Fornever 28

 

 

SUPER high quality graph made by yours truly. I never said I was a scientist or a mathematician...

SUPER high quality graph made by yours truly. I never said I was a scientist or a mathematician...

Well, it finally happened. I knew it was coming one day… in fact, I’ve had several instances where I’ve thought to myself “yup, this is it…” But this time…this time, I know for sure: I’m too old to shop at Forever 21.

This “rite of passage” will take place for many women of my generation. For some it will come and go quickly, without even a flinch, and for others…it will be slow and often times painful, like the slow removal of a band aid.

To be honest, I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I started shopping at Forever 21. In high school I was reaaaal ride or die with Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister (equally as dreadful), and as I recall, Forever’s aesthetic was slightly more Love and Hip-Hop than Keeping Up with the Kardashians at the time. So, let’s go with 18. Just as I was entering my Freshman year of college.

After many years of attempting to channel the likes of LiLo, Rachel Zoe, Nicole Richie and the Olsen Twins on the cheap, the slow, yet steady decline probably started around 26 and came to a not surprising, yet slightly disturbing halt yesterday, at the ripe old age of 28.

In order to full encapsulate this decade-long journey, we have to start from the very beginning. So please, sit back, relax and let me set the scenery for you:

***

18-22 Years Old: The level of excitement/anticipation upon entering the magical all-white doors of cheap clothing Narnia is unprecedented. It’s Thursday afternoon, and Mom just put $50 in your checking account…there’s only ONE thing to do: grab your gurlz and head to the mall for some new “going out shirts” (oh yes, the going out shirt was a BIG deal). Once you curate the PERFECT flowy, faux satin shirt+ leggings+ pumps ensemble along with your headband/necklace/earring combo (over-accessorizing is crucial) ALL FOR $20 you are SO ready for a Captain’s and Diet Coke or 12!! THURSTY THURSTDAY HERE WE COME!

EXHIBIT A

EXHIBIT A

REALLY trying to channel Nicole here. If it wasn't already obvious.

REALLY trying to channel Nicole here. If it wasn't already obvious.

Leggings and Leopard print, for the win....

Leggings and Leopard print, for the win....

23-25 Years Old: College is over (tear!), but you’re still keeping Forever in the mix…sometimes they have decent basics, and HEY you can still do Thursty THURZ right?! PLUS you just spent $500 of your graduation money on a Burberry jacket, so its actually SUPER fiscally responsible of you to mix such high end and low end items! #Adulting #RachelZoeWouldApprove

26-28 Years Old: The urge to go into Forever 21 has considerably subsided over the last few years, and like the plot of any Nicholas Sparks novel, you know your days together are numbered…but you have a bachelorette party coming up in a few weeks and you really just want a few cute basic rompers or something. You’re going to be doing a lot of day drinking, so you don’t want to bring anything TOO nice or expensive, but you still want to look cute and trendy!(#dressingforthegirls) Upon entering this once beloved establishment, you find yourself more confused than excited by what surrounds you.

“Why would I, or anyone wear a cropped tee shirt with Garfield on it???

After rummaging for a solid 25 minutes, you FINALLY find a few things that MIGHT work so you head to the dressing room. And then, the rage sets in…

“What the fuck, this ‘LARGE’ could fit an American Girl Doll…I’m never eating carbs again.

“Ew, this material feels…dirty…and this already has a not-intentional hole in it…”

"Is this on backwards or is it really just THAT unflattering..."

“OMG, I need a drink.”

And then, just when you think things can’t get any more pitiful, they do: As you are angrily shimmying your way out of an ill-fitting bright pink romper that looks like a disco party-potato sack, you overhear the conversation in the dressing stall next to you.

It’s two girls, no older than 16. One complaining to the other that her boyfriend can’t come over that night because he just got his license and isn’t allowed to drive on the highway yet.

And that’s the moment you realize that your body, mind and SOUL are flat our rejecting your existence in conjunction with this store. And you gotta get out, FAST…and never, EVER return. 

