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Guest Post

angel food cake, mofos!

By: admin
22-02-2012
Food, Guest Post

(image of me in my new Hugh & Crye shirt)

Last weekend it’s my brother’s birthday. My brother loves him some Angel Food cake, which is actually news to me having known him for 26 years, but his wife of 7 months said it, so it must be true.

So anyway, he freaking loves Angel Food cake and on Saturday we have a nice dinner planned to celebrate at his place and I decide I only have one option: to bake him and the other five guests some motherf—in’ Angel Food cake! You read that right: having never even attempted to bake this before, and not even really ever liking this g-damn cake, I decide that there’s only one option and that’s for me to bake some motherf—in’ Angel Foodcake and serve that ish up.

I get a g-damn recipe online. My girlfriend sends it to me, which means I know it’s gonna be sweet (boom!). I have friends bring some ingredients. (Cream of tartar? Check! Vanilla extract [or extract of your choice]? Check! One dozen eggs? Check! Cake flour [which, yes, is different from regular flour]? Check! A whole bunch of other shit? Check!)

I get to their place well in advance of dinnertime because the prep time on this biotch is a solid 55 minutes. I have all the ingredients, which is a relief. I even have access to a awesome Cuisinart thingamabob that can whip up things and looks like the Ferrari of kitchen utensils and seriously makes me want to get married right now so I can put ish like this on my registry—just like they did (although, due to cabinet space, they had to bring it out of their basement, so I guess there can be too much of a good thing). The Ferrari/Cuisinart purrs like a kitten.

The next 45 minutes are a complete blur. I am in my baking dojo. I am so focused and smooth that nothing can stop me and my legs feel vaguely numb. I believe this to be what athletes refer to as “being in The Zone.” (Still in recovery from a recent operation, I am also extremely high on Vicodin, but that’s another story—I’ll only add that midway through dinner I announced to my brother, without irony, that I felt like angels had gently blown into my heart.)

So I’m shirtless but with an apron on (because a stain on my new white shirt from Banana Republic would seriously send me up the wall). I’m separating egg whites from their yolks using only my bare hands which isn’t necessarily erotic, per se, but definitely has a certain je ne sais quois feeling to it.

Then I’m beating some batter. Only I can’t really call it “batter” because it’s not that thick. The recipe calls for me to beat this until it has “medium peaks.” I have NO F—ING IDEA what this means. Someone else at the house has a vague idea, but I don’t really pay any mind: sometimes the modern American man has to do things his own way. So I’m beating away and pouring stuff into the Cuisinart while it’s spinning around and sugar is flying all over the room—it’s looking like Pablo Escobar just sneezed, har har har. And if you had laid eyes on me and my Angel Food cake operation at this stage of the game you would have bet money that this was going to turn into a genuine disaster. (And—spoiler alert!—you would have been sorely f—ing mistaken.)

Am I going to mess around with an “ungreased tube pan”? Haha, think again. We don’t have an ungreased tube pan. I don’t even know where you’d get an ungreased tube pan (and right now Microsoft Word is telling me that “ungreased” isn’t a real word, so you can imagine my perplexedness). I am putting it in the same type of pan that you would put a normal cake in because that’s what we have and sometimes the Modern American Man has to play with the cards he’s dealt.

I put the nascent cake in the oven. I put the oven of 350. I press “start.”

And I wait.

Actually, I don’t wait. I take a pound of sliced strawberries and put them on the stove. They are f—ing fresh. They are f—ing tasty. They are sugary f—ing sweet and their tastiness actually nearly brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it. I am making a smooth, sweet, syrupy strawberry compote that we are going to drizzle over our Angel Food cake ever so f—ing gently. I learned how to make strawberry compote when I was living alone in the Amazon because the strawberries sometimes tasted like kerosene and it was pretty much a good idea to boil anything you ate down there. So I put it on the stovetop, which is electric, not gas, but I can deal. I add in some water. I sprinkle in some sugar. A little while later the strawberries are erotically delicious and ready.


