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Smart Is the New Pretty: Pitch In

By Kirsten|June 13th, 2014|Smart Is the New Pretty|

Summer weekends are meant for bikinis, barbecues, and making new friends. Last weekend while we all chipped in to chop vegetables, pureé rotting mangoes, and grill up scallops (in our bikinis), I smiled to myself thinking how much fun I was having and how thankful I was to be surrounded by a group of lovely humans who were not only unafraid to get their hands dirty, but were also smart, funny, and interesting. (I was also thankful we actually made it safely out east after our non-teen driver texted away). Ugh. Who wants to be the pouty girl in the corner who doesn’t dare lift a finger so as to not chip her manicure? Not you. So, if you aren’t that awesome in the kitchen, volunteer to craft up a clever cocktail (have you heard of the “Phrostie”?) and be sure to have something worthwhile to talk about.

First and foremost, remember that while you’re having fun in the sun, all is not well with the world- starting with terror group ISIS. [NY Mag]
Okay, let’s lighten the mood. Lilo wants to laser off her signature freckles. Sounds reasonable. [The Superficial]
Maybe she’s gunning for the role of Wonder Woman. They’re doing a remake… [Elle]
If you’re looking for a job, you could always be a border babysitter. They’re hiring. [NY Post]
The real estate in Manhattan (and Brooklyn) is very expensive afterall. [NY Observer]
At least you can now afford a Larry Clark original photo though. [NY Mag]
He does it for the kids– much like this graffiti artist who got himself busted via Instagram. [NY Post]
In the Hamptons? You may very well run into Eric Cantor. [Page Six]
Well, good thing you didn’t bother booking that trip to Brazil because the bus drivers have revolted. [AP]
And perhaps, if you strike up a conversation with the cute guy across the table, he can take you out for the new “It” burger back in the city. [NY Post]
Maybe he’ll use OpenTable to secure your seating. They’re having the best week ever. [AP]
But I guess none of this will matter if we don’t survive the Friday the 13th solar flares. [NY Post]
Not even the best sunscreens on the market can protect you from that. [StyleList]

So, enjoy the weekend, but always be an asset- not a liability. Otherwise, this might be your last invitation to dinner.

xx,

WhyDid

WhyDid Wisdom: Role Playing

By Kirsten|May 16th, 2014|Why Did You Date Him?, WhyDid Wisdom|

A true fan of a good prop and almost all excuses for a theme party (except for 80’s and ugly Christmas sweaters- I will not participate, so just don’t ask), I began to think about role playing. Not only why it is so fun to slip into someone else’s persona even if only for an evening, but where some people fit into our lives and why they ever bothered showing up– especially without RSVP’ing.

My human wrecking ball reared his ugly head again and this go round completely demolished me and basically left me for dead. An abandoned building with no plans for reconstruction. Needless to say, it was a very difficult breakup to shake. One that even after an extended stay in California post Smitty surgery I couldn’t manage to completely cut off. Either that or I truly am a masochist.

I’d boarded the plane in Monterey late January/pre-birthday after having no contact for nearly two months, until ol’ Wile E. Coyote realized he was blocked and started bombarding my iCloud email with “I miss you” messages and invitations to cover seedy stories with him in Las Vegas. True romance. How could I not be hooked? I kindly declined and upon arrival back in New York, I felt strong and assured that I’d kicked that nasty habit once and for all. Sixth time’s a charm, right? But just as all men must be born with one, his radar went off and he was able to track me down and catch me during a moment, wherein I was lonely, cold, and a few too many glasses of wine in. The instant the door shut behind him the next afternoon, I immediately regretted having given in so easily. His half assed apologies and falsified justifications were hardly enough to have allowed him to even take me to a shitty bottomless brunch. Yet I had suffered what would be considered a relapse which had adorably been renamed by my friend- the only way of making it sound less tragic than it actually was.

Numbers were re-blocked. iMessage turned off. Celibacy sworn. Don’t worry, I was sure to repeat steps one through three two more times before finding out about his other concurrent ~~victim~~ girlfriend. True to form, it had taken something terribly awful for me to finally throw in the towel. This was ultimately the point of no return and surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as bad as I’d expected though it did disturb me a little for more than many reasons.