And so...here I am today.  Just a tinge of trauma remains, but onward and upward I go. Can't keep a shopaholic down. However, it did get me wondering where my peers were having success.

SO, grown-ass ladies of the world...where do YOU love to shop? And if you've also experienced a similar Forever21 related horror story or any shopping horror story, remember #SharingIsCaring

Til Next Time!

XO,

G

FRESHLY SQUEEZED.

#NOFILTER

#NOFILTER

Hellooooooo!

Long time no talkie. I don’t like to make excuses for why I haven’t blogged…so, woops! But here I am…

The catalyst of today’s post was a tweet from a friend that got me thinking about how Lemonade will likely be the 1989 of 2016. TONS will love it, some won’t, but either way it will be discussed ad nauseum because of question-evoking “clues” throughout each album… is EVERY song about Taylor’s 5-day fling with Harry Styles? Who is “Becky with the good hair”!?

Let me start by saying my good-willed feelings toward Taylor Swift are like an unstable ship passing in the night. They’re there, things become rocky, and then they’re gone. So maybe they’re more like a capsized ship…but I digress. I only have so much room for her in my life, and in 2015 she occupied way more space than I ever intended her to.

Much to my chagrin, I enjoyed 1989 quite a bit. It was most certainly not “Shake It Off” that reeled me in (in fact, the music video for that song is basically the culmination of all the things I don’t like about Taylor Swift), but her more ethereal, grown up songs like “Clean”, “I Know Places” and “This Love” I got down with... For Taylor and me, it’s pretty much always been this way.  I’ll be honest, I loved Fearless back in the day! I listened to it every day on the way to and from Summer school. It got me through when my flaky summer fling came to a crashing halt! (Don’t worry, he ended up a fat townie #karma).

HOWEVER, I feel like there’s a Michael Scott-esque quality to her (coming from me that’s practically a compliment because I love Michael Scott) that I can’t get past. JUST when you think there’s a glimmer of hope that she’s evolving and MAYBE toning down her purposeful awkwardness, she goes and fucks it up. For example, in her recent 73 Questions  video with Vogue, she’s putting up this faux-edgy, can’t-be-bothered front. Ummm, you’re not Johnny Depp. Please stop. But what really sent me over the edge was when she was asked “what’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” and her response was “my boyfriend planted an olive tree in my yard for Christmas”. Really? THAT was your favorite gift? A fucking tree that probably hasn’t even blossomed from the ground yet? BULL-SHIT. Just be honest and tell us about the $30,000 Birkin bag “your boyfriend” aka CALVIN HARRIS, got you, or some 12 carat diamond earrings. PLEASE! And of course, I cannot fail to mention the final nail in coffin moment. When asked her favorite alcoholic beverage, Taylor responded, without skipping a beat: vodka, Diet Coke. VODKA. DIET. COKE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!!!!!! That’s just unforgiveable.

Do you see what I mean? Taylor, her Anna Wintour haircut and 1989 need to take a well-deserved seat. Give us the break we need.

ENTER Beyoncé. If you know me, you probs know I’m pretty ride or die with Bey, so it’s no surprise I really love Lemonade. The visual part is an awesome mix of Gone Girl-Meets-Deep South-Meets-Victorian era fashion-meets 2016. What’s really causing a stir is the alleged scandal behind the album: DID JAY-Z CHEAT? I may be wrong, but here is my take on it: I don’t think Lemonade is based on factual events. I don’t think “Becky with the good hair” is a real person. I DO think that Beyoncé purposefully crafted and marketed it so that people would wonder, but in true form, she’ll never actually confirm it. Based on the content of the music and visuals, it almost seems more like she studied a focus group of women who had been through some tough shit, including her own mother and grandmother (who you eventually figure out inspired the namesake of the album), mixed it with her own life experiences and made an album out of it. Lemonade isn’t about whether Jay-Z cheated or not, it’s about strong women prevailing on their own terms, and if you can’t get behind that, you better check yourself! (Ok enough of that I'm starting to sound like Lena Dunham or something).

