Mar
07
2014
1


Why Did You Wear That: Body Party
Written by: WhyDid | Why Did You Wear That?

celebrity body jewelryWe’ve covered the bikini, the coverup and we already know how I feel about poolside footwear. Another not so obvious sunbathing accessory… that could potentially lead to some awkward tan lines, but you’re wearing enough SPF as to avoid that… is body jewelry. Specifically body chains. I have a couple of necklaces I next to never take off, but catapulting bling to the next level is the body chain worn with your bikini bod. It’s not as if you’re going to be doing laps like an Olympic swimmer and I’m willing to bet that if you’re anything like me, the only time you’ll subject your skin to a chlorinated public pool is when your dermis has actually reached the temperature right before incineration. Should you not be bold enough to bare your belly, another iteration is the hand chain which is another celebrity favorite at this very moment… and don’t you wanna be just like Beyonce?

body jewelry

 

1. Jennifer Fisher Rose Gold Plated Finger Bracelet, 2. Jacquie Aiche JA Disco Body Chain, 3. Noir Jewelry Double Ring Hand Chain, 4. Vanessa Mooney My Melody Body Chain, 5. Lioness Body Chain, 6. Vanessa Mooney The Noir Shoulder Body Chain, 7. Gold Tone Tiny Stud Body Chain, 8. Arme De L’Amour Gold Plated Finger Bracelet, 9. Lacey Ryan Ombre Stone Hand Chain, 10. Jennifer Zeuner Raquel Evil Eye Hand Chain

xx,

WhyDid

 

 

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Jan
31
2014
0


WhyDid Wisdom: Reserve Yourself
Written by: WhyDid | WhyDid Wisdom

annoying callerWinter is the time of year when many of us yearn to couple up in order to stay warm and potentially lower our ConEd bills. A lot of my friends are what could be considered professional daters. I’ve stopped asking what any of their chaps’ names are because I can’t keep up and would need a very elaborate flow chart in order to stay entirely in the loop. I’m always in utter amazement as to how they meet all of these fellas because most of my male companionship comes from my dog, gentlemen playing for the other team, and re-runs of Frasier. Ironically, I think I’ve just cracked the code as to my singledom with that last sentence.

Anyway, unlike myself, you’ve been hitting the town and getting hit on, you little minx, you. And in the mix of things, you’ve met a couple of cuties who have actually made it beyond asking for your number in between swigs of Jameson and you’ve spent a handful of cozy dinners and Saturday brunches at Extra Virgin and Cafe Cluny with one, maybe two, in particular. You knew it was meant to be when he ordered another round of mimosas and declared that there may be nothing better in this world than a great chocolate chip pancake except for maybe a hammock on Alphonse Island. In your mind, you’ve already started planning your June wedding at the St. Regis and have named your first born child due early next fall (you decided on something gender neutral and inanimate). You’re a perfect match much like Domenico and Stefano, so you can’t quite put your perfectly polished finger on why your affections, and text messages aren’t being returned.

Ready for an awful truth?

(You may need a quaalude and a seat for this). Okay, you know that one guy who continues to text you after countless subtle blow offs, blatant verbal abuse and finally virtual radio silence? You know… the one who tricked you into giving him your number after you said you’d just take his and then called himself from your phone. Yeah, that guy. Well, you may very well be that girl.

I know. It seems highly improbable, even mind blowing, that anyone male, female, or house plant could possibly resist your feminine wiles, biting wit, and Pilates body. But alas, as hard as it is to wrap your pretty little head around, you may have found the one and only human this side of the galaxy not interested in you or the Illuminati conspiracy theories.

Fine, maybe you didn’t bamboozle your way into his Blackberry (who still has one of those, by the way?), so let’s use another example. You know the sort of goofy handsome guy you went out with from Goldman Sachs? While he was perfectly nice and in “theory” should be a totally perfect partner completely capable of rearing healthy children and providing a stable lifestyle for your future family, there was just one problem. You didn’t feel any of that wild, crazy, I must have you more than this season’s Céline. He didn’t do anything wrong, per se. He was a perfect gentleman and has since then been hitting you up to have a second, third, and final date… before that wedding he’s planned in his head complete with future (already named) child.