(images taken by my iPhone, please don’t judge)

The cake is ready, too. It is golden brown on top. It has had to cool upside down (!) for an hour, which caused some duress when we realized there is not cooling rack to be found, but I improvise and it’s all good.

I take it to the table. I slice that shit. I put the slices on people’s plates. I invite them to drizzle some strawberry compote on top and to feel free not to skimp because there is seriously enough compote for all of us tonight and we’ll still have enough left over for your motherf—in’ flapjacks in the morning.

 

And first my brother says it’s the best Angel Food cake he’s ever had. The. Best. Ever. Although he’s apparently some sort of Angel Food cake aficionado, he’s also my brother, so I’m not sure if he’s just saying it. But then everyone else at the table confirms: It is tasty; it is moist; it is sweet; it is perfect; it is an Angel Food cake that could… make the angels weep.

xoxox,

Grigs

*************

J. Grigsby Crawford considers himself more of an artist than a writer. He also hates pretentiousness. He prefers baking to other forms of cooking because while the food is in the oven he can wash the dishes that he’s just messied and by the time the baked good is ready, the kitchen is spick and span. Seriously, he can’t stand the sight of messy cooking utensils.

Have any other recipes you think he might like? Post it below in the comments section and he’ll bake that s*** up, too! This is Mr. Crawford’s third blog post for TYF.

*After completing this post, it came to light that the Ferrari of kitchen gizmos was not actually a Cuisinart but, in fact, a KitchenAid© product. Take that for what it’s worth.


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a wrinkle in your plans: the truth about non-iron shirts.

By: Katalina
30-01-2012
Guest Post, Mens Fashion

 

We know that the Modern American Man is now working harder and earning less. So perhaps it makes sense that when it comes to his wardrobe he should allow himself to do a lot less while spending a little more.

Right?

Wrong.

I’m referring, of course, to non-iron dress shirts. In case you’re unfamiliar, these are dress shirts that can be laundered right at home and come out of the dryer wrinkle-free and ready to wear to work. Goodbye wrinkles! Goodbye trips to the dry cleaner! And hello to convenience, ease, and the phenomenal feeling of pulling a dress shirt out of the wash, hanging it, and having it dry… sans wrinkles!

It’s like magic.

And by “magic”, of course, I mean that before being sold to you and rubbed all over your body and sweated into your pores, the shirts are dipped in a formaldehyde solution—yes, the same formaldehyde normally associated with cadavers and high school biology class fetal dissections.

(Now let me just pause for a moment here to say: The purpose of this column is to dissuade readers from the false promise that is non-iron dress shirts. I have a few arguments to make, but if the prospect of a bathing your Brooks Brothers button-down in carcinogenic chemicals isn’t already enough to make you stop dead in your tracks, then there’s probably nothing else in the world I can do to convince you otherwise. So you may as well stop reading now and just go tell your friends about some asshole fashion blogger who was using “scare” tactics. That’s fine [but if you do, please still “like” us on facebook!].)

So yes, there are some freaky chemicals in your non-iron getup. Is it true that we more or less spend our lives surrounded by low levels of toxins that may-or-may-not be killing us? Of course. But people also once thought that cigarettes and cocaine were peachy keen. Who knows what we’ll know by the time we finally know it. For now, at least, nothing’s healthier than a little skepticism.

(The first time I was exposed to the wrinkle-free phenomenon was probably a decade ago in a commercial for Dockers slacks that were wrinkle-free and also, if I can recall correctly, stain resistant [!]. It was a surreal commercial in which things like red wine were being spilled all over khakis at an alarming rate and simply being brushed off with no discernable residue. The mind simply reels at whatever was in those pants to make them resistant to so many of the terrors of everyday life; suffice to say I’m fine with my slacks, too, having slightly less technology built into them than was used on the suits for the Apollo Missions.)

