Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts

Your New To-Do

Are you feeling blue? A little down? Like a party popper? Unpoopular? (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, watch this RIGHT NOW. Then come back and finish reading.) Brighten up:

1. Soak in a bath for an absurdly long period of time. Bring a good book and clean, fluffy towels.
2. Swipe on red lipstick. It will boost your confidence so much that you'll smile at your reflection in every single window. Don't you feel better just thinking about that?
3. Organize your desk. A happy byproduct: your thoughts will be a tad less chaotic.
4. Order a cappuccino...to stay. No need to go on your merry way when there's foam to stir and sip. Sit down. SIT. DOWN.


[photo cred to 1, 2, 3 and 4]

Romance in Retrospect


They say that each generation thinks it invented love. But from what I can see, my generation seems to fear we’ve forgotten it. — NYT





Do you go on dates? Or did you? My mom had a boyfriend named Pete; he wore socks with sandals. My dad won't even wear sandals, so it's clear that this wasn't meant to be. Pete happened either before or after she dated Bernie, who, she recalls, was actually attractive. There were dates, which included dinner and movies and dancing. Then my grandfather pulled up in a silver station wagon and whisked her home. There were no preliminary text messages or gin and tonics involved, so I obviously don't relate. (Just kidding). (Kind of).

A new NYTimes essay describes the difference between the perception of love in that generation and that of ours. In high school, instead of shyly passing notes, I printed out AIM conversations. I locked text messages in my phone so that I couldn't accidentally delete them. The saved messages on my phone include voicemails from three different boyfriends. Communication and the consequential intimacy occur so fast that the gradual, step-by-step romance of the past is all but extinct.

The organic chemistry classes at Northwestern were designed to weed out those who weren't dedicated to pre-med. (I'm Exhibit A). Maybe the dates—the coffee, the drinks, the dinner, the goodnight kiss before two people go their separate ways—are a way to weed out the boys who aren't worth it, the guys who don't deserve the goodnight kiss, the preserved conversations that you'll pore over years later, the intact text messages and voicemails. It's a slower and steadier way of developing a relationship, but don't good things come to those who wait? What are your thoughts?


[photo cred here]

Speak Now: On Fashion


Girls do not dress for boys. They dress for themselves and, of course, each other. If girls dressed for boys they’d just walk around naked at all times.

- Betsey Johnson




Sometimes, it seems that not everyone takes my work as seriously as I do. Some don't consider it serious journalism, or they assume that I spend my days playing with lipstick.

Others think that fashion doesn't demand the same rigor and attention that topics such as politics and international events do. This may be true to a certain extent, but I don't think it means that fashion and beauty are insignificant. I believe that both are related, and both have an impact on how you're perceived and how you carry yourself. You can't judge a book by its cover, but you also can't discount the benefits of making a good first impression. I got my job thanks to a great first impression on a beauty editor who made a wonderful first impression on me (clearly). Beyond that, how you perceive yourself informs self-image and confidence, both of which are vital for everything from job performance to learning ability. Beauty is one of the most accessible ways for women to boost self-confidence in even little ways, whether it be by swiping on lipstick or spritzing perfume. Is this less important than the third victim of Herman Cain's alleged sexual harassment or the verdict of Dr. Conrad Murray's trial? Should this easy way to improve a woman's self-confidence go ignored?

Fashion, too, goes further than the spectacle of runway shows and passing trends. Throughout history, it has reflected culture and identity. It can denote the values of an era (high-collared dresses of Victorian wear) and social status (constrictive corsets, representative of the repression of women). Fashion is a form of expression of all of these things, as well as a manifestation of individual beliefs and tastes. Often, fashion is painted as a trivial indulgence, but it's a freedom and a privilege to be able to wear what we choose. It has its excesses and controversies; find me an industry that doesn't. At its core, though, fashion is a way to present and represent yourself in a subtle and unique manner. Regardless of where you're from or how much you earn, you can define yourself with what you choose to wear.

I've struggled with this for a bit—people don't consider fashion and beauty writing to be hard-hitting journalism or an intellectual field. I may not be reporting on a precedent-setting court case or giving a how-to on the newest version of the iPhone, but, in my own small way, I'm providing the tools for a woman's improved self-perception and increased confidence.

Plus, I play with lipstick about 4% of the time—and that 4% is awesome.

[photo cred here]

A Little Celebration

I turn 22 today, so I'm going to take this opportunity to paint my nails with glittery polish at my desk and eat an entire plate of cheese for dinner. Here's to champagne and having a job and playing with beauty products and graduating and family and happy hours and this dress (need it, but my wallet just shriveled up and died from sticker shock) and heirloom teacups and friends, both new and old.


