Yes, I know we’re a fashion and beauty site, but we also like you. So stop f’ing shopping. More
That’s it. I’m out. I’m done. No more defending Lindsay Lohan for me! I have long held out on wanting to give the celebrity equivalent of Fanta another try and the benefit of the doubt, but she really is just about as sad as the rest of sensible society has been saying for ages. More
A compilation of the first chapter of every book where the narrator described how glamorous his or her parents looked when they used to get dress up and go out for the night.
A compilation of the first paragraph of every novel that opens with the murder of the most popular girl in school.
A compilation of every time a woman has talked about how handsome her grandfather looked in those old pictures and isn’t it a shame how nobody dances, really dances like that anymore? More
Perhaps you received too many Apple products. Perhaps you received an insufficient number of Apple products and risk being drummed out of the local chapter of your Apple product society. Perhaps the spirit of Steve Jobs’ recently impounded yacht will haunt your dreams tonight; that is a matter for your conscience.
Perhaps everyone you know bought you a candle. If you are a survivalist; all to the good. Pack them in your survivin’ shelter and wait for time to prove you right. If you are not a survivalist, find a way to make peace with the fact that no one really knows you; no one even bothered to pretend to know you. More
And gifts for everyone! More
Did you know the average American spends more than 30% of his or her adult waking life inside of a Trader Joe’s? Sooner or later, every kind of person will wind up wandering the slightly-too-narrow aisles and asking “Yo, is this “ethnic” label variation on Trader Joe racially problematic?” (The answer is often yes!) More
The mean reds are nothing to joke about, so let’s try to nip them in the bud, shall we? At least for the sake of the Holly Golightly in us all. More
The truth hurts, darling; so you won’t feel a thing. More
Cyber Monday is that one day a year where all the little lies you’ve been telling your boss are finally used two fold, and you realize that although your job technically involves other responsiblities, you, after so many years being under the thumb of a tyrant, fully understanding that fuck, yeah, you’re a goddamn master at pulling the wool over your boss’ eyes. More
Walking around the various shopping centers during the holidays is not fun: they blast Kenny G’s Christmas carol covers for hours on end, every check-out has an insane line of loud complainers on cell phones and there are always children with tears streaming down their faces. Do you ever get so stressed out that you wind up buying yourself a present? More
I don’t know about you, but I spend way too much time looking at old high school friends’ updates on Facebook and sifting through work emails. Somewhere in the time between my first cup of coffee and the 4pm rush, I’ve wasted my precious internet moments on meaningless crap. Again. More
As part of his ongoing efforts to turn Kim Kardashian into his ideal, high fashion, hip-hop Stepford wife, Kanye West made her excise many of the more “ghetto” items from her closet. (His word, not mine.) And now, lucky us, she’s put said items up for sale on Ebay! While most people might balk at the chance to pay $1,000 for something deemed too trashy for Kim Kardashian, think of it as your good deed for the day. After all, she gives a whopping 10% of the proceeds to charity. Here are a few of my favorite items from Kim’s makeover fire sale. More
By which I mean conservatively dressed women, not female republicans. Which is a shame, because Sarah Palin could probably benefit from reading a fashion site or two. More
So now that I’ve gotten all high-and-mighty about maturity and taking responsibility for your own actions, I’d like to continue the grown-up discussion with a different subject. Back-to-school shopping.
Why would grown-ups talk about back-to-school shopping? You might be asking. Unless we’re talking about the grown-ups’ school-aged children. But we’re not. We’re talking about me. More