About Me

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Two five-ten blondes fighting against the stereotype to find love, success, and a way to pay the rent. *** We're passionate about our seriously stressful careers in the apex of the luxury fashion world. (No, it's not like the Devil Wears Prada- our Devils only wear custom and pay for their anonymity.) *** We're on the search for the elusive 'great' guy (who must be intimidated because we can't find him anywhere). Being 5'10" and blonde is a double-edged sword. Our stories are fucking ridiculous. *** Fortunately and unfortunately for us, we share the same story as millions of women who have been violated: we are determined to make a difference in the lives of women who have seen too much. *** WELCOME TO OUR WORLD.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Man vs. Ego

"I am a nobleman. I am chivalrous. I believe chivalry is not dead..." -Charlie Sheen

I would just like to quote the caption to the photo above: "Charlie Sheen has headed off on a tropical vacation with his ex-wife Brooke Mueller, adult film star Bree Olson and 'nanny' Natalie Kenly."



Today I recieved a lovely package in the mail from Jordan at Ramshackle Glam ... the Cor Silver Soap and Cor Silver Eye Cream! Plus, a beautiful handscripted note from the woman herself. I'm so thrilled to try this product - I've had troubled skin for years (and The Roommate from Hell situation made it truly horrifying for months on end: I honestly cancelled plans because of my skin. Really.)

I'll report back on the results!


Saturday, February 26, 2011

Toothbrush Terror

I went on a lovely first date on Tuesday with a guy from Match that I had blown off for at least a month. I decided to give him a chance once the craziness from Fashion Week subsided. We made arrangements to have him pick me up a few blocks from my apartment. My eyes lit up when he stepped out of the cab to open the door for me and greet me with a kiss. He was much cuter in person and did not lie about his height! He is tall, built, dark hair, and light baby blue eyes. I was really happy and comfortable around him, which is not usual for me on a first date.

When we arrived at Lupa, he opened the door and took my coat. He won me over with the sentence "would you like to start off with a glass of prosecco?" I have not had a man do this since I was in the South of France, other than my bartender friends at Rose Bar. I felt like Renee Zellweger in Jerry MaGuire "You had me at hello". We drank a giant glass of the most amazing sparkling Rose, followed by a delicious bottle of German wine. We somehow started talking about abortion over beets with pistachio sauce and roasted brussel sprouts. We reached a lighter conversation by the time the main coarse arrived. I ordered a butternut squash pasta dish that melted in my mouth like butter. He begged me to share some chocolate dessert, but I did not want to tarnish my love affair with the wine.

Just before the check, he moved his chair closer to me and touched my lower back. It was like some mating dance to let me know he was really interested. He asked me out for another day that week. He helped me with my coat, opened the door, and walked me to hail a cab. He had a really early business meeting the next day, so we would part on Houston. I leaned into him to block the frigid wind, which he took as a sign to kiss me. We ended up kissing for what felt like 10 minutes, letting many cabs pass us by. Finally, one just stopped behind us anyway so I decided to get in. He opened the door, leaned in, and kissed me goodnight. It was the perfect first date.

He called me and text me throughout the next day and asked me out that night. I had plans, but he tried to see me before or after. That didn't happen, but I thought he was sweet to ask. We made vague plans for the next night. I ended up getting drinks with a couple of coworkers, then made my way to his place around 10pm. When I first arrived he was still in his suit from work and walked out brushing his teeth? I was caught of guard by this thinking he is a little too comfortable to do that in front of me? He walked over, kissed me, and held my hand. He had set up a vodka and scotch tasting, that we had talked about on our first date. We were going to go out, but ended up making out on his couch. It started to get hot and heavy, when he led me into his bedroom. I gave in, despite feeling a little slutty, and it was great. He asked me to stay and held me all night. The cuddling was the best I have had. We could sleep face to face and not get annoyed by each other's breathing. We woke up slowly and he made the move to have sex again. We ended up in a new position that I want to add to the usual roster. He suggested taking the day off from work and just staying in bed, but I was not ready for that. I jumped in the shower, where he opened the door to watch me and shave. When I got out, grabbed me and kissed me. I was starting to feel like we had been in this relationship for awhile. Why were we both so comfortable with each other?