Things I learned when I was 21:
1. If you can smell the whiskey on his breath through the door, keep it closed.
2. I hate Ikea. I love Ikea. I have a love-hate relationship with Ikea.
3. Whispering is rude.
4. Wearing a slip is important when your dress is sheer. Owning a full-length mirror is also helpful.
5. How to tell the difference between a traditional IRA and a Roth IRA.
6. Pear and bleu cheese ice cream exists. It's not too bad.

[photo cred here]

Mamihlapinatapai

There's a word in Yahgan, the language of Terra del Fuego, that means: "a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start." Adorable, right?

Mamihlapinatapai.
[photo cred here]

Say Yes...

...Yes to shimmering, dusky purple nail polish.
Yes to a short, swingy coat.
 Yes to baby polar bears.
Yes to these short stories...
And to reading them in bed.
Yes to a little Frank Sinatra.
Yes to bright pink hyacinths that smell like spring
...and yes to a glass of bubbly.

What are you saying yes to this weekend?

[photo cred to Patterson Maker]

Say Yes...

...Yes to ton carré.
Yes to the February issue of Real Simple.
Yes to red heels...
And to red lipstick.
Yes to this cat.
Yes to late nights and early mornings.
Yes to brunch, complete with bacon and raspberry jam.
...And mimosas.
Yes to Prep Talk.


[photo cred to We Heart It and Simply Seleta]

A Monday Stroll


This weekend, I read a sweet article about how the French have twelve synonyms for the word "wandering." I'm from New York and completely fulfill the stereotype that we walk extremely fast, always rushing from one place to another and never without a set destination, whether it be a new falafel place or just the 4 train from 86th and Lex. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I walked aimlessly, simply meandering through the streets. Now that I'm aware of this, does aimless strolling count if you're doing so consciously — how aimless can it be? So tell me, do you ever walk around simply for the sake of taking in the colors around you and breathing in the warm summer air?

[photo cred to Kari Geltemeyer]

Weekend Read


I love to read. I love to cook. I love to eat. Naturally, I'm a sucker for reading about cooking and eating. I was first drawn to Eat, Memory because Ann Patchett (one of my favorite authors) contributed to this essay anthology. Secondly, I appreciated that the editor, NYT food editor Amanda Hesser, required that the subject matter have no sort of frou-frou sentimentality regarding the stories and recipes. Not that sentimentality is always frou-frou or a bad thing -- I could wax poetic for hours about my grandmother's chicken cutlets. I do enjoy, though, how each of the contributors take what could be a mundane memory and inject life into it. Plus, the wide variety of cuisines and locations allows the reader to hop from Paris to China to Queens, NY within an hour. The best part? Even you don't buy this for the recipes featured alongside each piece, you still get one of the most hysterical George Saunders essays ever written.

Weekender

I won't be posting links for the weekend because I have two exams and two papers due early next week. However, I feel as though this photo would appropriately express my feelings about finals, because my to do list has dissolved into this:

And on that note, I really hope you have a lovelier weekend than me!

[photo cred to realistic optimist and Hyperbole and a Half, respectively]

Happy Mother's Day!

My mother would consider halting my college tuition payments for posting this online, but it's the only picture I could find of her as a child. She's on the bottom left, with the super-fly haircut and the shy smile. Right now, she and my father are in Italy, and it's awful to not hear her voice every day, with its slight Brooklyn accent and reassuring tone.

When I was young, I would climb into bed and cry while I listened to my mother downstairs, closing cabinets and folding clothes and making sandwiches for the next day's lunch. My dad would come in, bewildered and trying to figure out why I was sobbing, but it wasn't until my mother came upstairs and tucked me in that I stopped sniffling and fell asleep. I'd always been like that, colicky and screaming unless she (and no one else) held me. My mom would carry me for hours as a baby, dancing around the living room to Gloria Estefan's "Here We Are," and somehow managed to keep her dental office running smoothly.

I love you, Mom.

Weekender

(We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde)
This weekend should be more enjoyable than last. I have creative writing submissions to tweak, Pilates tomorrow morning, Sense and Sensibility to finish reading, and a paper to subsequently write about it. Here are some links if you, like me, hope to snag some spare time:

- an endearing spin on videochatting, compliments of my favorite comic strip here.
- a lovely, calming photograph to begin the weekend here; mine will probably resemble this plus a pile of books, a laptop, and smears of printer ink.
- the most beautiful surprise wedding I've ever seen, with a "Recycled" theme.
- a sweet taste test, available in fantastic packaging. I'll have to hunt this down.
- a clever little lookbook featuring spring picks by Aqua.

Have a beautiful weekend!
[photo cred to melt into spring]