But if you’re one of those people who doesn’t give a shit about chemicals (and I know there are lots of you because I see you every week in the pharmacy buying crazy shit like “antiperspirants” [which are considered a bodily-function-altering drug by the FDA—just sayin’]) I have a few other deathblows to the non-iron fetish.

Comfort: Whether a summer swelter or a winter freeze, the wrinkle-free fabric will also be comfort-free. Because of the chemical bond formed in the fabric, the shirts breath less and are rougher on the skin. Let me put it this way: last summer I was wearing one of these puppies to a job interview during the D.C. heat wave and when I got back to my apartment, sweating and delirious, my soaked (but unwrinkled!) shirt was so thoroughly stuck to my body that I thought I was going to wilt away a la that girl in the movie Goldfinger who gets painted to death.

Fit: Also because of the chemicals, there is really no such thing as “breaking in” these bad boys. If, like me, you’re a guy who buys shirts with a 16-1/2” neck (which is actually a monster of a neck for a guy of my build, but that’s another story and this sizing part is all relative) but who can also wear a 16” and whose actual size is probably more like a 16-1/4”, then with non-iron shirts you will never have the luxury of buying that 16-1/2” and having it shrink ever so slightly down to your actual size. No sir: that non-wrinkling collar will be Dracula-stiff at its factory setting until the day you give it to Goodwill in disgust.

My suggestions: Find the time in your life to iron. If you can’t, then you’re too busy. If you’re too busy to set aside that time each week to do the mundane but semi-Zen task of ironing then you have more problems than lethally uncomfortable shirts (e.g. time management).

Senna ($85)/Trafalgar ($115)/ The Shoomaker ($85). Perfect non-iron shirts all from Hugh & Crye. 

My final advice for when you’re in a pinch with a wrinkly dress shirt: vests and sweaters. They’re in. Trust me. I know everyone wants to make fun of Rick Santorum for wearing a vest, but his problem is not the vest, it’s the douche bag inside of it. And get a soft sweater; they’re nice to touch.

xoxo,

Grigs

***********************

J. Grigsby Crawford grew up in the Great American West and lives in Washington, D.C. He has two non-iron shirts in his closet, which he stares at with fear and loathing and only keeps around for “emergencies.” His writing has appeared in Congressional Quarterly, The Colorado Daily, and Mile High Sports Magazine; he’s also written a book about his life for two years in the Ecuadorian Amazon and is currently looking for a literary agent. This is his second guest post for TheYouFinder.


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mix and match nine pieces for your office wardrobe.

By: admin
18-01-2012
Guest Post, Style Inspiration, Womens Fashion

Hello all.  My name is Vanessa, many call me, V.  A love for the uniquely fashionable, spirited travels, and all things delicious tended a wonderful friendship between Kata and me.  I am happy to contribute to her beautiful blog.

As a Washingtonian native, fashion and political culture equally shape me.  I offer tips for personalizing and updating traditional work-attire for a lady on a budget.

Let’s begin. 

Rich and poor, black and white, republican and democrat, opera and jazz, history and modernity:  a city once defined by lines, Washington, D.C. now thrives in the grey area.  Fashion in the nation’s capital has greatly benefitted from the ride. 

Over the years, Washington, D.C. has been injected with youth, Obama, hundreds of new restaurants, bars, dance halls and music spots.  Fashion and trendy boutiques line the streets.  Pops of red flash down the sidewalk as women hurriedly run to work with adorable matching rain boots and umbrellas.  Fashion in the work place has also evolved; albeit slower than our sense of street style.

Change is still slow, especially compared to our northern, Manhattan neighbors. Working at a government agency, boxy suits among my aged colleagues remains the trend.  Secretary of State, Hillary (I have a major friend/idol-crush on HRC), has arguably changed this to a degree.  As have fashionistas such as former Congresswoman Jane Harman, but much work is to be done. 

