How to Be a Ladyperson at the Holidays: 10 Important Tips

Straight from the ad pages of your favorite magazines, here’s your guide to being a girl in December. Take notes.

* * *

1. Stay cozy. Wear a baby.

wear a baby If you play your cards right, your sensitive, goateed dad/boyfriend/professor will reward you with a pair of socks made out of his extra sweater sleeves.

 * * *

2. Flaunt your complexity.

Embrace all your many dimensions. Think: "I'm an heiress and an Italian professor at this upscale tropical funeral." Show off all your many dimensions at once. When planning outfits for your holiday soirées, think: “I’m an heiress and an Italian professor at this upscale tropical funeral.”

* * *

3. Represent feminine softness in a hard masculine world.

coach All around you are skyscrapers made of bricks and iron and glass and ouchy things. They’re all pointy and hard. But not you. You’re a soft pink flower in a gentle haze of light. Everything around you is blooming, because you breathed springtime into winter. You’re a superfresh candypants sugarblossom.

 * * *

4. If you’re truly hot, you…

View original post 565 altre parole


Serendipity is the new rule

With a Spoonful of Sugar

Siamo fatti della stessa sostanza di cui sono fatti i sogni, ma spesso ci troviamo bloccati dentro a rigidi schemi che ci stanno stretti come i pantaloni dopo il pranzo di Natale. Viviamo la vita tirando in dentro la pancia, trattenendo il respiro, fingendo che tutto ci calzi a pennello. In realtà siamo ben altro.

Siamo caffè caldo la mattina e lenzuola che profumano di casa, siamo i jeans strappati che facciamo fatica a buttar via. Perchè se c’è una cosa a cui ti affezioni sono proprio i jeans: hanno vissuto con te momenti di ogni tipo, sono diventati una seconda pelle. E potrai comprare altri cento pantaloni, ma niente sarà mai come loro.

Siamo collant smagliate e cravatte che al mattino non vogliono saperne di annodarsi per bene. Siamo quelli che quando è estate vogliono l’inverno, e viceversa. Siamo quelle che comprano scarpe bellissime (e altissime), che fanno male. E ti ritrovi a passeggiare…

View original post 98 altre parole

Why do you always feel stupid after a breakup?

I knew when you looked at me that way. I knew straight away what was going to happen. I didn’t need to hear you say that “we needed to talk”. I didn’t need any of your bullshit about being friends and keeping in touch. I knew all the way long that you were going to leave me just like that, with some pathetic excuse about how we couldn’t be together anymore.

I cried for days  before trying to understand. And writing things down has always helped me searching myself, my own thoughts.

At first, I couldn’t feel anything. No pain. No anger. Just emptiness. It felt like my heart had been torn apart, like you took away not only my happiness, but also every other emotion, even negative ones.

Even when I started to feel something, it wasn’t against you. It was against myself. I looked for something wrong I could’ve done. And it wasn’t difficult to find. The worst thing I’ve done in my entire life, the worst thing I could have done, was loving you. Loving you fully, with every little inch of myself, body and soul and heart. Every cell of my strange, broken person loved you. And in some wicked way, still does. Loving you was wrong all along. It made me believe you were different, you were never going to hurt me. It made me cancel all the small things you forgot.

And it made me feel incredibly fool for how much I loved someone that didn’t even deserve to be loved.

It will take years to get over you because you were my person. But I bet that since I turned that corner on the edge of crying, you never gave me a second thought.