All in all, I think Lemonade is the palette cleanser we need after a STRONGLY saturated year of Taylor/1989. And I’m going to flat out say it: I just think Beyoncé is superior. I have not seen Taylor live (couldn’t bring myself to pay $300 for a nosebleed seat at Gillette Stadium), but I have seen Bey perform up close and she’s a better singer, dancer, all around performer and more beautiful in person than you could ever wrap your head around.

Taylor is the Princess, but Beyoncé is the Queen. Bow down, bitches.

 

WISE BEYOND OUR YEARS

Probably 7 or 8...at the height of all things mentioned in this blog post.

Probably 7 or 8...at the height of all things mentioned in this blog post.

It's funny how something small can quickly take your mind to a different time and place. This past Friday as I was sipping on some vodz and getting ready to go out to dinner, it happened to me. As I was perusing Apple Music to really SET THE MOOD for my night (my go-to lately is The Beauty Behind the Madness by the Weeknd...LOVVVVVE HIM) I came across a little gem that goes by the name Fantasy. My first CD ever. The album I forced my family to watch me perform in the living room on a weekly basis. THAT'S RIGHT. I'm talking about our old friend, Mariah. AKA Mimi/the former Mrs. Cannon, etc.

As I was revisiting the CLASSICS, including "ONE SWEET DAY" (feat Boyz II Men), and "ALWAYS BE MY BABY", it occurred to me how absurd it was that these were the songs I'd lip sync to with such conviction (at like, seven years old...) that you'd think I was the one who suffered the tragic loss of a former scorned lover. ALMOST, GWYN, ALMOST. The closest thing to tragedy I'd experienced at that age was the gut wrenching realization that Jonathan Taylor Thomas would never be my boyfriend or future husband (and good riddance because he peaked at 12 anyway...)

Oh, but it doesn't end with Mariah. It didn't even START with Mariah. My first cassette tape (besides anything by The Beatles) was CRAZY, SEXY, COOL by TLC. SEEMS APPROPRIATE FOR A SMALL CHILD, NO? I'm not even sure how I got my hands on it because I swear my parents are normal, responsible, loving people who wouldn't have condoned their 2nd grader listening to a song called "Red Light Special". To be honest with you, I still don't know what the fuck a red light special is but I'm pretty sure it has to do with prostitution. Can someone please end this 20 year period of wondering and let me know?

Don't get me wrong, if you WEREN'T making up choreography to "Waterfalls" and arguing with your friends over who had to be T-Boz (because duh, I'm OBVIOUSLY Left Eye) as a kid in the 90's you weren't doing it right. I even knew the rap part at the end of "Waterfalls" which ABSOLUTELY includes a verse about "tootin' 'cain into your own vein"...WHOLESOME!

LUCKILY, I turned out okay. Some of my other hobbies as a child included watching the same episode of Full House 93 times; memorizing each and every line of dialogue in the movie Clueless - still know it all to this day; trimming my own bangs; trimming the cat's fur; playing dress up; prank calling people; begging my mom to let me watch Ricki Lake; and most of all: sneaking into our German foreign exchange student's room and experimenting with her makeup after she left for school in the morning. *I have to give myself credit for answering with a solid "NO" every time my parents asked me if I was wearing mascara and lipstick, when I obviously was.

So I guess, all in all, I really haven't changed that much.

 

*I was eventually caught one day when I accidentally left a tube of liquid eyeliner open, upside down, and it spilled everywhere.

 

O, CANADA: THE REMIX

HI!