Today, for example, I have on a tailored suit (originally from H&M, $70; tailored for an additional $20) that has been in my closet for four years.  Paired with it, a striped button down shirt flared at the shoulders, opaque black tights and over-the-knee, black, high-heeled boots.  Conservative, yet trendy. 

Below, are three pairs of tops, bottoms, and shoes that can be worn interchangeably.  Each offers an opportunity to remain professional in chic, affordable clothing.  

White Blouse ($80)/Black Lace Top ($50)/ Salmon Blouse ($75)/ Jade Skirt ($60)/ Brown Skirt ($58)/Grey Pants ($95)/ Brown Oxford Booties ($96)/ Black Pumps ($99)/ Frilled Ankle Bootie ($70)

I highly recommend a pair of fitted, grey slacks.  Depending if you glam up or down, you can wear them twice a week without anyone noticing.  The nice thing about the ruffled salmon top paired with it – you can wear it tucked in or out.  It not only looks great either way, but transforms the style. If left untucked, throw on a boxy blazer to contrast the flowiness.  Otherwise, a cardigan softens the look.  These adorable cream colored booties will turn heads regardless. 

For the second look, I am OBSESSED with this lacey top.  As a cropped item, it is easily tucked, but on this particular outfit, I would leave it out and let the unique triangular bottom do its thing.  Pairing the structured, lace top with a more traditional bottom like this classic green skirt channels elegance. The menswear inspired booties marks the outfit with a conservative edge.  Accessorize minimally.

Personally, I like my classic shirts to have a twist of character, such as the popped shoulders displayed here; regardless, any white button down will do.  Keeping with the twist on classic theme, tucking the top into the beautifully ruched brown skirt, with its black waist line, transforms the outfit from predictable to tactfully sexy.  And those heels! LOVE!



A crisp, white button down worn snugly under those sleek grey slacks screams class.  The menswear booties elevate the look.  Personalize this outfit with whatever accessories and blazer most reflects your style.  Consider it a canvas or keep it simple.  That’s the beauty of versatility.

Earthen-ware meets Princess Di.  Enough said.

Be daring with your colors!  This delicate, flirty salmon blouse and deep green duo remind me of a 1970s Bond girl-meets-power journalist.  The pearl, feather shaped booties round out the outfit.  For an extra slick factor, try a cream colored, structured pea coat.

The salmon blouse perfectly complements the ruched brown skirt.  Definitely tuck in the top here.  The light shaded booties contrast the earthy palette and accentuate the feminine blouse.

My three favorite articles brought together in one fierce outfit.  Feeling a little chilly?  Try a purple pastel silk (or wool) cropped cardigan.  

Classic shirt meets classic skirt and heels.  Sometimes, it just works.  C’est la vie.

Love, V.

All pieces can be found here.

**********

Vanessa’s life revolves around keeping her boss at the State Department happy, staying on top of current events, kickin’ it with the lady-friends, and fashion.  She is busy with grad school, but always finds time for yoga, a solid night out, and pretending to be a food critic.  With an affinity for travel, Vanessa has lived in West Africa and carries a particular fondness for the continent in her heart. Oh, and she is trying realllly hard to learn French.  Bisous Bisous.

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a life of fashion: in brief.

By: Katalina
12-01-2012
Guest Post, Mens Fashion

A Life of Fashion: In Brief
 

A few weeks ago, I spent nearly one hundred dollars on one order at Amazon.com. What did I get in return? Three pairs of underwear. Yes: three.

Were they boxers—possibly the most nonessential (and terrifying) garment ever assembled? No. Please. I prefer that my undies not be ready-made wedgie machines with a future-altering lack of support.

Were they boxer-briefs—the hermaphrodite of undergarments, a sartorial hybrid borne of indecision and lack of commitment? Oh please.

No no no. They were briefs. Because I’m a man.

And they were nearly $30 a pop (which likely makes them the most expensive clothes I own on a price-to-material-used-to-make-them ratio) because they were the only briefs worth getting: Calvin Klein.

