taken home 3 Moon Men, including one for “Video of the Year”, Adele was the real winner of the night, nabbing 4 Moon Men for her video “Rolling in the Deep” – and none of these awards were even shown on TV. Other big winners included Lady Gaga, who received 2 Moon Men for “Born This Way” and Justin Bieber, Nicki Menaj, Beyonce, The Foo Fighters, Britney Spears, and Tyler the Creator, who all were awarded one Moon Man each.

(For specifics on the awards, see

The only thing that could be considered really “special” about the whole night was Bruno Mars’ tribute to Amy Winehouse. He sang “Valerie” with his throwback charm (per usual) and won over the hearts of everyone in the crowd. Then everything was back to normal, and Lil Wayne closed the show with a song that was littered with gratuitous swearing. I guess some things never change, right?

Is Adele the new Amy Winehouse?

They say out with the old and in with the new….and the music industry couldn’t have time this exchange any better. As the entire news-watching world knows, Amy Winehouse passed away about a month ago in July. Known for her iconic “bad-girl” look and strong, jazzy voice, Amy Winehouse was not only one of the most talented female musicians in Britain, but also one of the most intriguing.

But that was a month ago, and the world continues to spin. As I had the radio on today, I couldn’t help but hear Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” and think of Amy Winehouse. I mean, when you think about it, they are rather similar.

They both:

-are British

-released their first album before they were 20

-didn’t make in big in the U.S. until their second album

-have powerful, strong voices and a style of unique music that you can’t quite put your finger on

– do something cool with their hair. I mean Amy has the beehive, Adele does that bun thing….okay so maybe this one is a stretch….

Anyway, while Adele isn’t the tattoo-covered addict that Amy was, they definitely share some similarities. It’s interesting that while Amy passed away, Adele seemed to be rising to fame.

And, don’t get me wrong – you can never “replace” Amy with anyone. Not even with someone as talented as Adele. But can Adele pick up Amy’s crown and reign as the British powerhouse voice that Amy once was? Well, there’s always the possibility…..

Fun in a Flash Storm!

Okay, so this post has nothing to do with fashion or art, but rather the art of…making a fool of yourself. If you like posts about people doing stupid and embarrassing things, you are in the right place….

So I’m sitting upstairs, drafting a post, when all of a sudden, I can hear wicked loud rain coming down on the skylights. I know I have windows open in the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom AND upstairs, so I run to the closest window to start closing all of them. I find the first window upstairs, and as I start to close it I can’t help but notice that it is beyond raining cats and dogs. More like a end-of-the-world-God-is-coming torrential downpour.  The rain is also falling at this crazy slant meaning that all this water is coming in the house downstairs! Without  even bothering to lock the window, I scramble down the stairs and to the bathroom.

 The window in the bathroom in high on the wall, so I have to reach upwards to pull it down as rain falls directly in my face like I’m in some type of enormous shower.  I then sprint to the bedroom, where two windows are open and a puddle has already formed beneath them (after, like, only thirty seconds of rain). I don’t see the puddle, and I slip on it like an extreme version of slip-and-slide, and I crash into the window, landing in the puddle. Now that I am officially drenched, I crawl on my knees over to the other window, where the is a second puddle, and close it.

Without bothering to clean up the puddle, an adrenaline-pumped me makes a mad dash for the kitchen, closes those windows (no rain came in them, praise God), and rockets back upstairs to where the last window is. I’m flying towards the last window when I realize that there is this gigantic, ugly bug in between me and the window. I jump over it with an intense battle cry that could rival a barbarian and slam the last window shut.   

So to recap, the house is a watery mess, I probably have a few bruises, and my pants are drenched from that puddle.

Thanks, Hurricane Irene :-p

Lights…Camera…Fashion! The Re-creation of a Dream

My heart stuttered as I clumsily flew through hallways and practically soared down a flight of narrow, poorly lit stairs. Where is he? Where is he? My mind was frenetic. Finally, I throw myself though a swinging door to reach the bar. My eyes scan over the men behind the bar nervously – he wasn’t one of them. My heart fell and landed on my stomach with a thud, and it continued to shudder in panic at its new location. I knew that I had to leave that morning, and I hadn’t told him goodbye yet. I had to tell him goodbye, to see his face one last time.

How many times can you remember a dream that was so vivid that it was practically real? It’s awful, right? Because then you wake up furious or in despair because it wasn’t real life. But how many times can you remember what you were wearing in your dream? I going to try my best to find an outfit that matches exactly what I remember. But back to my dream….

“Do you know where (insert the love of my life’s name here) is?” I ask one of the bartenders.

“No, he hasn’t come to work yet.”

“I need to see him. I need to. Please!” I’m breathless and on the verge of hopeless as a practically beg the guy to help me find him.