I made his bed and cleaned a few things off of his floor. I don't know why, as this is too domestic for me and for a casual encounter. I was sitting on his couch combing my hair, when he asked me if I wanted a toothbrush. I said yes, if he happened to have an extra one. He opened it and handed it to me.
"Thank you for letting me steal your toothbrush." I said
His reply started a massive wave of anxiety.
"Steal? You can take it with you if you want, but I think you should leave it here to use when you come over."
Isn't this the classic 80's movie line to signal a serious relationship? I didn't know what to say, so I just gave him a quick hug. "Next time you can bring a few things over and leave them here." he said with a smile
I did a 180 and walked into the bathroom. He followed me and hugged me from behind as he watched me in the mirror.
"Are you going to watch me brush my teeth?" I snapped
He laughed and walked out.

I finished brushing and stuck it in one of the four toothbrush holders. I took a step back and looked at it as if I was admiring a Picasso. I couldn't make sense of it. All I could think of was losing my freedom and newly found fuck buddy. Could I not give up wild sex, flirting, and late nights out for an amazing stable man? I walked out of the bathroom and collected my things. He stood in front of me smiling sweetly, as if he was looking at his girlfriend. I knew I was really attracted to him, but then started to pick him apart. I was looking for any excuse to not end up using that toothbrush again, but nothing came to mind. I would stop myself from saying anything that wasn't safe and sweet.

It was raining so he offered me an umbrella and directions to the subway. He kissed me and said he would call me later. I felt like I was in a Leave It To Beaver episode. I do not have coping skills for normalcy in a relationship! This is what I have wanted, so I cannot run away from it. Is he right for me? I don't know, but I need to at least give it some time.


Friday, February 25, 2011

GaGa for Gucci

I am totally drooling over the peacock colored collection from Gucci. The teal furs and raspberry gowns are stunning. The models are styled to the T and I am so happy to see the dark lips return to the runway!


Que c'est que preferais?

For my European jaunt this summer avec le boyfriend

Note to self: Brush up on French.



My summer inspiration

Time to work & work it out!

Photo from The Daily Mail

Parents Shouldn't Text

Just stumbled onto this site today. Happy Friday!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I Shall Be Released....Part 2

I am pleased to announce my 2pm walk of shame (see post "I Shall Be Released") turned into the perfect "fuck buddy".

I skipped out early....again on my musical friend....to show up for a hot night of sex just after midnight. I was two bottles of wine deep, when I made up some lame excuse and hopped into a cab. I had this elaborate sexy plan, but was running late and decided to save it for next time.

When I arrived, he was drinking a beer and watching a movie. He politely offered me a drink and led me to the couch. This was our first interaction since our initial sexcapades so there was an unspoken shyness. I decided to break the tension by straddling him and began kissing him. He picked me up, set me down, and led me backwards while we undressed each other. By the time he stopped kissing me, I found myself pinned up against a large desk. He cleared it in one swift motion (just like the movies), draped me across the top, pulled me closer to the edge, and the rest didn't stop until we both climaxed for the fourth time.

It is sex without boundaries, loud, dirty, aggressive, imaginative, etc. He is so complimentary and sweet in between that it takes the edge off of feeling any regret. He also ALWAYS waits until I climax before he allows his body to. I have never had a pure fuck buddy before, but it is perfect in New York. I have turned my lemons into lemonade, but saving all of the built up emotions from my life in the city and turn it into pleasure in a long night of passion. We average about 5 times within a 10 hour period, so we both must use each other for the same release.

Maybe you really can have sex without strings attached?


A Good Day

My friend Laura, super-classy gal that she is, sent me these gorgeous purple roses from Vera Wang to celebrate my acceptance into Columbia grad school!
(I think my office assumes I'm a lesbian now though.)

Hipster Princess

Today on NY Mag, I saw this:

It's the Disney princesses (& princes) reimagined as hipsters. So freaking amusing. I particularly love Belle's take on hairy-chested men.