Question: How did it come to this?

Answer: A quarter century of experience.

In my younger and more vulnerable years, boxers were the thing to do. Briefs were something adults wore. And, frankly, you don’t have much worth supporting. When you’re young, life is carefree, so it’s almost appropriate that you’re dangling in the breeze without a worry in the world. So I wore boxers. Polka-dotted boxers. Striped boxers. Jockey boxers. Abercrombie boxers. Gap boxers. Banana Republic boxers. Silk boxers (bad idea). Light-weight boxers. Flannel boxers (winter). Boxers with a button halfway down the fly. Boxers with funny and/or crude slogans on them. Boxers boxers boxers. Bounce bounce bounce.

And then, after a few too many bounces, I came to my senses. At this stage, as a man (boy?) in my late teens, the aforementioned hyphenate undergarment was an appropriate set of training wheels. Sure, young man, go on and convince yourself that boxer-briefs are, like, more convenient during the day and then you can, like, keep them on when you go to play in the gym after school and not suffer an ill-timed junk shot or—worse—a torsion (which is like a game of tether ball in which one of your testes is the loser).

So that was me for a while there. Boxer-briefs. OK. Fine. Whatever. It had to be done.

But in my 23rd year, things became clearer. Boxers were clearly a bizarre regression in man’s clothing evolution. And boxer-briefs were a masquerade. ‘Twas time to make the full switch. ‘Twas time to grow up. ‘Twas time for briefs. (I was also under doctor’s orders to make the switch, but that’s another story for another time.)

After 25 years now of having slipped my noodle into every brand you can name, I decided that Calvin Klein is the only maker of men’s underwear that is even worth talking about. The comfort. The material. The fit. Having gone through undergarments of every size, shape, and persuasion, I don’t think I can ever go away from CK now. They are the best made, offer the shapliest security, and never fail to support me in times of need. With your undies–as with most things in America (from lap dances to real estate)–you get what you pay for.

xoxo,

Grigs

******

J. Grigsby Crawford grew up in the Great American West and currently lives in Washington, D.C. When he’s not writing, he’s a communications officer at a nonprofit that does work in Latin America. This Christmas his girlfriend gave him–among other sweet & thoughtful gifts–a pair of Calvin Klein… boxer briefs, which surprisingly feel really nice and, yes, he’s still crazy about her anyway. His writing has also appeared in Congressional Quarterly, The Colorado Daily, and Mile High Sports Magazine; he’s also written a book about his life for two years in the Ecuadorian Amazon and hopes to publish it soon.

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guest post: a ladies’ guide to getting back in the saddle.

By: Lady Jessica
31-05-2011
Ask Lady J, Guest Post, Random Stuff, Womens Fashion

(image by Gemma Correll)

We’ve all been there (and if you haven’t go f yourself).

The sole being who was once paramount in your life is now suddenly, unequivocally …not.  And all at once you are shaken, trying to remain steady and recognize yourself amidst a swirling sea of questions, self-doubt, self-pity, anger, confusion, shock, and sadness.  The kind of dull, deep, aching sadness in the darkest part of your gut that does not retreat without a fight and will emerge with no warning when at your most vulnerable– essentially, emotional IBS.

This will go on for a few weeks to perhaps months, depending of course on the nature of your relationship and how one personally deals with this type of change, as well as the yearly income of your ex.  It is a genuine loss after all, and it must be grieved.

But rest assured there will be a moment, ladies. A significant and powerful one; the clearest sign of healing and hope.  A glimmering little naughty morsel will sneak its way into your psyche when you least expect it (let’s just hope you’re not at work or worship or with the elderly); HOLY S**T, I’M READY TO DRY HUMP AGAIN!!

You must not run from this moment.  Celebrate it.  Harness and nurture it.  This is your new spirit animal.  Let it hunt and breed in its natural yet threatening habitat with only its cunning to protect it.