For anyone who may have read my blog a long time ago (aka my mom), you might have noticed that things have changed a bit. Mostly the layout - I switched from Wordpress to Squarespace, for a few reasons. First off, I like how easy Squarespace is to use... oh AND I was threatened with a lawsuit over a photo I used of a certain celebrity getting arrested after she threw a bong out of a New York City apartment window. SORRY I LIKED HER (probably fake) VERSACE CREW NECK SWEATSHIRT. This squabble has since been settled, however I wanted a fresh start. Luckily, I was able to keep all of my old posts on Wordpress, but decided to make it private in case any other money hungry bottom feeding schmucks wanted to come after my non-existent fortune. That being said, I figured I’d start incorporating older posts into my new blog. Some of which, it’s probably better that the world never have access to again, but a sprinkling here and there are still relevant.

. . .

Friday, August 21st:

TODAY I awoke with the need to don a Canadian tuxedo. I’m not exactly sure when this went from being a joke to an acceptable trend … But I don’t hate it. I pretty much live for a chambray and skinny jeans, so the fact that I can pair them together without people assuming I live in a trailer in the middle of Saskatchewan is a beautiful thing. THE KEY here is to properly accessorize this look. I decided to go with a gold statement necklace and leopard flats.  

 First things first… Don’t mind my *iPhone 5c. I know it’s the subsidized housing version of an iPhone but like I was hasty and didn’t realize it at the time… And my upgrade is in ONE MONTH thank god. So stop judging me. It goes great with my Céline sunglasses and Marc Jacobs purse. (Shallow). 

MOVING ON… I strategically cut my face out of this photo because I accidentally passed the f out, face first after work today. In this full outfit, mind you. I laid down for a sec to figure out my next move and an hour later I was being awoken by a phone call. #oops

WHERE WAS I AGAIN? Do I need to list the deets of this outfit? Let’s just say it’s a mix of Macy’s (unclear of the brand), Old Navy, J Brand, and Steve Madden. Budget friendly much?

*I’ve since upgraded to the iPhone 6. What a peasant. Also, I had originally included some celeb Canadian tux photos BUT since I'm not really in the mood to receive any more legal threats, I've decided to forgo those... ;)

This will conclude today's GDJ Archive visit. Stay tuned for more NEW content soon.

XO,

G

 

 

CHANEL-O-WEDNESDAY on a THURSDAY.

Hello Friends and Lovers,

I hope you are having a truly, DAZZLING Thursday. I realized that today was going to be special during my morning scan of Instagram, when I came across an inspirational gem that will likely stick with me for the rest of my days. Let me just say, NOTHING prompts a spiritual awakening more than a pic stitch collage of a complete stranger documenting their pre AND post-op rhinoplasty’d nose, nestled ever so gingerly between a questionably made up Mother Teresa quote. I would like to take a moment to thank serendipity; the universe; the "Explore Posts" section of Instagram; and last, but most certainly not least, my inability to get out of bed in the morning without conducting a full debrief of every social media site I belong to, for this precious gift. And to the young lady who had the courage to display this deeply insightful photo, may you, your new nose, and Mother Teresa continue to change the world. NAMASTE.

 . . .

I feel I would be remiss by not starting off by saying a few words to commemorate the life of the late and Great, Big Ang:

Dear Big Ang,

While I never became a consistent, loyal viewer of Mob Wives (which I’m now feeling a little remorseful about), please know that while it was faint, your presence was felt in my life, as well as countless others’. Without you, where would Kylie Jenner have gotten her lip-spiration? Without the Drunken Monkey, where would the local Guidos and Guidettes get shitfaced off of SKYY Vodka+ sugar-free Redbulls? The world will truly never be the same without your new(ish) platinum blonde coif, boobs the size of Jupiter, lips as plump as a fresh Firestone tire, and skin so tan that if we didn’t know you were a full-blooded Italian, your race would be virtually undetectable. May you rest in everlasting peace, surrounded by fur, diamonds, chocolate martinis and meatballs made of gold.

Love Always,

Gwyn

 

Coincidentally, the items I originally planned to discuss in this post seem like things our dearly departed friend would appreciate.