“Hmm…he could be here…” he leads me through a dark hallway and I can see the sunlight at the end of the hallway (a light at the end of the tunnel – haha) and we come into what looks like a barn, and then outside. It’s overcast, and we’re walking around in a rather random fashion. All of a sudden, I realize that I had to meet my friends at a certain time before we left.

“What time is it?” I force out of my mouth with anxiety. Whatever time the guy said back, it was way beyond the time I was going to meet my friends and my brain has a conniption. I am so scared that I feel like I want to crawl out my skin. We wander up a set of stairs to another bar and….praise God, there he is. My heart flies off my stomach and into my throat, suffocating me with bittersweet joy. I float over to the bar and just stand there until he notices me.  He turns that perfect face over towards me and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh….I get a chance to say goodbye to you.” he says in that ridiculously charming voice. He pauses and adds “I was going to ask you…” he trails off like he can’t remember what he was going to say. I happily try to assist him.

“To marry me?” I nervously chirp.

“What?” he can’t hear because it’s too loud inside. He leans in towards me, extending his ear near me. He was so outrageously close that I couldn’t help myself. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my face against his cheek as I repeat  “To marry me?” When he hears me, he practically tosses me from him. I sit back down and he looks me in the eye.

“Love (he used to always call me that)…” he trails off for a while and then starts talking again. I can hear his voice, but he isn’t saying words. It’s as if he speaking in another language, and I can’t understand a word he’s saying….and yet I know the gist of it.  He’s telling me it’s a lie. That he never liked me. That he gave me those flowers and blew those kisses at me because he knew that I liked him. But it doesn’t mean anything. He keeps looking at me, trying to gauge what to say based on my reaction, but I bite my dark red lips and stare at my gray stiletto clad feet. I cross my legs in my matching gray short skirt and quiver. I look at him. I look down. I look at him. I look down. While I repeat this, I can hear weird noises in the background….the washing machine. Then I get it: it’s a dream. All of a sudden, I’d rather be heart-broken with an illusion of him in front of me than heart-broken and all alone. But it’s too late – I’m awake.

While I am still moping about over my dream, I also can’t get over the fact that I can remember my outfit distinctly.

It might look a little something like this:

5.5 Inch Louboutins.....

With a skirt from Diane Von Furstenberg. A cute, gray retro pencil skirt – but it was a little shorter than this one. And then this Herringbone blazer from Gucci. Put it all together and you have this chic-businesswoman look.

Sure, the outfit may be cool, but I’d rather my sweet bartender in my grasp. No pair of Louboutins can make you roses out of napkins, no blazer can blow you kisses, and skirts can’t dry tears. Yes, life can be misery, can’t it? He was no figment of my imagination – he was real. Those flowers and drink that you can see when you hover over my Gravatar? Those are from him, and I still have the flowers on display in my room. I miss him more than anything…..wherever you are, darling, volim te ❤

Congrats to my Good Friend…..

I send a virtual bottle of champagne and balloons to my good friend “ohsunshine2011” , who just reached her goal of 1,000 hits on her blog “Such is Life”! She has a lot of cool little stories about everyday life on her blog, from tips on how to save money to some paranormal experiences at her old house.

What are you waiting for? Go check it out at

Why are you still reading this? Click on the link – click on it!

My New Mission For Feet-Breaking High Heels!

I’ve got the power – I can sort through shoes online by designer, color, size, price and lifestyle. Sadly, I can’t sort by the height of the heels on the heel-splitting shoes I’m on an epic quest for. Ok, maybe I know in my heart that once I find said shoes that I will never be able to afford them, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

So, what do I consider feet-breaking? I immediatly reject anything under 5 inches, and the higher the better… basically if the shoes don’t scream “I will rip your feet in half!“, I steer away from them.

Lady Gaga was spotted wearing 22-inch platforms the other day, and I was in awe. Unfortuanetly, no such shoes are to be found on The highest heels I could find were platforms with 6 inch heels by Christian Louboutin. At $895.00, the simple shoes just aren’t worth it. While the shoes are tan (and therefore will go with almost anything), they lack the odd pizazz that I am always searching for- no feathers, no lace, no odd patterns….no WOW factor. *Sigh*


So I guess that means I’ll have to settle for a lower heel with more flair. In this case, I believe that this pair Manolo’s will do the trick. They have a class retro style that stands out from other shoes- and while they don’t have the highest heels in the world, I’m not willing to sacrafice personlity for heel height. Ok, so maybe I can’t buy them because they cost $785.00, but I will surely dream about them tonight, along with Alexander McQueen dresses and Gucci handbags.

Much better!

Check out a fellow blogger’s 8-inch heels at

Previous Older Entries