(spirit animal)

In other words, time to go man-hunting…

Preparation

Entourage: You must take with you on your first post-schism excursion only a small group of trusted supporters, ones that understand your somewhat still-slightly-fragile state and know you to the core, and will talk you out of going home with the middle-aged lamb gyro vendor and his wife at 3am, given the unfortunate event that there were no other males to prey on prior that evening… A smaller group is also less intimidating for a potential prospect.  (19 pairs of female eyes scanning the crowd like starving baby vultures could be a tad off-putting.)

Grooming/bathing: It’s very important to take a full-on, no skips, 100% committed shower as close to the designated pre-funk time as possible.  This means using your good conditioner, letting it sit awhile, breaking out your new Venus (I know it was $7.99 but this is important), shaving all areas you should and some that are questionable (including your lady stache), and cleansing very, very thoroughly. And don’t worry, you can’t wash pheromones away.  All the appropriate chemicals will still be emitted and detected by the right man beast. Be sure to moisturize very well after and though you may be tempted, please refrain from using anything too smelly, especially anything from Victoria’s Secret PINK line. Oh, and don’t skimp on the lady Mitchum either.

Dress: Ahhhh, the question that’s challenged us for years… what the f do I wear?  As ladies I know, though I very strongly believe that our so-called “flaws” are undetectable to anyone else, we all have certain things about our appearance that we don’t necessarily want to have Showcase/ Showdown’ed on our first night back at the dude ranch.  Wear the outfit that makes you feel like you have none.  Simple as that.  We all know what it is.  Feel like it’s your overplayed go-to and not exciting enough? Maybe jazz it up with a new accessory.  A new standout piece of jewelry or some new orthopedics can make you feel like it’s a whole new situation.  Or steal that favorite piece that you’ve always loved from your best friend. She’ll let you cuz she feels bad that you were dumped. And wear boyshorts.  I don’t know why, but it’s the male arousal equivalent to emotional support. Just remember the key is to look like you, just a polished and confident version.  We all know the story of the girl who cried padded bra and was never saved by her mom or granddad or whomever when the wolves finally attacked…

Venue: This is a key decision.  It’s easy to choose a bar that will attract a gaggle of age-appropriate males, but one must put some real thought into analyzing the douche-per-capita ratios first.  This is a very delicate matter because you are seeking a slightly more meat-markety place than you would if you were just going out for a beer with pals, sans ulterior motive, and something far different than the cozy place you always went to with your ex-bf… Pick somewhere that is slightly trendy yet still comfortable to be in, where people that you think are cool or could have an actual conversation with sentences may hang out.  You’ll know if it’s right as soon as you set foot inside and do a quick once-over. If there are girls wearing referee half-shirts and ass shorts, run.  And of course if you are scanning the streets trying to pick a perfect place and spot a tall drink of water that you could easily see yourself straddling, follow him wherever he goes, and disregard all previous advice.

Execution

Once you have secured the group, location, and are rocking your new single lady overalls, it’s business time.

Everyone has their own methods of bar flirtation and you should most definitely do it your own special way.  It’s important to let your freak flag fly right off the bat.  That way, if he’s still into you he likes you for who you are and there will be no unfavorable surprises later when he finally hears you laugh your real laugh for the first time or talk with a lisp just for the hell of it.  I like subtlety because dudes still like to chase you like they did in 3rd grade.  Come to think of it, not a lot has changed since… Once you spot a Promising Paul (obviously unattached–no ring, no clinging female, no tribal tattoos), zero in on him for a little interaction. We were equipped with excellent lady intuition for circumstances like these.  Use it. If he’s into you you’ll be able to detect it right away (please don’t use the crotch-grab method), and if after a few minutes either you’re not sure or he’s definitely not or you’re definitely not; abort, abort, abort.  No use wasting time. We are assertive, ladies, but never desperate.  The best thing about being a single lady again are the infinite possibilities.  First one didn’t work out? Oh well–only gobs more out there to abduct!