This Ivanka Trump fur vest is easily the best thing to come out of the Trump family! Can't get enough fur lately (faux, obviously because I'm not a total monster). Found this at Nordstrom Rack and it had to be mine. I was really going for Chanel Oberlin, (I wore this outfit yesterday, HELLO, Chanel-O-Wednesday) but let's not take the focus off of Ang. It's the least we can do.

I truly wish I could wear this Pillow as an outfit. I really feel like it emulates the vibe I'm trying to give off. 

This is a lamp. I have no fucking clue what kind of light bulb it takes, so for now it's just a glorious cylindrical presence but I really feel like it's helping the feng shui in my bedroom. Sometimes I'll just lay in bed and stare at it. And yes, that is a framed photo of John Krasinski with a PERSONALIZED note written on it. Love you forever, and always, Jim Halpert.

Well, this has been fun, but I'm STARVING and I just realized that there is a Bachelor wedding AND 20 year recap (aka Chris Harrison going on a self-indulgent rant for 2 hours) I haven't watched yet, so with that being said it's time to pour a dirty martini, slip into my FANCIEST lounge wear and celebrate. MAZEL TOV, Jade and Tanner.... I'm sure your marriage will last for many, MANY years, as most romances that started on Bachelor In Paradise do.

XO,

G

 

 

 

 

 

PARDON MY FRENCH.

HELLO. Happy, HAPPY Thursday. Finally. 

This week has been...hmmmm 700 years long. Yeah? I'm currently in my most natural element: LEISURE-wear & Uggs on, Christmas lights (justtt the notch below tacky) lit, candle LIT, Tito's EXTRA dirty martini poured, Bravo ON (mute because I'm listening to the tail-end of Straight Up with Stassi...one of my 2 fave podcasts). Danielle Staub (aka Jafar aka Beverly Ann Merill) of Real Housewives of New Jersey seasons 1 & 2 is writing a tell-all book (LOVE that crazy bitch). All is WELL in the world. Verrrrrry serenity now. Maybe its the Tito's talking....ANYWHO!

I'm not sure where to start. I've gotten some feedback from my mother and 2nd mother (my bf's mom) that I've been swearing too much on GDJ. Mostly dropping F bombs excessively. I, PERSONALLY, just think it's the way I speak, and the way I speak is the way I type, but because I RESPECT AND LOVE these ladies (HAY BRIDGE, HAY MARY!), I'll try to cut down. At the same time I will NEVER be the kind of person who says "Oh, FUDGE!" when something doesn't go my way. Sorry. I just CAN'T with that lifestyle. WHAT I CAN with, is a good old Yiddish alternative. Thank God I can fall back onto my 40% Jewish heritage and just call everything FARKAKTE. 

In an attempt to make amends, I purchased this Loungy sweatshirt from Old Navy (currently part of my leisure uniform this evening).

IN THE SPIRIT of addressing all things FARKAKTE .... I can't NOT bring up Oprah's newest Weight Watcher's commercial, where she climbs to the top of a mountain and OPRAH-YELLS her love for bread in THE most awkward way possible. Just thinking about it makes me break out in hives/start rocking myself in the fetal position. OPRAH: It's called buy a loaf of ezekiel bread and SHUT UP. Watch it for yourself, and be sure to cover the entire surface of your body in Benadryl cream beforehand because you, too, will probably have a rash within the first 4.5 seconds. Click Here for Hives

THAT was reallllllly hard to write w/o properly swearing. 

NEXT.......KANYE. Uhhhhh. CALM. THE F. DOWN. The day Kanye makes me want to send an edible arrangement to Wiz Khalifa, Amber Rose and their adorable son, you know he did something wrong. He makes me want to rip my skin off and listen to My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy on loop all at the same time. Pass the Benadryl cream with a side of Hennessy. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about just google "Kanye/Wiz Twitter Battle...)

I have sooo much more to whine about, but I think I'll save it for another post so I don't sound like a total FARBISSINA (Thanks to my spirit animal, Jackie Schimmel for this one).