Yep. It’s all starting to click isn’t it?

beyonceWe’ve all got a few of those guys lying around much like the Federal Reserve has a few spare bricks of gold. They’ll never get used, but it’s nice to know that they’re there for security’s sake and all. At one point, there were so many “code names” in my phone that I hadn’t really any clue who was calling anymore. I just knew I wasn’t going to answer under any circumstance. Not even after two dirty martinis. Okay, I have responded on occasion to these “reserves.” Sometimes because I’m just too nice and felt guilty leaving them hanging (passive aggressive much?). Other times I’ve just been totally bored in between checking Twitter and Instagram. There have been lonely nights in between relationships with people I actually liked. And sometimes my friends and I think it’s downright hilarious. Call me a mean girl if you want, but your nose may be growing at this very moment. You’ve totally done the same thing. We all have. And whether you admit it out loud or not, I want you to realize that it’s entirely possible that’s what is going on with you and Mr. Perfect.

While it can take women a little bit longer to warm up to a potential mate, guys know what they want almost instantly. They are hunters by nature and when they see something they want, they go for it. Full force. It’s science. A guy can sway us to the other side after a couple of dates by revealing a shared love of cheese, a dark sense of humor, or just general kindness and good behavior. Inversely, a guy can be completely smitten with a girl and she can crash and burn merely by being a bitch. Don’t be a bitch.

I’ve been given a hard time for having fairly high expectations, and while I may be asking a lot for wanting a 6’0+ gentleman with great style, a sense of humor, brains, charisma, love of small white dogs named Smitty and a handle on his personal finances, I don’t think common courtesy is too much to ask. I certainly do expect my potential love interest to have the capacity to craft up a cohesive text message using the proper your/you’re and two/to/too, let alone actually grasp the concept of dialing my telephone number for voice on voice conversation. As a matter of fact, I don’t think any of that is too much to ask- and you shouldn’t either. I have been pursued hard, like verging on restraining order, so, I know the difference between being the “reserve” and the “jackpot.” If someone can’t even take a moment from his or her grueling life (barring he/she is doing volunteer work in a country without telephone wiring or toilets), that person is probably not particularly interested in you. At very least, you just aren’t ranking high on the priority list and well, that’s a problem.

Listen, it may be disappointing to realize you aren’t someone’s ideal match but, there’s no need to beat yourself up about it or shamelessly and repeatedly throw yourself at someone who just thinks you’re “ok for now.” (Remember DBDG?) Essentially he’s doing you a favor by self eliminating. It’s like Darwinian dating. Instead of wasting any more time on someone who doesn’t see how absolutely spectacular you are, you can keep on stepping… right on towards your true “Mr. Right.” (And you should probably throw in a hair toss or two). You wouldn’t jam your feet into shoes that don’t fit (I mean, maybe), so why would you try to force a connection that just isn’t there? All that comes from that is uncomfortableness and corns. Just repeat to yourself, “No answer is your answer.”

So, next time you are staring at your gold iPhone imploringly, just remember that poor ol’ chap you’ve renamed “Never Gonna Happen” and reserve yourself.

xx,

WhyDid

 

Coincidentally saw this video this afternoon post-posting.  All too fitting.

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Jan
27
2014
0


Red Carpet Recap: Up All Night To Get Lucky (and write this post)

slipknot-beyonce-daft-punk-grammysLast night the 56th Annual Grammy Awards were held at the Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles.  The red carpet was covered in designer clad nominees and presenters from Kendrick Lamar to Anna Kendrick all looking to clinch their very own gold sippy cups.  You know who didn’t win a Grammy?  My computer… because it failed to perform.  I’ve been without it since Thursday and fortunately was able to harass the geniuses at Apple enough to retrieve it at 6:45pm on Sunday evening– just in time to chip in my two cents on the evening’s events.  Phew.

To go ahead and get the party started, Beyonce, husband, Jay-Z, and that ass took the stage wherein we all began to feel guilty about the half chewed leftover piece of cold pizza in our mouths.  Perhaps we should all take up “surfing” because it seems to be doing wonders for Beyonce’s body… and love life.  While we’re at it, where can one meet a man who glances at us like we’re the elusive golden unicorn and also happens to be a rap music mogul and doting daddy?