Find more here

To get you over the Wednesday hump, enjoy!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Le Scandale

A while ago, I went out on a date with a tall, handsome rower (broad shoulders, hello!) He brought me a CD of music I had admired when we met, which was an unexpected sweet touch. After six hours of banter, a few bites of food and a few too many shots of tequila, he invited me back to his place. I said yes...I was feeling reckless. And he was really tall. And I had a lot of tequila.

He put on the CD and we made no pretenses about watching a movie. I climbed onto his bed and waited for him to make a move. I just wanted to have fun. Finally he started to undress me, and as I pulled my sweaterdress over my head I felt the seam split in the side. I threw it on the floor in a tidy pile with the rest of my clothes (the better to make a swift exit, my dear) and he started to kiss me, lower & lower. He went down on me for like 45 minutes, to the rhythm of the songs that were playing. It was nothing less than totally awesome. It had been so long since I’d had that kind of attention (for some reason, it’s kind of a rare find, which strikes me as unfair considering the number of men who expect head). I totally relaxed and enjoyed it, guilt-free. That was also a great feeling. When he finished he asked if he should get a condom. I declined, saying I wasn’t ready yet. After I reciprocated (I have manners, after all!) we fell asleep.

I tossed and turned most of the night – I hate sleeping in a new bed and I just wanted the experience to be over already. To me, even though he was tall and charming and smart and great in bed there was something missing. We had moved too fast and taken too much time between date 1 and date 2. I had lost interest, without even meaning to – he was too much & too little at the same time.

When the sun came I got up and donned my layers. Halfway through the process, he rolled over and said, “You know, you can use our shower – we have those facilities.” I half turned my head and lied, “We have showers at work, in the gym area” and bolted. I could feel the draft in the side of my dress- it had split near the ribcage- as I trekked to the subway.

I took what can only be called a whore’s bath in our office bathroom (sans shower, obvi) and attempted to fix the rip with bobby pins. Thank god I keep an arsenal of beauty products at my office. I sat down at my desk to begin the day feeling dirtier than ever, in more ways than one. I had a date right after work that night with no time to go home and change. I covered the bobby pins with my fur vest and hoped he wouldn’t be able to sense my sexploit.

When I finally got home that night, after hours of being charming and effervescent...I felt lost. I took the ruined dress off and looked at myself in the mirror. And then, the phone rang. It was Jason, asking me to be exclusive. It couldn’t have come at a better time.

I need someone to save me from myself.


Monday, February 21, 2011


There comes a time when you are too burnt out to scream, fight, cry...anything. I could not be more over this person who CONTINUES to harass me with texts and phone calls. I have blogged about him many times now. It cannot be a coincidence that I ran into a friend of his on Saturday night, and after two weeks of silence he returns tonight.

I was having a great night dancing with friends at Lavo when this girl climbs across tables and grabs my arm. She demanded to know why I declined her friend request on Facebook. I have to say, I am hearing more shit about not doing something on Facebook to the point I want to go off of the site all together. Back to the point....

I told her I want nothing to do with her friend, who would use any means necessary to track me, especially Facebook. She suddenly looked wounded and gave me attitude. Then she snapped, "wow, I'm sorry to hear that. Were you like his girlfriend?" I said "basically" and to that she said "He has been dating the same girl for the past seven years. She is a pretty petite brunette who does PR for Thankoon."

Now, under usual circumstances I would fly into a rage, but this asshole has put me through too much for me to care. I stepped off of the booth into my circle of friends and asked for vodka, straight up. I drank two glasses like water while furiously texting Scorpio and then was ok...well...more like wasted. I found myself standing in the arms of an ex-fling wanting to forget this man ever existed. I quickly realized we were both wasted and had failed once before, so I walked myself outside to a cab.

Get the hint WOLF! You are starting to give even a wild beast a bad name.


Saturday, February 19, 2011

Mr. Ford

I just read this article in Interview Magazine between John Currin and Tom Ford. Mr. Ford is a brilliant man and apparently a brilliant tease!

