that fashion show…

So, there’s that little thing called the VS Fashion Show tonight that usually sparks a variety of reactions. It’s understandable when you have a slew of attractive women in lingerie stomping down a runway with pop tunes in the background. Reactions land everywhere and in between outrage, love, jealousy, hate, shame, and shade. For me, I enjoy it for the makeup, the flawless wave-curl, and pretending I could rock such extravagant wings. Seriously, I need a pair for no reason at all. Where would I even wear them?

I could get into the whole debate about beauty standards, unattainable goals, and the small percentage of women who naturally look like the angels…and I will. But, only because I think those things are worth mentioning. I’ve said it before, I could never be a kid growing up nowadays. I’m happy I had the 90’s. Those were some good years. Today’s standards of beauty seem so unachievable, even with movements showcasing beauty in all sizes, the idea of ‘thin beauty’ still exists, and can be seen right on the VS stage. It must send a mixed message to a young girl when she sees these gorgeous women, but then hears that they’re ‘not real’.

It’s such a touchy subject because you have so many opinions, fears, and objections thrown around all at once. I was a stick thin girl growing up, always being told I had to put meat on my bones, being accused of having eating disorders (did they not understand my love of cheetos?!), and having to deal with body image troubles. Now, when I sometimes tell my story, I get hit with ‘sooo, you were still thin’ because thin was, and still is, considered desirable. My case does not stand out, nor is it above anyone else’s, but the sad thing is that we all have cases. We have all struggled. Yet, we accuse each other and judge each other, when we’re all really in the same boat. Or sinking ship. Either way, there’s a hole there. We’re basically saying the same things, just in different shapes and sizes. What sucks is that society and media are telling us otherwise. We can’t win.

And it can’t be easy seeing those bronzed beauties glide across our screens. But, maybe we should take a step back, judgment aside, and take it for what it’s worth. There is beauty there. There are real women there.  And those wings.


another month closer…

January has come and gone in a way too blustery, arctic way. It is freezing in Buffalo, and we’re used to miserable and cold, so that’s saying a lot. At the beginning of the new year I talked about my countdown to thirty and learning to embrace the age. Luckily, to take my mind of the impending doom, a couple of my friends and I have decided to plan a summer vaca to Italy, Greece, and Morocco to finish out our twenties.

I like to travel. I like to see more of the world than western new york. It adds to my perspective that not everyone is an American idiot, sort of kidding, I’m sure you’re not one of those. I miss old Green Day.

Anyways, I’ve been to Europe twice before, once when I was 22 all wide-eyed and lost, and again when I was 27 all cool and cultured.  The first time I went to Wales, England, France, and Ireland. My mom told me to tell everyone I was Canadian because she was losing her mind that her only child would be across the pond free to be taken. Sidenote: the movie Taken came out after I left Paris, which was a good thing because I was the blonde one in our group of two who couldn’t speak French and always looked lost. But, everyone knew we were American just by looking at us.

The second time I spent two weeks in London, trying desperately to blend in with the peoples. I went with a group of college students, and they stuck out like a sore arm, yea, that much. I try to fit in so that a.) people don’t take advantage of me, two.) maybe someone would offer me a job and I’d just have to stay for life, and/or d.) I meet a guy because that’s supposed to happen in every city you go to, thanks for that one Mary-Kate and Ashley. (I am not ashamed to say that Winning London is a favorite of mine)

So, I need some adventure in my life. Also some sweet, sweet wine and Greek gods food.

Have you been to Italy, Greece, or Morocco? Do you have any travel tips to share?

the facebook overshare.

According to the social media person at my work, young kids these days aren’t on facebook. They actually don’t even know what it is, or if they do, they say it’s for old people…a.k.a us. And I see what those kids mean by that.

What used to be a fun college site to creep on crushes, and find new ‘friends’ has turned into what I like to call the facebook overshare. Who wants to read about your medical history, uninformed opinions, and/or overly dramatic situations? All the cares are gone when I have to see a long, drawn out post about what you had for dinner. Status updates are now grammatically incorrect paragraphs about political, religious, and/or self-righteous views.

I find myself wanting to copy and paste ‘cool story bro, tell it again‘ on every awful status I see. And I don’t even use that phrase, but it seems appropriate. On facebook, everything is a big deal. You had to get your car fixed today and it was a hassle? Greeeat. You know there are people sick and dying out there, but oh no, your ‘bad day’ is a priority that you just had to share.

Have some perspective, adults. The kids are starting to look like intellectuals compared to us.


the what if.


I don’t know about you, but ever since I graduated college, the second time, I find myself frequently asking the question what if? I suppose when you reach that point where you’ve finished school, and you’re life becomes a monotonous reel of work. sleep, eat, repeat, you start to think about what your life would look like had you just done things a bit differently. Granted, the present isn’t so bad, but the what if?..

I’m not sure why I’m so plagued by that thought. Just the slightest interruption a few years ago could have changed the course. It could have been something I said, or didn’t say. It could have been someone I met, or didn’t meet. It could have been a major event, or just a fluke happening, a rogue action.

If I let them, those thoughts could consume me. How do I know that what I’m doing right now in this very moment is what I was meant to be doing? What if the path changed years ago and I just didn’t realize it? Personally, I do not believe in coincidence. Maybe I have M. Night Shyamalan to blame for that. Signs anyone? Constant questions that have no answers, and can never be answered. How insufferable.

Well played, universe.