When a new (and wonderful) girlfriend asked that I please accompany her to meet up with some friends in the East Village one Sunday night early this spring, I was not expecting to walk into a startling and bewitching mix between Johnny Depp and John Lennon. As someone who is normally all but immune to the male mystique, I was completely thrown off guard while being simultaneously drawn in. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my mouth had actually dropped open onto the vintage wooden table where he and his bearded friends sat (visit BeardBro to get the secret of the star beard!). Covered in tattoos and stone cold sober, he wasn’t my standard breed. He was actually nearing the polar opposite of the past, but after some bonding over Lionel Ritchie lyrics and exchanging of Instagram handles (the new phone number), I was sold.

Turns out, the feeling was mutual. At least for the next week and a half. We made plans soon after and we spoke all day everyday following our outing. We shared the same quick, sick, twisted humor and had similar ideologies as well as professions that complemented each other’s. Though I thought he could potentially have had some staying power- there are very few people who can keep up with my undaunting and sometimes indecipherable wit- he all but fell off the face of the earth after having made lots of “future plans” with me and Smitty. Oddly enough, this actually ended up upsetting me more than being dumped for someone who can’t legally buy a beer in the US. After a few pow-wows with girlfriends and coming up with nothing but a lot of shoulder shrugging and ice cream sandwiches, we chocked it up to the “blackhole of dating” that is New York City. The best way I was able to come to terms with the jilt was realizing that while he may not have been a forever in my life, he was an all but crucial bridge in the road to my recovery and healing. And even though his behavior was only slightly north of total douchebag, I am so grateful to him for getting me over that little week long hump that could have just as easily sent me right back down the rabbit hole straight into another relapse.

It would have been just as easy to start wondering and obsessing about what was wrong with me and feeling angry at him, but instead I was reminded that I can not only be incredibly attracted to someone else, but there are other interesting fellows still out there. Gentlemen who like you- if only for a moment in time. Even if they do wear weird jeans and in retrospect probably wouldn’t have fit into your life longterm, it’s nice to be reminded how it feels to be pursued. To be reminded that you are smart and funny and worth being treated with more respect than a dirty dishrag at a C grade sushi restaurant.

So, you see, not everyone is meant to be a lifelong soulmate, friend, or boyfriend. Sometimes people are strategically placed into our lives at the exact moment we unknowingly need them to teach us lessons, save us from ourselves, and prepare us for what lies ahead. And instead of feeling bitter and holding onto the anger about being abandoned, passed over, or neglected it’s best to look more intently into their ultimate purpose and thank them for coming to our party. Even if they left without cleaning up, they technically did bring a hostess gift and it’s up to you to figure what that was and be grateful for it.

xx,

WhyDid

WhyDid Wisdom: Release Party

By Kirsten|April 17th, 2014|WhyDid Wisdom|

January is the time of year when everyone fools him/herself into thinking he/she is going to right wrongs, fix all flaws and become a whole new “me.” The gym is suddenly full of soft bodies that hadn’t bothered to lift more than the remote for the last year, but are now walking on the treadmill so slow it’s giving me anxiety because I have to wait. (Patience, that’s something I should have signed up for in 2014). Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for self improvement. It’s the only way to grow, but it’s now four months later and we seem to have ditched all of our goals for the new year, but yet have managed to hold onto a lot of other baggage. Why is it so much easier to let go of the good and not the bad?

We swore we’d lose that extra five pounds by summer, but those nachos at Cowgirl were just too damn tempting and so what if I had three cheat days this week? Despite the return of the polar vortex, spring will last but a week before a sweaty, scorching summer sets in upon us and no one will be able to hide out under baggy black clothes and layers upon layers. This is the second time of year when Equinox sees an influx of gymnasium delinquents and I have a near meltdown upon waiting for a stairclimber. Despite my disdain for faux fitness junkies, I’m a proponent for good health in any form… even if temporary. And like the mantra emblazoned upon the wall at Flex Studios, “Physical fitness is the first requisite of happiness,” there is another kind of weightloss that may be even more beneficial to your health and heart.

We cut dairy out of our diets, but continue on with toxic relationships. We purge our closets, but forget to purge our personal lives. Sometimes we hold onto people because we feel an obligation to do so. However, in doing so, we impede our own personal growth and crowd our lives with emotional clutter that blocks anything new and quite possibly better from entering. In turn, this might be the real type of fat that is weighing down our lives.

I kept saying I wanted this or I wanted that. All around me, others were moving forward with careers, relationships, families, and goals, yet I seemed to be stagnant. I couldn’t figure out why I was being left behind by normal social standards and then I realized something. My actions were contradicting my wishes. For example, I was in a very volatile relationship for most of the past year and after one too many early morning blow outs and a “vacation” from hell, I finally threw in the towel. While I had long since stopped answering phone calls and late night incoherent text messages, I was still friends with some of his friends and I was still checking in to see what he was doing. It was far too easy to see what he and his new 18 year old NYU dorm habitating honey were doing and really, why did (or should) I care? I would gut check myself against what I wanted in a mate versus what I was getting from this relationship and rationally knew it was far from matching up at which point I had to actually say to myself, “Who gives a (expletive)?” I’m romantic and nostalgic so I find it grueling to cut ties at times. I am capable of seeing what “could be” rather than what IS. Sadly, some people are emotional vampires and as hard as it may be, we have to wish them well and part ways.

And maybe sometimes it’s not a specific person that has to be eliminated from our lives, but maybe something that someone has done to us. We all make mistakes (even me), but there is no use in holding onto difficult and at times traumatizing events from our lives.

A friend of mine who is an up and coming star on the music scene spoke to me about what gives him motivation. His son was, of course, first on the list along with close friends and family. But then he told me that the naysayers and haters fueled him. I reminded him that those people did not deserve his energy and the more time he spent thinking about them, the more of his energy he was allotting to people who, quite frankly, did not deserve it. The more time spent focusing on your foes, the more you are actually feeding them. I suggested he only give pieces of himself to people who deserve and appreciate him and to (bleep) the rest of them. I’m not sure I swayed him to my way of thinking, but sometimes it’s helpful to remind myself of the same thing.

It may be a late start, but too late is always better than never. Shed those extra five pounds and shed those extra people who are weighing down your health and your heart.

xx,

WhyDid

WhyDid Wisdom: Picture This

By Kirsten|February 10th, 2014|WhyDid Wisdom|

So, you wanna get your picture snapped at Fashion Week.

Well, you’re in luck because it’s not all that difficult. You see, outside of the hypothetical “tents” at Lincoln Center lie photographers on a fashion safari and you’re the creature in the wild whose head is likely to be mounted next to that antelope in the den. It’s a mixed bag out there. Some people are actual photographers from credible media outlets. Others are bloggers capturing street style rather than shows. And then there are people who maybe just so happen to own cameras and decided to hang around as true fashion hangers on. It’s quite the spectacle and if you still think you’d like to find yourself on a .rus website one day a year from now, here are three hard and fast rules to having your mug captured for all of the internet to consume.

Be famous. I believe this is self explanatory, but maybe not because “famous” is relative these days.
Look like a crazy ass Olsen twin who may or may not have ingested bath salts pre-show. In my experience, people who look like total maniacs will always be photographed. This either says a lot about modern day “journalism” or these photographers somewhere along the way mistook freakshow for fashion. Basically layer on the weirdest shit you’ve got laying around your apartment. Add a turban and body glitter for good measure. For some reason, looking insane confuses these photographers and your pic will be snapped for better or worse.
Go fashion editor chic. The last and, in my opinion best, way to get noticed is to be clean, polished, and preferably wearing something designer. Definitely stick on a pair of dark shades so as to add to the mystery. Is she famous? Is she not? Doesn’t matter, they’ll shoot you just to be sure. A fur coat also seems to be the ticket to getting clicked this year. Look important by texting as you breeze by on the way up the stairs and into the shows.

And honestly, even if you don’t want your picture taken, too bad. It’s being taken. As I exited the shows and stuck around for a few to snap some photos of the outdoor ambience, I found that I was being photographed photographing everyone else. No one bothered to ask for my information, outfit details, or hand me a card, so heaven knows where my image may appear on the world wide web. Occupational hazard, I suppose. Welcome to Fashion Week. They don’t call New York the concrete jungle for nothing.

xx,

WhyDid

WhyDid Wisdom: Reserve Yourself

By Kirsten|January 31st, 2014|WhyDid Wisdom|

Winter 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?

We’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.