Let’s face it: my diet of tacos and tequila isn’t exactly going to stave off diabetes. So, I work out. I work out in a gym, a 24-Hour Fitness that is actually open 24 hours, because I keep strange hours and hiking the Griffith Observatory at midnight isn’t what I’d call safe. When I tell people (girls, specifically) that I workout in a co-ed gym, this is usually the response I get:
“OMG aren’t you embarrassed? Can’t people see you in the windows working out? I don’t want people to see me working out. What if there’s a cute boy? Or god what if someone sees my fat jiggling? What if I’m doing it wrong?”
Every. Single. Time. What is up with girls being weird about their bodies? KNOCK IT OFF. Look, when I’m working out, I am WAY more concerned with not hitting myself in the face with my boobs as I run on a treadmill – not because I care if someone sees it, but because I don’t want to DIE. So here you go: this is what I notice while working out. None of it involves anybody else’s jiggle.
Brenda (Bette Midler): Aren’t you frustrated? You climb + climb + go nowhere.
Elise (Goldie Hawn): I love it! Burns off the booze.
Ohmygod – it’s February! Valentine’s Day is nigh! I’ve been searching high and low (mostly high) for those naughty conversation hearts so I can give them away to my crushes. GR8 PKG, U R SEXY, HOT 4 U… Obviously, I like to keep it subtle. Maybe one will even get lucky and get to see me in my lingerie, meow…
Speaking of lingerie! Remember when I waxed ecstatic about AdoreMe? Well, now it’s time for me to give the gift that keeps on giving, and no, I’m not talking about glitter-covered anything.
Filed under GIRL TALK, STYLE
I go through beauty products like I go through men, whiskey, wine, hair colors, phones… Well, like I go through everything: quickly, passionately, quick to love, quick to hate, always looking for the next best thing. Well, below, some of my greatest finds and discoveries of January. I owe these products all the appreciative looks I got from hotties last month ;)
For the past 5 years, my new years’ resolutions have all been the same: wear more glitter. If you do the math, this was obviously before Ke$ha became the glittery boss bitch she is today (“Tik Tok” would debut 6 months later). This year, I decided to change it up, and yes, it involves my hair.
Truer words have never been said
The first year I made my glitter resolution was 2009; I was sick, unemployed, unhappy, bored with my life and in the midst of the most miserable relationship I’ve ever been in. The idea of wearing more glitter seemed like a type of salvation. The resolution was literal as well as figurative: I wanted to find myself in situations worth wearing glitter for, like an all-night dance party marathon; looking back, I can see I just desperately wanted and needed to add some sparkle to my dull life.
I’ve been on the search for a new colorist for the better part of a year, looking for a one who specializes in “fantasy” hair color. In early November, my hair was black (3 inches of grown out roots), with blue panels throughout. I wanted to touch up the black and add more blue. After some research and a few recommendations, I made an appointment at trim., a boutique salon on Rose Ave in Venice (they also have a location on Abbott Kinney).
Big mistake. Big. HUGE.
You know what happens when I experience an unpleasant salon experience? I end up on my parents’ couch eating my weight in carbs. Should’ve just bought new shoes. Would have been cheaper in the long run. Ugh.
Image via salon’s website
Here’s something you probably didn’t know about me: I have big boobs. Yes, it’s true. Big, beautiful, nicely cleavaged breastasis. You’d think I’d be rewarded for blessing the general population with my awesome cleavage, but what do I get?
Ugly ass ridiculously expensive bullshit bras that fall apart after 2 wears.
If there’s a #bustygirlproblem more prevalent and annoying than finding a bra that fits, isn’t stupid expensive, and is actually nice to look at, I don’t know it. Oh, ADORE ME, you couldn’t have come into my life any sooner. Actually, yes, you could have.
So it’s officially NO SHAVE NOVEMBER, and we all know how I feel about #noshavenovember (a do for men, a don’t for Bren), but I’m actually a huge supporter of Movember. If you’re not familiar with Movember, it’s a movement that encourages dudes to grow mustaches in an effort to raise money for prostate cancer research. It’s one of the more creative anti-cancer movements out there.
Now, don’t get me wrong – I totes hate mustaches. They’re never not creepy. But as a cancer survivor, I’m down for any cool movement/charity/event that supports cancer awareness and raises money for research… and brings me awesome music while doin’ it.
Filed under ETC, LA LIVIN'
I have the worst headache in the world right now. I blame the 2 margaritas and the 3 mezcal cocktails I had at YXTA last night… and the Ketel rocks and 2 Stellas I had at the Echo as well… and going to bed at 2:30am with a 6am wakeup call. I woke up holding a piece of bread, guys. Rough night. As my mother threw me off her couch this morning, she cheerfully pointed out, “Who gets home at 2:30 in the morning on a Monday at your age? Buscandoing en la calles!”
She’s right. By the way, I totally love it when my mother speaks broken Spanish to me, because I have no idea what she’s saying. I don’t love it when she yells at me that early when I’m that hungover. It’s my fault for crashing at the parentals’ house last night, but whatever.
The door of the women’s bathroom at YXTA, because why not?
I am a terrible blogger. I LOVE my blog with all of my glittery heart, but I just… haven’t been paying much attention to it. It’s rude, I know, because I like to write it and you like to read it, so it’s basically bad manners to ditch it for so long. Right? Like what kind of selfish bitch says, I’M HAVING THE MOST TERRIBLE SUMMER WAH WAH WAH FEEL SORRY FOR ME BECAUSE MY LIFE IS SO HARD I HAVE SO MANY WHITE GIRL PROBLEMS AND I’M NOT EVEN WHITE then just totally disappears?
…This one, apparently. Oops.
Between my freelance life, my social life, and looking at apartment porn/pictures of Adam Levine, I just haven’t had much time to write. I was lamenting this fact in an email to my friend AJ – also a badass blogger – and she was like, “Bitch you need to blog about not blogging, if only for the sake of blogging!”
Okay maybe she didn’t call me a bitch, but she could have. I take it as a term of endearment. So, here’s what’s new.
Coloring Book Ryan Gosling meets Paperdoll Bren. She took all his money and left him. #meetcute!
Ladies, we need to talk about the second-worst beauty sin of all time: the dreaded line of demarcation.
This is the line where your actual skin color meets your mismatched foundation color, usually on your jawline. It occurs because you didn’t blend your ish right and you’re wearing the wrong shade.
According to a study done by the kind of people that have time and money to conduct studies, the #1 challenge associated with foundation itself is finding the right shade, followed closely by incorrectly applying foundation and neglecting to update your shade when your coloring changes. In fact, skin coloring can change by up to four shades at different times of the year. This is especially prevalent in my native LA, where the constantly sunny weather can easily change the shade of your skin in as little time as it takes you to get down Sunset during rush hour.