Archive | Style Matters

Mercury Retrograde Runneth Over

I’m fairly certain my birthday present to myself this year will be combat boots and it has me giggling. I keep remembering that old ’70s insult: Your momma wears combat boots. Nowadays, that’s a badge of cool, like flaunting your tattoos while picking the kids up at soccer. Not that I’d ever get a tattoo since a. It doesn’t adhere to my chief rule of style, WWAD (What Would Audrey Do), and b. I can’t imagine such a commitment to anything besides a cat. For that matter, not that I’d ever have kids. (I have, however, been known to fetch godchildren at sporting events. For those weirdos I’d do anything.)

Overall, I was glad for the giggle because I’ve not been laughing much lately. Mercury is retrograding something fierce so far. Yesterday I was all set to appear on HuffPost Live to give my two cents on the Golden Globes, but an hour beforehand—just before I started fiddling with my hair—a producer called to say that not only had our segment been cancelled but HuffPost Live itself had been cancelled. That’s some serious M.R. mishegos: the dissolution of an entire communication channel. Continue Reading →

Slogans Make a Girl Slap-Happy

Since I was a kid, I’ve given every year a little slogan. “1980, You’re a Lady.” (What can I say? I was very young.) “1988, You’re Gonna Be Great.” (It was the ’80s, man.) “1999, Prince Is Still Fine.” (Duh.) “2005, Just Stay Alive.” (That was a tough year.) “2006, Plenty of Dicks.” (That was a salacious year.) I might as well have made last year’s slogan, “2015, Don’t Be So Mean.” (I actually made it “Keep It Lean” because I was so broke the year before.) And this year’s slogan is–drumroll, please— “Sweeeeet 2016.” Are you ready, Freddy?

Packing My Cannoli

Once Sadie stopped being a long-distance car, I bought the world’s smallest suitcase–pink and black leopard print, a carry-on no matter how stringent the airline regulations, something even my bad back could handle on public transportation. It’s basically a school backpack on pretty silver wheels, the Zoolander mobile phone of satchels. The only downside: packing has become tres Sophie’s Choice. Which explains why, at 11pm after an extremely long day, I’m sitting here muttering, Mz. Rosman, you are heading to Boston, fer Christ’s sake. Keep the corduroys, lose the cute dress. Yes, I am laughing at myself (and regretting that 9pm coffee). But I also am quite serious. Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy