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Thanks everyone!

You know the scene at the end of Planet Of The Apes when Charleston Heston collapses to the ground, a broken shadow of himself as he gazes at the ruins of the Statue of Liberty? That’s pretty much how I feel right now after Erin Express. (It’s University City St. Patricks Day, part 1 of 3)

But this post is not about my body hating me. Or how awesome Boston Market was earlier today. It’s a thank you for all the kind words about my thesis. I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for everyone’s support. Or for at least not talking shit to my face.

In the spirit of shameless self-promotion you can view the live site here, which contains three of the chapters and an explanation of how they are purely exaggerations rather than an autobiographical view of the world.

If you could please like the page on Facebook I will be forever indebted to you. I’m making infographics dealing with the analytics of the site that will be presented along with the physical book when I deliver my thesis next Tuesday. If any Drexelites want to come, Meghan’s at 3, I’m at 3:30, Aviva’s at 4, and Mike is at 4:30. The awesome line-up was almost purely coincidence.

The following is a hideous and confusing flowchart that was originally intended for the chapter on suburbia, but I was just too burnt out to rework it. I’ll start posting stuff that didn’t make the cut for the book more regularly, if only to make me feel like I wasn’t completely wasting my time.

In a perfect world it should expand when you click on it.

Once again, thank you. And feel free to point out grammatical errors, I misuse commas and semicolons like it’s my job.

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What a wonderful day.

I’m simply brimming with happiness. So utterly content, I celebrated my good mood with cottage cheese and a pale ale.


March means a bevy of things. Only two more weeks left of thesis before I spend a week in Florida and then an entire term of doing whatever the hell I want. (DIY projects I will pass off as homework in sculpture II, loitering in Rittenhouse, actually getting a chance to read and write in pretentious coffeehouses by Rittenhouse, living the dream, etc. etc.)

It’s also my birthday month, and I just received a phone call from Tavern on Broad detailing my free open bar I won for March 31st. Clearly meaning my 22nd birthday (March 29) bat-mitzvah theme has pleased a higher power, and it is through divine intervention I have a cheap but not 18 year old ridden venue. L’chaim.

On top of all this, some of my classes were canceled and I had time to indulge in the newest issue of Matchbook Magazine, complete with an article by my amazingly talented friend Brooke. She gives beauty and make-up advice, and this girl knows exactly what she’s talking about.

I was also finally able to peruse the March Anthropologie and J. Crew catalogs which had been forlornly sitting in my room. All of this was accomplished with the cat on my lap the entire damn time. BEAT MY MORNING, I DARE YOU.

The only downside was having my mayorship of Nesbitt Hall (via foursquare, not some delusion of grandeur) cruelly stolen from me. I shall take it back with swift vengeance.

Two posts ago I went so far as to say that Madewell’s spring collection might have even rivaled her more popular siblings lookbook. With the same fervor I anticipate on reclaiming my mayorship, J. Crew has bitch slapped Madewell right in the face.

(All of these photos were taken offline, there is no way I’m spending time
scanning the catalog)

The conventional striped sweater over the artistically ripped jean shorts…we’ve seen the same thing season after season. However, the additional sparkle and chambray shirt switches things into high gear. Or really makes it as intense as J. Crew can get.
That’s fucking right you can wear this to brunch.

Speaking of intense, I really like how they’re throwing a leather jacket into the mix, perfecting the balance of girly and potentially abrasive/tough. Like yin and yang, or the Sith vs. the republic. Except the light sabers are color coordinated to your chosen outfit.

J. Crew is still partnered up with Sperry, and I’m pretty obsessed with these twill slices of coral heaven. They’re cheery without being completely obnoxious like my patent orange ones. However, in my remaining months on campus I need to leave my mark in some shape or form. What better way to be remembered as, “that complete bitch with the orange shoes.”

And finally, Madewell doesn’t have this guy. J. Crew, I salute you once again.

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In anticipation of porching

Well folks, it’s the end of week eight and reality has finally set in. Those on thesis are sleeping in the labs, or just not sleeping at all. To put my situation more poetically: I’m completely fucked. However, I plan on charging ahead with all the enthusiasm that comes with knowing I’m going to be tan and pants-less in a mere three weeks. Bring on the skin cancer!