If you do happen to stumble upon someone whilst on your noble conquests, however, whom you don’t mind looking at, has a warm smile, eyes you could stare at for a moment or a bit longer, ears that listen, and a brain that that makes you laugh, then I can’t help you any longer.  You’re now at the mercy of the prey, and I wish you poor bastard the best.

Yours Truly,

Lady Jessica

 

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happy memorial day!

By: Katalina
30-05-2011
Guest Post, Travel

Happy Memorial Day! We just got back this morning from a fricken’ fabulous trip to Charelston, SC, and miss it already! In the next week or so I will have a few travel diary posts about the trip, but in the mean time check out some of the pictures I took above, and come back tomorrow for a hilarious guest post from my girl Jessie covering the subject of recently single ladies trying to get back in the game.

xo,

Katalina

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inspired by the film bridesmaids

By: Katalina
23-05-2011
Guest Post, Style Inspiration, Womens Fashion

Yesterday I went with some of my closest pals to see the hilarious movie Bridesmaids.

This movie is a must! And boyfriends/husbands this is not a CHICK FLICK.

Throughout the movie Kristen Wiig was always wearing the cutest heart enameled earrings in various colors. You can get a slight glimpse of them in the picture below.

(image via TimeOut)

For anyone else that was also distracted by those dainty heart earrings (especially the aqua blue ones) I found a similar pack of them over at Top Shop for only $25.

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seattle in 48 hours

By: Katalina
25-04-2011
Guest Post, Travel, Weddings

Sam and I went home to Seattle for 48 hours for a very special surprise (read on)…

With only 48 hours we:

Drank tasty microbrews at Pike Brewing Company. Sam stuck with the classic Kilt Lifter and I tried the Seasonal White Ale, which has a citrus traste. Both were super yummy.

Grabbed a cup of delicious Stumptown coffee at Voxx Cafe in Eastlake with the padres. Probably the #1 thing I miss from Seattle is the coffee and the coffee shops.

Ate some “foraged nettles” at a new spot in Capitol Hill called Smith’s, ate close to 3lbs of cheese that they dump on their cheesy fries, and had a few brown derby’s made with rye whiskey, honey, and grapefruit. Again, yum.

This was all in anticipation for…

A Saturday brunch craft making party for the engagement of two of our best friends Megan and Josh!

For weeks Megan and Josh’s family and friends were involved in an elaborate scheme to surprise Megan. Let me preface with the fact that Megan might be the hardest person to surprise. She can sniff something suspicious from 3,000 miles away.

(The Mom’s of the lucky couple)

(We even had a 6’2 cardboard cut out of our dear friend Kate who unfortunately could not be with us.)

In short she basically thought she was flying home from NYC for a family emergency (a lot of lying on many people’s parts was involved), but in reality her soon to be fiance, Josh, was waiting right outside the gate (our friend who is a flight attendant gave him a companion pass to sneak through), with the ring and the special question.

Tears and happiness ensued, but the surprises kept coming because Megan and Josh’s closest friends had flown in from around the country (California, Texas, New York, and Washington DC) to greet and congratulate them with signs, glitter, and everything else her heart could desire.

(Waiting for the newly engaged couple)

(Megan come’s out of the terminal and see’s us)

(We all see her!)

(Megan in shock… mission accomplished.)

CONGRATS MEGAN AND JOSH! We love you guys so much and are so excited for the year of the SWELLERTS!

Check out some more photos of the lovely day here.

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this ones for you jimmy m.

By: Katalina
22-04-2011
Guest Post, Mens Fashion

GQ has up right now a GQ Guide to Dressing For Less which includes 25 rules that will make you a “better-dressed, more cost-conscious man”. One of the rules caught my eye because it reminds me of my good friend James (remember this post?).

Rule #14: Summer’s on the way. Don’t buy shorts, make ‘em.

