Spread the Lurve

Friendlies, I have just the one question for you on this fine winter afternoon:
Have you been to iheartdaily yet?
And if not, WHY NOT?
(Okay, yeah, technically that was two questions. BUT REALLY. Why the delay?)
For serious, visit the site. Sign up for the newsletter. Follow the Twitter feed. iheartdaily is a free daily email of cool stuff.
It’s that simple: Free. Daily. Cool.
Brought to you by two fabu former magazine editors/current major stylistas, Melissa Walker and Anne Ichikawa. Needless to say, girlfriends have excellent taste.
Fashion. Entertainment. Beauty. News.
i heartheartheart iheartdaily.
You will, too.

location: the Bradbrary
currently reading: um, iheartdaily. duh.
pressing question/s: see above.

Fun and Games?

Reegs has had the brilliantissimo idea of getting the gang together tonight for some stress-reduce-age in the form of bowl-a-rama. Normally, I’d be all about the pins (and needles), but in this particular case, I’m feeling likely to strike out.

(I’m obvs stressed when I’m punning with absolutemente zero remorse.)

I dunno . . . a certain someone and I have been trying to be all normal-like and pretend that nothing happened at the Hollywood Ball, but a big group outing might be a little too close for comfort. I’d be lying if I said that there wasn't something about his goofy grin that sends me spinning. No matter how much I try to deny it.

Ugh. Let’s face it. I’ve got to get my mind out of the gutter.

location: the Bradbrary—finals are a’comin!

status: spin-ny. Alas.

soundtrack: eighties remix on the iPod. Perfect studying tunes. NOT. But I can’t say no to classic Madge.

Video Killed the Radio Star

For reals—who all caught the MTV VMAs last night? 'Cause let me tell you, there was fashion, and there were faux-pas. A lot. Of both.
Much as I know you friendlies are hanging on my every cyber-word, I didn't live blog, because yours truly couldn’t be distracted from the task of viewing with Spence and Paige. We sipped our custom-mixed saketinis (thanks for the recipe, Dad) each and every time a single soul referenced the possibility of a comeback by one Britney Spears. An upscale drinking game, if you will. Needless to say, things were a touch blurry about twenty minutes in.
Your consolation prize, then, is a round-up of my favorite fashions from the evening, for better or for worse. (Caveat: if you disagree with little old me, just keep it under your hat. I’m offering this as a service to the masses and am not especially looking for constructive criticism.)
Now, without further ado, the good, the bad, and the HOLY GABBANA.

THE GOOD:

• Miley Cyrus actually managed to look cute, flirty, and totally age-appropriate. Go figure.
• A-Simp was rockin’ the preggers belly with some seriously sexy red hair and a goth vibe. Me likey.
• Note to Chase Crawford: Call me!
• I think I have a girl crush on Bar Refaeli. She should be, like, a model or something.

THE BAD:

• She-Pratt could use a good steaming for the dress, and a body scrub to de-orange-ify her fake-bake. I’m just sayin’.
• What is going on with Cisco Adler? It’s like someone smacked him with a hipster stick. Try one trend at a time, homeboy.
• Okay, so there’s nothing particularly wrong with Spencer Pratt's attire. Regardless, I still chose to blame him.
• I’m all about the whole “You can never be too rich or too thin” thing, but seriously? Nicky Hilton needs to eat a sandwich, stat.

THE HOLY GABBANA!

• Brooke Hogan better not bend over.
• Kristen Stewart should prolly have kept the top up on the ride over. Or at least packed a brush.
• She has voluntarily chosen to get horizontal with Spencer, which is a disaster. But the real issue I have with Heidi Montag is her cut-out booties and off-the-shoulder potato sack.
• Perez Hilton is mad for plaid. Me, I’m just a little queasy taking in the whole outfit.

location: the den
mood: snarkalicious
crimes of fashion: numerous

Dog Days ≠ Going to the Dogs!

Girlies, I know it’s the summertime and the air is so humid that it actually shimmers when you squint, but blitches, please—we still have our reputations as the Main Line’s young elite to uphold. And you know what that means . . .
Fashion first, friendlies!
For serious, if I see one more Bradfordian idly wandering through Rittenhouse Square in a Juicy Couture terry mini and Havaianas, there’s TOTES going to be hell to pay.
Step it up, girlfriends. You’re better than that. Terrycloth is only for the privacy of one’s own home. And even then, it's iffy.
Shame on all of you.

location: the Closet
fabric of choice: linen. How’d ya like that?
bewilderment at the fashion foibles of others: like, multifold