Tom was telling a story about how he was talking to a reporter on day about male nudity vs. female nudity....

Ford: "I explained how when I come home I actually take off all my clothes, and I wear no clothes until I leave. I eat naked. I do everything completely naked. " He said "Fine we have to do it."

Currin: " How old was the interviewer?"

Ford: "Oh, 55 or 56. He was in very good shape. Anyway, we did the interview. The interviewer was straight, and I made it a point to desexualize the interview even though I was sitting with my legs wide open, completely naked. At the end of the interview, I put on a dressing gown and he put on his clothes, and I sat next to him on the sofa and said "was that sexual?"

He said "Absolutely not."

And I said, "that's because I didn't make it sexual. Sexuality is in the eyes, it's an expression, it's in a look." Then, all of a sudden, I looked at him in a very different way, and it made him very nervous."

Watch out boys...Mr. Ford is my new inspiration ;)


Friday, February 18, 2011

Monochrome Anthracite & Fox Fur Friday

I was totally inspired by the Michael Kors runway. I'm loving the return to ladylike glamour & I particularly enjoyed the monochrome. I rummaged around in my closet today and managed to do a remix - complete with fox fur.

Fox Fur Jacket: Oscar de la Renta
Mock turtleneck with diamonte detail: Nina Ricci
Bandage pencil skirt: Herve Leger
Strappy heels: Dolce Vita
Armour ring: BCBG

I'm totally doing the high/low thing in reverse (cheap shoes, expensive clothes). Walking in the park with Jason after work & had to dress the part... it's a warm, lovely day.

Happy Friday, xoxo


Absolut Friends

I went out with my Swedish friend last night, who happens to be a rep for Absolut Vodka... which means it's always an insane time. The last time I was out with her, I slept in and was two hours late to work. She's so much fun.

We got to talking about the differences in dating culture between Swedes and Americans. In Sweden, you go home with someone and then decide if you should see each other again. If you go out again, it's assumed you're exclusive. There's never really a discussion about it. There's no dating-multiple-people thing; although I do have some girlfriends that are the same way: one person at a time. I said to my friend, "But then how do you know what type of person he is? Isn't that just setting yourself up to get really hurt?" She looked at me, and laughed. I knew about her last breakup with a high profile club promoter friend of mine (the way she & I became friends). "YES! Of course!"
To each their own.


Thursday, February 17, 2011

My Thoughts & Prayers

I have been sheltered from the outside world in my fashion bubble for the past 2 weeks. Over the past two days, I started to hear the name Lara Logan, but didn't pay any attention. Today, I was horrified after reading her story. For those of you who have not heard, Lara Logan is the CBS News Chief Foreign Correspondent who was attacked by a mob in Egypt. The picture above is especially disturbing as it was taken moments before the attack. I have copied the statement released by CBS.

"On Friday, Feb. 11, the day Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak stepped down, CBS chief foreign correspondent Lara Logan was covering the jubilation in Tahrir Square for a "60 Minutes" story when she and her team and their security were surrounded by a dangerous element amidst the celebration. It was a mob of more than 200 people whipped into frenzy.
In the crush of the mob, she was separated from her crew. She was surrounded and suffered a brutal and sustained sexual assault and beating before being saved by a group of women and an estimated 20 Egyptian soldiers. She reconnected with the CBS team, returned to her hotel and returned to the United States on the first flight the next morning. She is currently home recovering."

The terror that she must have experienced is beyond anything I even want to imagine. This makes Scorpio and I think of the awful training video SAVI made us watch of a gang rape. The reality of this situation is disgusting and sadly many other women share her experience. The downside for Lara is that her pain in a private moment is being broadcast all over the world. We can all learn something from Lara and I pray that she recovers and gains strength in the spotlight. My thoughts have been with her and her family all day and will continue to be with all women who live through their own experiences.