Time to chug a water, make another dirty martini, and maybe watch an episode of Long Island Medium???? OH side note, so I can REALLY end things positively: I'm obsessed with Tyler Henry aka the Hollywood Medium (I guess I love Mediums). I want to keep him in my purse.

OK, TIL NEXT TIME!

XO,
G

 

HI

HAPPY MONDAY, people.

Not really. It's a known fact Mondays are useless. Said it before, I'll say it again. I'm coping with a homemade dirty martini. There's literally NOTHING I hate more than a motivational quote on a Monday morning. No, I will not "rise and grind"... ugh. Or like..." she turned her cannots into I CAN'S!" Shut. The FUCK UP. Mondays were made for throwing on a pair of UGGS, hair that's like a day overdue for a wash, drinking 7,000 coffees and no breakfast, binge watching mindless TV shows (HOW MANY MORE DAYS TIL THE BACHELOR??), immediately getting back ON the wagon via a (stolen) glass of Ketel One with olives, or a few glasses of Pinot Noir, and like, MAYBE having a few double stuffed oreos and a quadruple order of beignets à la preggo Kim Kardashian, and that's it. Like if I want to be a productive member of society...I'll get to that on TUESDAY.

A few things to address: 

a) I NEED Gwen Stefani's makeup artist to move in with me full time IMMEDIATELY. I mean, actually, Gwen, you're more than welcome to come too, you little angel face! Fuck it, lets have the whole cast of the voice come. I'm convinced that once I make it big, Pharrell will be my personal Deepak Chopra. I'd post a pic to convey the magic that is Gwen's face every week on the voice, but last time I posted a pic of a celebrity (well 2 years ago) I almost got SUED. That's a different story for a later date once it's all settled. Let's just say from now on, I'll only be using photos of my own, taken by my precious iPhone 6. 

b) I also need to get to Kourtney Kardashian's post 3rd baby weight like yesterday. Bitch is literally the same size as her 3 year old daughter, Penelope, and I'm jeallll. 2016 goals (because let's be serious this is NOT the time of year to be living off of steamed kale infused lemon water and ghee shots). Also...is she really getting belieb'd? Come on Kourt... I know LD was kind of a prick (albeit, he's getting hotter with age)...BUT do you really think b'bair is going to be a suitable stepdad? At least LD can grow facial hair. And like, the TODD KRAINES prank STILL makes me giggle. We'll keep our eye on this one.

c) hmmm. I'm not sure I have anything left to say. Except I kind of wish I had a podcast?

WELL, until next time.

XO,

G

 

 

 

 

 

BONJOUR & BIENVENUE...

...To the NEW and improved GDJ! I've missed my little spot on the interwebz! I decided to take a quick hiatus...partially because I wanted to REVAMP the look and feel of GDJ... 

MOVING ON....a few highlights from over the weekend, that once again, went by WAY too fast.

My boyf and I had a LITTLE trouble getting the day started on Saturday... I have NO excuses seeing as my Friday evening consisted of a bottle of wine, Scream Queens (I NEED TO BE CHANEL #6), and being dead asleep by 11:30...BUT eventually, after about 6 episodes of Below Deck on Bravo (weirdly addictive), we mustered up the energy to walk over to Local 149 for a 3PM brunch and cocktail...which was immediately followed by 4 more episodes of Below Deck...OOPS! I obviously had to take advantage of the chalk/table sitch for a little shameless self-promo.

SUNDAY was spent at my place of worship....NORDSTROM, obvs (SORRY MOM!) A) because I needed a few more fall goodiezzz, and B) AND MOST OF ALL - I quite literally CANNOT with 7 hours of football. Will I fux with a Pats game? Yes. an entire work day's worth.....NOPE. CAN'T and WON'T. Perhaps I'll do a little post on my findings.

Caught a cute little pic of the city running an errand on Sunday night...it was pitch black about 4 seconds later :( ....DAYLIGHT, DON'T LEAVE!

TIL NEXT TIME!

XO,

G