While on the topic of children, teen dream, Lorde was given the duty of taking the stage after Jay and Bey and despite a somewhat spastic start, she nailed her vocals proving that she earned both song of the year and best pop solo vocal wins.  Speaking of nailing it, can anyone explain those nails to us?

But let’s get down to what really matters, the fashion.  The Golden Globes were all about crimson, the SAG’s about blue, and the Grammy’s were primarily comprised of glimmering golds.  There were spatterings of color from blue to orange and another heavy dose of red, and quite a few female icons opted for pants in black.  Madonna and son, David, wore matching Ralph Lauren and oh gawd, she wore a grill.   And shouldn’t her grill match her bedazzled gloves?  And what happened to her British accent?  It seems she’s traded it in for a southern twang… maybe due to her golden grill?  It’s too much for me to comprehend right now.  I ‘m drunk in love… or maybe prosecco.

The ladies who took our breath away have all graced both the best and worst dressed lists in award shows past.  Katy Perry was a vision in (predicted) Valentino, Beyonce in sheer white Michael Costello, a pregnant Ciara in Emilio Pucci, and a tiny Taylor Swift in Gucci.  I was torn on Taylor because there was no denying how stunning her gown was, but the hair and makeup didn’t match in my opinion.  This was her time to be edgy. A slick ponytail and more dramatic makeup would have taken her totally over the top.  Her half assed updo read post Pilates hair to me.  By the way, have none of Taylor Swift’s friends shown her a video of her dancing?  Please do.

On the other end of the spectrum, as adorable and talented as Ariana Grande may be, I’m heading to her house with a hairbrush and some tough love.  If I see her in another half up-half down ‘do, I’m shaving her bald like Britney.  As for the man posing as a roast beef eating Smokey the Bear, it’s a good thing you’re handsome and talented, cause that hat…  It’s got its own Twitter handle for heaven’s sake.  Skylar Grey wore what is essentially a flesh colored Band-Aid and Zendaya, I don’t even know what to do with you.

But for the most part the evening was full of fun surprises like 34 couples being married by Queen Latifah during a Macklemore/Madonna performance and a Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney reunion.  I’m just left wondering where our bad girls of the red carpet, Miley and Rihanna were?  Lady Gaga was also nowhere to be found leaving the fashion shenanigans up to the men and some creepy ass clowns.

Doesn’t Matter if You’re Black or White:

sarah hyland paula patton grammySarah Hyland, Paula Patton in Nicolas Jebran, Judith Hill

Back in Black:

kelly-osbourne-lorde-grammysKelly Osbourne in Badgley Mischka, Faith Evans, Louise Roe, Lorde

White Snakes:

The 56th Annual GRAMMY Awards - ArrivalsParis Hilton in House of Milani, Steven Tyler, Keltie Knight, Iggy Azalea in Elie Saab

It’s a (Wo)Man’s World:

maddona grammysStevie Nicks, Cyndi Lauper, Yoko Ono, Madonna and son, David in Ralph Lauren

Suits and Ties:

miguel kaskade grammysMiguel in Saint Laurent, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis in Mr. Turk, Austin Mahone in custom Sanctuary 28, Kaskade

Gold Album:

rita ora grammysRita Ora in Lanvin, Amber Rose in Naeem Khan, Chrissy Teigen in Johanna Johnson

Get Naked:

kasey musgraves grammysSarah Bareilles Blumarine, Kasey Musgraves in Armani, Brooklyn Haley

Red:

pink-miranda-lambert-grammysTamar Braxton, Miranda Lambert in Pamella Roland, Pink in Johanna Johnson, Gloria Estefan in Gustavo Cadile, Colbie Caillat in Ezra Santos

Channel Orange:

giuliana-rancic-grammysGiuliana Rancic in Alex Perry, Natasha Bedingfield in Christian Siriano

True Blue:

grammys 2014 red carpetAnna Faris in Fitriani, Bonnie McKee in Gustavo Cadile, Alicia Keys in Armani Prive

Outfit of the Year:

best dressed grammysKaty Perry in Valentiono, Beyonce in Michael Costello, Ciara in Emilio Pucci, Taylor Swift in Gucci

