I think I’ve just found my new mantra. I came across this graphic the other day and adore the simplicity of its message. With this ultra-sassified “girlfriend’s got it going on and she’s way too good to be worrying about you” image that’s being used, they are obviously trying to make the point that fantastic women shouldn’t be chasing after men who aren’t interested in them, aren’t kind to them, or simply don’t deserve them—they should just move forward and find someone better—and I think that’s a very, very important thing to remember. So many of us get so fixated on one person (I’m definitely guilty of this!) that we often end up wasting valuable time, energy, and emotion clinging to the idea that they’ll come around when, at the end of the day, they more often than not aren’t the right person. Because don’t we all want someone who knows how lucky they are to have a chance with us and who sees all the wonderful things we have to offer? Of course we do, and no one should settle for less than that. Go after what you want, sure. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. But know the difference between pursuing someone and making excuses for someone, and recognize when it’s time to move on.
Find someone who believes you are irreplaceable. Anyone who doesn’t can be replaced.
Was anyone else following Kate Hudson’s every move last week? The girl was on a serious fashion high! Hudson is always radiant and on-point with her style sense—whether it be a red carpet affair or a Saturday stroll through LA—but her recent whirlwind media tour of NYC (as both the new face of Ann Taylor and in promotion of her latest film, The Reluctant Fundamentalist) was on a whole other level, marked by one glamorous triumph after another.
Repping Ann Taylor in a black jersey dress at the Breast Cancer Research Foundation’s Hot Pink Party benefit gala
April 17th, NYC
Completely stunning in a baby blue Reem Acra gown at the Tiffany & Co. Blue Book Ball
April 18th, NYC
Wearing a white textured Jenny Packham sweater dress at the Tribeca Film Festival premier of The Reluctant Fundamentalist
April 22nd, NYC
Multi-colored pumps and all-around expert street style, out and about in NYC
April 22nd, April 26th
Rocking leather for Letterman: entering the studios in a Michael Kors hot pink knit top, leather pencil skirt, and white Louboutins; appearing on the show in a Barbara Bul drop-waist dress and Giuseppe Zanotti pink suede pumps
Is everyone else loving Kate’s fashion tour of NYC as much as I am?
Who doesn’t love a good throwback? This medley of the wartime classic “Happy Days Are Here Again” (re-recorded by Streisand on her 1963 debut album) and “Get Happy,” a Garland favourite, brings together two of the greatest female voices in history. I love the first part of this particular clip of their performance on The Judy Garland Show; a young, bright-eyed Barbra holds her own next to a Hollywood veteran, and you can just see that she is destined for greatness.
A beautiful duet and an instant mood-changer! Sidenote: I was very fortunate to go see Ms. Streisand live with my sisters during her Back to Brooklyn tour. She did a rendition of this song with her sister, Roslyn Kind. It was epic.
I started this year off on a very fashionable note by picking up a copy of Grace, the recently released memoir of Vogue magazine’s iconic Creative Director, Grace Coddington. After a friend recommended that I watch The September Issue, a fascinating documentary on American Vogue’s ever-allusive Editor-in-Chief, Anna Wintour (if you’ve never seen it, check it out!), I became a little obsessed with the fiery, British redhead responsible for some of Vogue’s most stunning editorials.
Grace is exactly what you’d expect of Ms. Coddington—honest, witty, creative, and visually beautiful.
I was out for dinner with some girlfriends over the weekend, and someone brought up the point that we are now an entire undergraduate degree away from having completed our undergraduate degrees (4 years, yikes), that we are now much closer to 30 than we are to 20 (can that be right?), and that if we want to have kids by the time we’re 32, we really should have met the guy who will be the father of said children, like, yesterday. A little frightening, no?
Let me start by saying that I have never been a big believer in the “biological clock.” I’m not denying that such a thing exists—it is scientifically proven that women who become pregnant and have children past a certain age are putting both themselves and their baby a little more at risk. What I mean is that I don’t believe in putting that kind of pressure on our bodies; I think that our lives unfold in different ways and at different times, and there is really no use in becoming frantic about the fact that we aren’t quite where we thought we might be by a certain age.
But this kind of anxiety is all part of what I’ve started to call the 20/30 transition—those few years in which you’re caught moving between the chaotic student life of a 21 year-old (whose main concerns are: exam schedules, flipcup, pub crawls, all-nighters, jeans vs. trackpants, and complex carbohydrates) and the somehow even more chaotic life of a burgeoning adult in their 30s (who is more likely to be dealing with things like the corporate ladder, RRSPs, car payments, credit card statements, mortage vs. rental, and, of course, that dreaded biological clock). For those readers who are still enjoying the relatively carefree life of someone in their early 20s, here are a few things you can look forward to. (The rest of you, you’ll know what I’m talking about.)
A weekend bender now results in bloodshot eyes, a killer headache, the dehydration bloat, and a seriously unproductive Monday at the office, instead of a 3:00pm wake-up call and a trip to the closest fast food joint.
“Dating” used to mean making eyes with someone over the beer pong table, maybe a late night study session or two, dancing the night away at the campus bar, and then giggling as all of your friends gush about what a cute couple you make. It now involves tracking down a bar with the appropriate demographic, self-help books, online profiles (cringe), awkward, not-so-subtle matchmaking from your couple friends, and sifting through endless man-boys (think Britney Spears’s “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman” anthem, the masculine version) who aren’t quite sure what they want yet (which is OK, because you really don’t either).
Monday mornings now begin by putting on your newest blazer, commuting to work, and arriving at your desk to find a massive to-do list courtesy of your boss, instead of rolling out of bed at 10:00am, putting on your newest school-incrested hoodie, and then falling back asleep in the back row of PSYCH 101.
Your relationship with your parents used to consist of hastily written emails telling them you were still alive as you ran out to either a class or a party (because where else would you be?). It now involves regular phone conversations in which you are hyperventilating over your lack of money, your lack of a decent job, your lack of a decent apartment, and/or your lack of eligible men—and them assuring you that it will all be OK.
Holidays with your family used to involve questions about what classes you were taking, what cool clubs you were a part of, and what you might want to do after you graduated. They now involve variations of the question: “Why haven’t you met anyone yet?”
Case-in-point: growing up is hard. But no one ever mentioned that “growing up” doesn’t end after you turn 18—in fact, it continues (and seems to become increasingly harder) as you make your way through your 20s towards the age where you can no longer pretend you’re not a real adult: 30. And, not to dampen the unique set of pressures faced by people in their 20s who are balancing the standard demands of building a life and a career on top of caring for a spouse and/or children (because I have mad respect for you!), but my experience suggests that the 20/30 transition is especially daunting for the singles of the world. Trying to figure out who you are on top of trying to figure out what type of person you want to be with—and how you are ever going to manage finding such a person—feels impossible. But here’s what I’ve started to learn: you can always count on Paul McCartney for some solid words of wisdom.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
We can work it out.
Let it be.
Time will keep turning. The biological clock will keep ticking. 30 will come, whether you feel ready for it or not. And you will be fine.