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.
If your beauty routine doesn’t have a soundtrack, what are you even doing with your life? This is honestly one of my most favorite Glam Jamz of all time, if not for the music, then for the explanations. This one comes courtesy of Caitlin White, a music writer I’ve been stalking on Twitter for like, months. To be honest I’m pretty sure we only follow each other on Twitter because we’re both really pretty girls with an intense dislike of HAIM.
Caitlin, by her own account, likes puppies and poetry but hates phonies. She lives in praise of the mysteries. These are her own words:
Thick hair: I need it thick, I like it thick, and I want it thick, and these products GIVE IT TO ME, all the time and everywhere.
For the record: THESE ARE NOT DRY SHAMPOOS. These are hair texturizers, and while SOME dry shampoos act more like texturizers than cleansers, that is not the point of these products. These babies are to your hair what salted rims are to a margarita: VERY NECESSARY. These give you that coveted “second day” hair – or in my case, the coveted “sex hair” look. AWW YEAH.
“If you were sad, what would you buy at Sephora?”
My knee-jerk answer to this is obvious: hello, EVERYTHING, duh! It’s no secret that shopping can be therapeutic, and what’s more therapeutic than buying beauty products that promise to make you look like you HAVEN’T been crying for days?
I’m having the worst effing summer.
The kind of summer that has been knocked me out, dragged me down, and taken everything with it – including my shoes.
When my friend Lola asked me the above question, it inspired me to start blogging again. Thank her for that.
Put a twinkle in your eye with rhinestones, not tears. Faux Lash Tiny Stars Lashes, $12
The other day I was hangin’ out at a friend’s house when she asked me to do her makeup. I didn’t really want to (I was being lazy) so I protested for a bit, lamenting that I didn’t have my makeup brushes with me. Obvs, I can’t do makeup without my trusted makeup brushes. Naturally, and I should have seen this coming, she offered up her set of brushes for me to use.
Well, this is where things get nasty. Like, real nasty.
I opened up her brush roll to see a full collection of MAC makeup brushes that I’d guess originally had white bristles. I couldn’t tell since they were all caked in various shades of shadow. I picked one up and lightly tapped it; the amount of product stuck in it made me throw up in my mouth a little. I said, “Girl, when is the last time you washed these? They’re NASTY.”
She was a bit taken aback and defended herself; “I wash them all the time!”
“Do you wash them WITH makeup? Because as far as I can tell, these haven’t been washed in months.”
I have over 100 makeup brushes; if I can manage to keep that many clean, you have no excuse!
A few days ago, I updated my Facebook’s cover photo with this:
That’s a screen shot from the unrated video for Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines,” a damn sexy song featuring the doesn’t-ever-age Pharell. Obviously, I edited the image a bit because let’s be real….
I do have a big dick. Two inches… from the ground, baby. NO LIES. Hours after I uploaded it, Carmen Electra released a new song titled “Bigger Dick” that made me feel like everything in life is kismet.
In an interview with LA Weekly, Electra calls the song “a campy homage to how modern women are ‘coming up and taking over.’” I simply call the song “the theme song to my life.”
I love the lyrics, I love the fact that my life becomes an instant party whenever I play the song, and in general, it’s a fun, poppy, tongue-in-cheek dance song that makes reference to lipstick – what more could you ask for?