In anticipation of spring and committing myself to screenwriting classes while simultaneously blowing off all the other trifles of academia, let me present to you the light at the end of the tunnel.
How ingenious are these violet and mint ice cubes? These cubes will make any otherwise low-grade and cheaply procured drink more classy from start to finish. And isn’t that all we really strive for?

Spring isn’t all about laying out on the Penn lawn and porching. It’s about living off of frozen yogurt and whatever half burnt piece of meat you managed to scrape off the grill. For dessert these cute chocolate and ice cream bowls look manageable enough for even the most inept or inebriated.

Living in the heart of a college campus has it’s ups and downs. The latter being I can hear everything from my closed window overlooking frat row, and the better part being constantly surrounded by cheap liquor. And what’s better than the unholy marriage of beer and vodka? Otherwise known as skippy, this Raspberry Beer Cocktail Recipe looks amazing and could probably even mask the taste of Natty Light.
But why would we want to?

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The injustices of fluorescent lighting

I’m currently sitting in the library because I know if I don’t write my final papers here they’ll be lost to the abyss known as four in the morning. That’s when I suddenly realize I have work other than thesis, and cursing each individual snowflake as it falls to the barren ground.

Although I’m quite fond of libraries, I find the Drexel Hagerty one rather claustrophobic and depressing. Not to mention how the fluorescent lighting makes everyone even less attractive than usual. It also makes me somewhat on edge because as a Caucasian I’m in the vast minority here. Between my mid-winter ghost like palor and bright red corduroys, someone had to notice a few minutes ago when I tripped over myself and fell on the way to the water fountain. Some of these students haven’t left these odd wooden cubicles for days, and could use some food other than the insufferable taco bell they decided to install in the “cafe.” Like lions with an acute interest in electrical engineering, they will hunt down the weakest prey and rip their backpack from their hands in search of triscuits or decent waterproof eyeliner. I’m clearly the clumsiest one in here and have to watch my back.

I tend to go here as little as humanly possible for a clusterfuck of reasons. Although I do have to point out they have a good selection of design books, which makes up for getting kicked out of the UPenn arts library. I’m sure if I went to an Ivy I would also have a warranted sense of entitlement, but we share the same bars you jackasses. Libraries should be held in the same respect.

The book I most recently took out of the library for “funsies” was F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Beautiful And  Damned. It was so much more depressing than The Great Gatsby. Mostly because Fitzgerald focuses on the tediousness of a life completely devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. And then spends a few hundred pages getting his point across with the most degrading of examples. Also knowing he based the irritable protagonist Gloria on his actual wife Zelda made me feel empathetic towards the crazy bitch.

Even though she was a raging alcoholic who threw herself off a balcony for attention when Scott was talking to another woman and ended up living out her last days in an asylum, I’d be lying to myself if I said we all didn’t have “those moments.”

I also plan on printing the gorgeous book cover I posted above, I’ve never seen something evoke such exquisite apathy.

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Golf Clap For Madewell

I’ve always regarded Madewell as J. Crew’s less popular and more introverted sister. The sibling that could be found muffling sobs under the bleachers, as she watched the cheerleaders practice dances she couldn’t perform well enough for try-outs. That girl at prom who got so nervous pinning the boutanniere on her date, she sent him to the hospital with a stab wound. The one who accidentally ate “special” brownies at a party, and spent the next two hours passed out on the back patio and the subsequent pictures showed up in the senior slide show.

However, it seems Madewell has gotten her revenge at last. The spring look book is quite fetching, even on par with J. Crew. They asked noted fashion bloggers to put together statement outfits, and I was happy that one of my favorites cupcakesandcashmere.com was featured. Emily Schuman is one of those effortlessly stylish people whose opinions I trust. On what merit you ask? Mostly because she’s thin and I don’t trust fat people.

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Daniel Radcliffe, will you be my valentine?

Oh Valentines Day. I’d rather not think of it as singles awareness day like some of my more cynical brethren, but as a thinly veiled plot by the Lifetime channel to emasculate the population and drive up ratings if only for a painful 24 hours.