Roommate from Hell

When my old roommate moved in with her boyfriend this summer, I listed the room on Craigslist. I’d had great experiences with Craigslist before – some previous roommates had even become great friends of mine – so I didn’t hesitate. I had about 15 people come to view the place in 15 days, and all of them hesitated. I was asking quite a bit, and the space was small and intimate, much better for two people who already knew each other. I grew a bit desperate as the days narrowed, and even thought of lowering the rent, but then she found me.

She was overly excited about the apartment – just 22 and moving from Boston. She bought me a glass of wine and talked about how this would be just like the Friends apartment. I should’ve known then. Instead, desperation and fear clouding my judgement, I welcomed her in. She said she smoked but would keep it on our patio; I set up a little smoking area for her out there. She then asked if she could stay in the place for a weekend before she officially moved in. When she left at the end of the weekend, I saw my first mouse. Walking into the room she had inhabited for only three days, I saw that a magazine had become stuck to the floor because of her Chinese food sweet & sour sauce leaking... on the floor... where the bag of food STILL sat. I cleaned up and called the exterminator. I was a little annoyed but figured I could keep her messiness in control, as I don’t mind cleaning and had experience with some messy roommates in the past. I thought of the money and resolved to stay positive.

She moved in on a Wednesday, and called me while I was at the office. Apparently, even though she’d been there a weekend, she didn’t take measurements or even think of how her things would fit in the place. Her couch and furniture were HUGE. I had to run home in the middle of the day to meet her and the movers and try to figure out how to fit her things. Only half of her couch would fit (I had sold mine since she promised hers would fit), and she suggested that she take a chainsaw to the other half and throw the chunks out the window since it wouldn’t go back out the door. I looked at her in horror. Buzz-sawed pieces of couch flying about my place?! I was glad I had come home. I convinced the movers to take the other half of the couch and return it to her storage unit.

Still, I tried to stay positive. She said that she needed my help moving her things in and getting organized. I’d never seen one person with so many things before, but I’m great at organizing and so together we went through her things and started to organize. Little did I realize it was a Sisyphean endeavor as she had a habit of making manic purchases. At one point we had 30 bags of gummy bears, a popsicle maker, two blenders, and six lamps. My entire apartment became clogged with her things. It was as if she was the Tazmanian Devil; every time I came home things of hers were scattered about the apartment in the craziest places: one shoe in the middle of the floor, a sock on top of the fridge, pens and hairclips everywhere. I did my best to corral her things and re-explained my two rules: keep the common areas clean, and no food in your bedroom (after all, the kitchen was three steps away). I really hate mice, naturally.

Then I started to notice large clumps of hair occupying the bathroom and drain. I realized they were her hair extensions, that she had put in every few weeks to cover her balding head. She was losing her hair. These extensions couldn’t hold onto her fine hair and so the fell...everywhere. I tried to contain my revulsion.

She spent an insane amount of money on the most ridiculous crap that took over our entire place (even though I gave her extra storage and even moved some of my things into storage), she was shedding and nastily dirty (I had to clean at least twice a week), and she continued to keep a huge amount of food in her room, including a stick of butter that had melted, candy bars, and open loaves of bread. She drank a ton of wine (I came home one day at noon to find she had already started drinking), claimed to ‘work from home’, and smoked in her room (she used one of my glasses to keep her hundreds of butts in). She was a chronic over-sharer (upon meeting a girl friend of mine for the first time, before even introducing herself, she lifted up her shirt and showed her a bruise on her breast that she had sustained from a rather rough sex session).

Finally, after four weeks that felt like a YEAR, I told her perhaps she might want to relocate to a place that would be better suited for her things. I even found her an apartment that was close by and much bigger for only $100 more/month. She did NOT take this well. What happened over the next two weeks can only be described as a World War. It took years off my life and at least six months for me to fully recover: I suffered horrible stress-related breakouts unlike anything I had ever had until just recently.