James is king of jorts and ahead of the times. I recant any schmack talking that may have incurred and included your jorts. Sorry James, basketball jerseys did not make the cut.

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guest post: lauren w. and her 2011 spring picks

By: lauren w.
15-03-2011
Guest Post, Washington DC, Womens Fashion

Dear Reader,

I have a confession to make: I’m not a really a big fan of shopping. No, wait, scratch that: I hate shopping; seriously, detest. The thought of going to a mall, wandering through racks at H and M, or even ogling the textiles on display at Anthropologie actually makes me break out in a nervous sweat. Iam not sure where this strange affliction originated. No doubt it has something to do with my three summers working at the Gap while in college; trapped in the fitting rooms behind an endless pileof discarded clothes waiting to be “processed” back onto the sales floor while my friends spent lazy afternoons sipping beers on Lake Washington. Or perhaps it’s genetic. Walking into the mall with my mom is a bit like walking into a police station with a felon; her wide smile instantly fades as she shiftily eyes the exits – planning her escape route even before crossing the building’s threshold. Unfortunately, as you might imagine, years of avoiding malls like the plague have left me with, for lack of a better word,pretty crappy clothes…an issue I have set out to remedy recently.

[Let me pause for a moment to explain something essential. My hatred of shopping does not actuallytranslate into a hatred of clothes, fashion, or looking nice. Indeed, I actually really like clothes, followinginteresting trends, and the happiness that comes from knowing I look good.]

So, I did what any problem solving adult would do: I came up with a solution. I promised myself that at the beginning of each season, I would spend some time thinking about and researching a couple (typically between four and five) key pieces to add to my wardrobe. These pieces are not always expensive, but I like them to be of good quality so I can wear them for a few seasons (or perhaps longer). I have actually always had pretty good basics (ahem, white t-shirts and jeans), so I vowed that my select pieces would be classic and interesting. They should also be things I can mix and match with other pieces in my wardrobe and/or can accessorize. My strategy for finding these pieces generallyinvolves some mix of consulting with my trusty Lucky magazine, running ideas past my fortunately fashion forward friends, and perusing online stores.

So…drumroll please…without further ado…I present to you my spring 2011 picks:

Kenneth Cole Silk Tie Dress/$159

In the spring or summer I will generally buy one nice dress. Having a few high-quality, well-fitting dresses is such a bonus for things like weddings, fancy dinners, Easter with your boyfriend’s family…you know. Also, I love this piece because it is a great color with a basic cut that you can dress up with heels and pearls or spice up with a belt and leather flats.

Madewell High Riser Jeans/$125

What can I say, I need new skinnys and I am absolutely dying for a pair of jeans I can tuck shirts into.

Ann Taylor Roll Sleeve Drapey Shirt/$50

I think these flowing silk blouses from the Loft are so beautiful and wonderfully easy to wear. Theyalso have the structured collar and pockets that provide nice contrast. Best of all, they can easily be matched with just about anything: tucked into navy shorts or jeans with a red skinny belt (see below),worn loose over jeans, or paired with a floral skirt like in the picture.

Silk Intermission Top/$72

I LOVE red/orange and I love love that bright colors are in this season. Another thing about this piece: a while ago I realized that I am happiest in a t-shirt and jeans; so instead of trying to change this, I just started buying more interesting t-shirts and better fitting jeans…

Distressed Leather Skinny Belt/ $3.50

Let’s face it, bright skinny belts add spice to a casual outfit, can be used to break up dull or monochromatic pairings, and are basically just cool. Done.


Button Shoulder Nautical Top/$13.50

Nautical, t-shirt, easy to accessorize…sold. (I actually have a nautical striped long-sleeved T which I wear all the time but will be way too hot for DC summers, so this is more of a replacement buy).

After acquiring a few items like these over the past few years, I have begun to build a wardrobe fullof clothes that look good and that I actually like (without breaking the bank, I might add). I have even developed a small affinity for shopping…only if I have done my research of course.

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