And the Winner Isn’t:

grammys worst dressedAriana Grande in Dolce and Gabbana, Pharrell Williams, Zendaya in Emmanuel Ungaro, Skylar Grey Michael Costello

and in case you missed it or just need a reminder as to why you need to hit the gym…

xx,

WhyDid

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Jul
11
2013
0


WhyDid Wisdom: When Your Fixer Upper Becomes a Human Wrecking Ball
Written by: WhyDid | WhyDid Wisdom

open cage doorHi. My name’s Kirsten and I love to save things. That’s right, I’m the girl who found just about any and all types of stray animals and wanted to keep them. Wild bunnies, frogs, lizards, birds, and even hermit crabs—you name it, it was coming home with me. I’m the girl who brought in her rescued baby squirrels to third grade show and tell. Yes, squirrels. Some might say I have a penchant for rescuing things, taking in the lost and forlorn. My parents were certain I’d become a veterinarian… or zookeeper. I probably would have had it not been for ninth grade biology and that whole dissection of a frog thing. Well, turns out the same little blonde who fed baby bunnies with an eyedropper when she was eight graduated to her own species as she got older.

Without fail, I seem to find those who are wounded, lost, or troubled for friendships as well as romantic relationships. I don’t seek out the wayward and wandering, but without fail, that’s who I find. It concerns me they say, “like attracts like” because if that’s the case, I must be completely insane. Whether it be an alcoholic, narcissist, schizophrenic or sociopath (I specialize in sociopaths), I’ve opened up my home and heart to all sorts of human personality defects. After many tears, broken hearts and promises, I started to realize my pattern. Admission is the first step in the road to recovery, you know. After my last breakup and a “pal” who couldn’t seem to pull it together, I made a mental note to be more wary of those telltale red flags.

So when my dear friend, ironically the same one who introduced me to my ex-fiancé– which should’ve been my first clue– brought me to a SuperBowl party hosted by another one of her friends, I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone of dateable interest. As our gracious host came over to introduce himself, I found myself attracted to his boyish charm mixed with nonchalance. My friend must have seen the glimmer in my eye because she immediately put her hand on my arm and warned me, “He’s not your future husband, but he’s definitely a good time.” What sealed the deal for me was his reaction to a gaggle of bitchy girls foreign to the East Village who pitched a full fledged fit over his inability to switch the sound from the evening’s playlist (bonus points for a shared love of gangster rap) to Beyonce’s halftime performance. Somehow phone numbers were exchanged and so began the dysfunction.

Heeding my friend’s warning, I hadn’t taken things very seriously. It all started off as some kind of joke. A form of entertainment for me and my girlfriends. I shrugged off the 3am dinner invitation. We laughed about the 13 missed calls ranging from 2 until 7am. The nonsensical text messages that poured in well past my self imposed curfew were topic of discussion over frittatas and mimosas. The strange promises that we’d some day be taking our children to Epcot seemed like silly ramblings, but somewhere along the way, I fell for this little lost bird. And I fell hard.

Sure, his clothes never quite matched, but in the most endearing manner. I never knew what he had been doing all night or where he’d spent the evening doing it. I couldn’t be certain where he’d be the next day or when I’d hear from him next. We could barely make it through brunch without a minor to moderate meltdown. But as I looked at him lying in my perfectly pristine white bed, long lashes, perfect teeth, floppy brown curls, and long limbs, I was hooked. The moment he walked out of my door with an inaudible adieu, my heart ached. I wanted more. And the cycle repeated. Over and over again.

After one particular raucous evening out, one might say that I could be labeled as “intoxicated.” Let’s not play Mary Magdalene, we’ve all been there. The problem was when we returned back to my apartment, my little lost bird said to me, “Maybe we should hang out some other time when you’re– less wasted.” The tables had turned. The caretaker had become the responsibility, the charge. I awoke the next day not only feeling hungover, but confused, hurt. How could someone who I’d been not only tolerant but nurturing of, turn his back on me in my time of need? That’s the pattern though. In a functional relationship, partners take turns with the ups and downs. As a zookeeper, you’re always going to be making sure the elephants have clean water and the tigers have fresh meat. They won’t bother worrying about if and when you take your lunch break or how you slept last night. To be a successful zookeeper, you need to make sure you’ve taken care of yourself before you take a step into the lion’s den, otherwise you’ll become their lunch.