The problem with New York is that it’s a renter’s town. This means, if someone has occupied your apartment for 30 days, they cannot be evicted (even if they’re not on the lease!) Of course, I didn’t learn this until day 31. She refused to leave and refused to pay rent – and there was nothing I could do. Over the coming weeks she became increasingly insane. There is no other word for it. She had her father harassing me via email – accusing me of a number of things, like stealing her medication from the mailbox (I called UPS, got the tracking number, called the pharmacy that had mailed it, and got proof that she had signed for the package herself). She accused me of stealing a lockbox containing some mystery contents, she told me she had passed the New York state realtors exam, yet knew shockingly little about her rights (including, thank god, that she had the right to stay forever without paying, which I did NOT tell her). She sent me horribly mean texts day and night telling me she was going to sue me, telling me I was a crazy person, and a bunch of other mean things I’ve since – thankfully – forgotten. She would bang on my door in the middle of the night and yell things at me. She would take my food and throw it out, she took every single one of the forks and cups in the apartment. Crazy stuff. I ended up moving everything I still owned into my now locked bedroom. I realized I feared coming home and started spending the night at friends’ places. Believe me, the irony was not lost on me that I was the one paying rent and she was the one living there. The apartment became almost impossible to walk into, she moved a lot of her things into the living room so that it was completely unusable, and there were boxes scattered all over the main room.

She bought 16 pay-per-view movies in 6 minutes, so I changed the internet password. She completely flipped out and started throwing things and screaming so I called the police. While the police were at my apartment I asked them if it was OK for me to take my cable box back from her room as she was refusing to pay. They said yes, and watched me do it. I cannot describe how horrifying her room was to step into... her clothes and garbage covered the entire floor and bed, it was at least six inches high. It smelled horrible and there were used condoms everywhere. I took the cable box and locked it in my room, and called the cable company to change the password and warn them that I was the only one they should speak with. Luckily, the cable woman was totally sympathetic; apparently her daughter had an insane roommate as well, so she was super nice to me.

As the week dragged on, I met with lawyers, police officers, and the courts. Nothing could be done unless I said she had threatened physical violence. I looked through all the texts she had sent me over the weeks, none of which I had responded to. While she came close, she never expressly threatened me. The police officer I was talking to kept on saying, “All you have to do is tell me she threatened you, and we will remove her.” I thought about all that I had been through, how exhausted I was, how pissed off I was that this stranger had completely overtaken my life, and I was seriously tempted. But, I didn’t want to be like her – a liar. And so I said no, and began the walk back to my apartment.

When I turned the key that night, I saw that she had finally moved out. All that was left was a huge pile of garbage and food, a hole in the living room door, and a smoke-filled room. I considered myself lucky, and began the process of cleaning up after her – for the last time.


Hello, Lover

This season, I want to be her

Michael Kors image, by WWD. Aries will have backstage photos!


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

It's Showtime

Michael Kors celebrated his 30th Anniversary with some of his updated classics in an elegant palette for all women! He actually may convince me to wear real fur with his cropped fox jackets.

I will let you check out the collection on style.com or watch the entire show on michaelkors.com. Here are some behind the scenes shots for your enjoyment ;-)

Backstage was not even funny......

I felt like a salmon trying to swim upstream while celebs and photogs were the water rushing down at me. The floor was an organized chaos, which my quick Blackberry shots show well.


Herve Leger

Herve Leger is our most well known, high profile brand. We were featured in Mercedes Benz fashion week, images above

Runway images above show that we're evolving as a brand, adding in knitwear, seperates, and lots of hardware. It's definitely a more defined girl. When watching the show, though, I couldn't help but be distracted by the incredibly thin models. For a brand like Herve, which is for the confident girl with a banging body and killer curves, it felt wrong to have the flat chested, thin hipped models trying to strutt in our stuff. Lubov is partial to the tall Russian or Swedish blondes, and I think it works beautifully for Max Azria, and well enough for BCBG MAX AZRIA, but for Herve, we need someone like Lara Stone, and some dark haired black or Puerto Rican girls... someone who can rock it.

Celebs love Herve Leger. For an analysis on who's doing it well and who looks overdone, check out StyleBakery

*runway images by WWD


The Row

And of course, I love the gothic glamour. Though it's been done before, I've never seen it with this kind of weight, tailoring, and complexity. Brava, Olsons.

*images by WWD