The New Classics


When it comes to makeup, I'm not the most experimental person on the planet. I have my moments - like, say, when a babysitter arrives early and I can actually sift through my makeup bag as opposed to grab at things on autopilot. And sure, once in awhile I'll break out a silver liquid eyeliner or some neon eyeshadow...but mostly (like most women), I've got my routine, and tend to order the same products over and over and over.

They are these:

  • MAC Studio Fix Powder-Plus-Foundation. I have used this product to even my skin tone (no need for concealer or foundation or anything else) for YEARS. I have no idea whether it's because it's great or because I know my color (C3) and just reordering it online whenever I run out means I don't have to stand in a department store being swabbed by a makeup artist insisting that my undertones are chartreuse. I don't care what my undertones are. I just want my Studio Fix, 'kay?
  • Sephora Liquid Eyeliner. I started buying this product because it had the exact kind of brush I like (super thin and flexible) and because it was about nine bucks at the time. Spoiler: it is no longer nine bucks. But I still buy it and use it every day.
  • Lip Balm. I've been on a no-lipstick kick for...I dunno, maybe a couple of years now? I don't really care what kind of lip balm I use (although this one is my favorite), so long as I always have some close by, because OY do my lips get dry fast.

Other products I use every single day (or at least every single day I put on makeup, which, as it turns out, is no longer every single day): brown eyebrow powder, a NARS eyeshadow palette, and mascara (if I don't have eyelash extensions at the moment).


Links & Love & Stuff

My angel. (IG @ramshackleglam)

I spent a few days last week visiting my in-laws in Ohio so they could spend some time with the kids, and do you know what I got to do while I was there? See a movie. By myself. And then take a casual stroll around Old Navy. BY MYSELF. (I picked up the floral henley pictured on my daughter above and a collared shirt that my son might actually deign to wear.)

 One more thing I found on that Old Navy trip (and the only reason I haven't mentioned this perfection yet is that it deserves its own post, but I have been extremely unphotogenic for the past four days, let's just do it): this absolutely must-have long-sleeved top. It is entirely unexciting, but is also now the only thing in my closet that I want to wear. It is 100% cotton, and soft, and the perfect shape, and cozy, and goes with everything, and you need to own it. Especially since it's like ten bucks. (Really.)

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Spouse-Accommodating, In Blanket Form

Get off my fancy new bed, Virgil. 

Kendrick is freezing.

This makes no sense, because our house is not, but apparently our internal thermostats are set to Opposite. All I want is a nice, gentle gust of fresh air, but it turns out that what I think of as "a refreshing cross-breeze" translates to "arctic blast" in Kendrick-speak. In the summer, what this means is that I sleep with no covers and six fans pointed in my direction while he huddles under the coverlet to guard against the 80-degree evening chill. In the winter, we are at an impasse. Because fiiiiine, I'll close the windows and shut down the whole spectacularly lovely, breezy situation that our bedroom has the potential to enjoy, but even with the windows closed and a comforter on our bed, I routinely wake up to discover that my husband has pulled two or three extra blankets out of the linen closet and is ensconced underneath them as if he's preparing for a new Ice Age.


All Dressed Up

French Quarter | New Orleans

Joie Top (similar) | Vintage Velvet Pants (similar) | Gucci Sunnies | Gucci Bag

I talk a lot lately about how I'm over getting dressed up, how I never want to wear heels again, how I feel best in a t-shirt and shorts. All this is true. But for our New Orleans trip, I thought it'd be fun to bring a bunch of pieces that sit all forlorn and unworn in my closet for months (or years) on end because there is virtually nowhere that I go in my normal life where I can wear them. New Orleans has always seemed to me like the kind of city that lets you do and be and wear anything you want, so for a few days I thought I'd


About That “Locker Room Talk” Thing

For many years, I thought my experiences of sexual assault were normal. But now, thanks to Donald Trump, I can finally admit that they're #notokay.

A lot of statements that Donald Trump has made over the past several months have made me furious. But none, I think, more than his dismissal of the statements he made on that video (the one that by now we've all seen and discussed ad infinitum) as "locker room talk." The moment the words left his mouth, I wanted to scream.

I'm going to get really personal in this one in ways that aren't easy for me, so let's start in a place we can all recognize: the college frat. At Harvard (at the time I was there, at least), we didn't really have fraternities and sororities; our campus social life revolved instead around institutions called "final clubs." They resembled the Greek system in nearly every way, save for the fact that they were only open to men. And the fact that a relatively small group of men held the reins of their university's nightlife had exactly the results you'd expect: they admitted girls to their clubs (or dismissed them) as they saw fit, rejected non-member male students entirely, and essentially behaved however they wanted to, secure in the knowledge that they were protected by decades - even centuries - of tradition (not to mention some extremely deep pockets).


Um That Is An Alligator

Honey Island Swamp | New Orleans

We started our second day in New Orleans on a party bus - as all good days should obviously start - and drove out to Honey Island Swamp for a close encounter with some alligators. And when I say "close encounter," I mean hi that alligator is twelve inches away and slamming against our boat because he REALLY would like to eat that marshmallow and right now thanks. Fortunately, the alligators were way more interested in said marshmallows than in our fingers (which we were nevertheless warned to please keep inside the railings, as they apparently “look like hot dogs”).

Fingers behind the railings. Check.


Easy Upgrades (Or: How Not To Nag Your Kids About Brussels Sprouts)


I try to think about things like planning out perfectly balanced meals...

(but I’d much rather smooch this one).

I am not exactly the healthiest eater on the planet - I think we’ve established this by now. It’s not that I eat (or even want to eat) tons of junk; it’s more that I tend to be an “eat what’s there” kind of person, even if “what’s there” is “whatever my children left on their plates.” You know my ginger shots? Those are not happening lately. Given our schedules at the moment, the mincing and straining of ginger does not sound like a fun way to spend my three free seconds.