And so, painful as it was, I had to let my little lost bird go, at least until I could reconfigure my own wellbeing. I can’t lie, however. If a hippopotamus with a sprained ankle and narcotics dependency showed up tomorrow, I’d make room in my queen size bed for him to recover. This time, I’ll just make sure my own deficiencies are handled first.

xx,

WhyDid

 

image via

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May
07
2013
0


Red Carpet Recap: Requirements Were Met.

Julie Macklowe in Zang Toi, Zandra Rhodes, Madonna in Givenchy, Sarah Jessica Parker in Giles Deacon

Since 1948 the Metropolitan Museum of Art has hosted the Met Ball (also known as the Costume Institute Ball) to fete the opening of the fashion exhibit at the Costume Institute.  Every year, the event has a theme that attendees are encouraged to channel with their chosen attire.  This year’s theme was deemed Punk: Chaos to Couture and that got the fashion world in a bit of a tizzy.  A stripped down rock starting between 1974 and 1976 characterized by DIY principles and sub-culture rooted in anti-establishment and rebellious youth, would fashion’s elite really relate to the theme seeing as some of them hadn’t even been conceived when punk was present?  The red carpet proved to be a bit of a crap shoot, which was made especially apparent when Hailee Steinfeld referenced Avril Lavigne as “punk.”

Some ladies played it subtle by simply accessorizing with studded jewelery or faux-hawk coifs.  Dramatic dark smokey eyes and deep berry lips were also favored on the red carpet.  But the real stars of the red carpet were the women who really went for it.  Anne Hathaway went full blown blonde, SJP sported an exquisite mohawk headpiece by Philip Treacy, and Madonna said, “to hell with pants!” in Givenchy.  Rooney Mara, Nina Dobrev, and Minka Kelly were the perfect mesh of modern and punk embracing the look in sexy lace and smoldering makeup.  While Blake Lively, Taylor Swift, and Amanda Seyfried were stunning, they veered to the side of safe.  Which can’t be said for some like Coco in Emanuel Ungaro, a tie dyed Elle Fanning, and a seemingly confused Olsen twin.  And I’m left wondering if some of these ladies didn’t get the memo or are just party poopers who simply ignored the theme altogether.

So, who got punk and who got punk’d?

Perfectly Punk:

met gala 2013 red carpet best dressedDonatella Versace, Anne Hathaway in Valentino, Rooney Mara in Givenchy, Lauren Santo Domingo in Dolce & Gabbana, Minka Kelly in Carolina Herrera

Miranda Kerr in Michael Kors, Emma Watson in Prabal Gurung, Dakota Fanning in Rodarte, Carolyn Murphy in Nina Ricci, Allison Williams in Altuzarra

Punky Pants:

Kristen Stewart in Stella McCartney, Nina Dobrev in Monique Lhuillier, Jaime King in TopShop, Jessica Biel in Giambattista Valli

How Supermodels Do Punk:

Karolina Kurkova in Mary Katrantzou, Gisele Bundchen in Anthony Vaccarello, Anja Rubik in Anthony Vaccarello, Cara Delevigne in Burberry, Brooklyn Decker in Peter Pilotto

Punk Princesses:

Julianne Hough in TopShop, Taylor Swift in J. Mendel, Blake Lively in Gucci, Gwen Stefani in Maison Martin Margiela, Amanda Seyfried in vintage Givenchy

Pretty, but not Punk:

Gwyneth Paltrow in Valentino, Anna Wintour in Chanel, Kate Upton in Diane von Furstenberg, Kate Beckinsdale in Alberta Ferretti, Heidi Klum in Marchesa

 Pieces of Punk:

Jaime King, Ginnifer Goodwin, Jennifer Lawrence

Emmy Rossum, Sienna Miller, Jessica Alba

You’ve Been Punk’d:

Ashley Olsen in Dior, Elle Fanning in Rodarte, Miley Cyrus in Marc Jacobs, Nicole Richie in TopShop, Nora Zehetner in Marchesa

Coco Rocha in Emanuel Ungaro, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley in Gucci, Christina Ricci in Vivienne Westwood, Beyonce in Givenchy

Who were your favorites?

xx,

WhyDid

 

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