I prefer to partake in the lesser known but more exciting event simply known as February 15th. There is no real significance to the holiday, other than it’s when all the chocolate and candy goes on sale. This is one of my favorite times of the year, only second to The Day After Easter when Cadbury eggs are finally available to all the Jewish children across the land.

What I am excited for is the launch of Anthropologie’s new bridal line BHLDN (pronounced beholden) available for purchase starting February 14th. In my eyes Anthropologie can do no wrong. Its contemporary twist on vintage apparel, accessories and home décor is always spot on, and gives me the motivation to work hard in hopes of one day being able to afford it in perpetuity. Or settle and gold dig. Both work.

They’ve given a sneak peak to some of the big fashion bloggers and from the leaked photos and blurry iphone snaps circulating the internet, the dresses are gorgeous. I posted some of my favorites, I’m really partial to the top one on the left or the one with the huge fucking bow on it. Huge fucking bows are always an A+ in my book.

Wedding style and décor are one of those things that’s always fun to look at and ruthlessly judge. Regardless if you’ve already walked down the aisle, engaged, or celebrating Valentines day by watching your engineering friends throw a blow up doll off a roof in center city because they won a design contest. (America we are your future)

Other recent launches include my favorite sister branch of Anthropologie-Leifsdottir. They just released the first shots of their shoe line and I was blown away by the art direction. The shoes look great too, but I’m really impressed to the way they shot and styled the terrariums. It’s amazing what one can do with a little shrubbery.

In conclusion, whether you’re celebrating Valentines day with lovers, friends, families, or alone and singing along to a drunk version of Sara Bareilles (hits include To hell I ain’t gonna write you a love song, and who made you the king of fucking anything) I wish you all the best.


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Junya Watanabe

I was completely awestruck by these fair isle blazers from Junya Watanabe. It’s the blissful marriage of a well-beloved preppy pattern with a twist even the most sullenly ironic hipster would enjoy. They would look just as great in a casual setting with jeans and boots or for a startlingly trendy look at the office.

The models are just as interesting as the jackets, and fit Junya’s “techno couture” niche. The second model is adorable but what girl wouldn’t love the handlebar moustache on the third? The same type that doesn’t appreciate a monocle. Heartless.
All images via The Sartorialist.

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Pinterest- aesthetic crack

I’ve spoken before of my obsession with tumblr- there is nothing like an unending stream of quotes, fashion, food, and J Crew scans for the win. There’s also a hell of a lot of emo crap clogging it up as well, and some of the people I follow are more hit or miss. The bitter and angry high schoolers apparently have the most time to scour the internet for cool photos, and the juxtaposition of good design and alarmingly violent images are never that far off. It’s not that big of a deal, I just would rather not have my morning oatmeal ruined with pictures of hurt animals. You bastards.

Not the case with pinterest, which is the more discriminating and bitchy version of tumblr. I applied for it about a week ago, and got the green light today. The people posting are predominantly designers, bloggers, artists, ie. people who have a (hopefully) aesthetic eye.

I’ve already spent a good amount of time on the site, which spells disaster for all the work I have left on thesis. My pinterest page is here, and if you want an invite just hit up Danielle or I or simply apply.

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A Line A Day Keeps The Doctor Away

I’m currently in the the middle of The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald and completely engrossed by it. He is the king of making biting reality and horribly vapid people come across as glamorous and poetic. There is passage right around the time when Gloria (the female protaganist, modeled after his own wife Zelda) agrees to marry Anthony (modeled after himself) and needs a moment for reflection. She pulls out her “A line a day” notebook to reminisce about former flames before crossing out the last few lines and writing “finis.”

Earlier that day I came across Paper Sources “One Line a Day” journal and thought it was truly exquisite. I’m not one for putting down my innermost thoughts to paper, as I am well aware that everything has the potential for blackmail. However I feel like I could make an exception for this little notebook. Even though it costs about the same as a bottle of Smirnoff, which arguably allows for more if not the same amount of reflection. So much for new years resolutions.

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