The Red Carpet is Back, People!

Aaaaaaand, we’re back. Well, you know sort of. While we’ve still got that infernal virus floating around, we did have a live Emmy’s show last night! Yippee! And you know what that means–a red carpet rip up, I mean wrap up, a fashion lashin’, a do-you-not-have-mirrors moment. Let’s get going, because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

The Worst

Emm–UH Corrin Was Not Channeling Princess Diana.

Introducing Target’s new Designer Collaboration from Where the Wild Things Are and The Handmaid’s Tale. Yeah, this one is going to sell out. Sweet Baby Anna Wintour. She has a water polo player inspired bonnet on in the absolute dreariest color ever. Don’t get me started on the gloves and nails. Oh Max, Let the Wild Rumpus Begin because this is ge-up is going be on top of worst dressed lists everywhere. I could devote another hour to this, but we’ve got to other people to trash, I mean review, but not a one could be more absurdly ugly than this.

Jason SudeiKISS This Look Goodbye As Soon As You Get Home.

First of all, Tom Ford? Really? Sophisticated Tom Ford designed this? I was all sorts of shocked. To quote Ted, ,”It’s kind of like back in the ’80s when ‘bad’ meant ‘good.’ No, Ted, it’s not, it’s just bad.

Parks & Wreck: Amy Poehler

Business on the top, party on the bottom. I love a blazer as a shirt, but this 1) Doesn’t fit properly. 2) Should not be belted. 3) Is entirely the wrong shape to begin with. 4) Might have been pulled from her boyfriend’s closet at the last minute.

Dr. Dan Levy, Paging Dr. Dan Levy

This feels like a cross between a colorful Amish outfit and some medical scrubs. Too many layers. Do the pants and shirt match the blazer color? I do not love this journey for him.

Got Milk?

I love a cute, girlish vibe, but this was just too milk maid for me. Aidy is not a size 2, but there were plenty of other girls who were killing it who weren’t either.

Wanda Did Not Have Vision.

Yeah, yeah, I know how expensive The Row is, I was at Saks just this past weekend perusing the shapeless line. But this is a young and very beautiful girl who is styled to look like she’s 150. Maybe for another body, but not this one. Her sisters did her wrong.

Yawn…..Oh look……yawn….. it’s Kate……Yawn……Winslet

It’s great to know what looks good on your body and this is a perfectly fine look. But it’s soooooo boring. Borrow that necklace from The Titanic at least. Because, I mean…….sorry, I just looked at it and fell asleep.

The Best

The Queen Has Arrived.

Style? Checkmate.

A Perfect Fashion Jurnee

I can’t help it, I know it’s not the most modern 2021 look, but I am in love(craft) with it. The raw edges do give it an updated vibe. and I’d marry that big hunk of diamonds around her neck.

Now that’s (Wanda) Vision.

This is such a cool girl look. Maybe the belt’s a tad too big, and don’t love the necklace, but hair and shoes are on point, and she just looks like she’s comfortable and having fun.

The Color Purple.

Nicole Byer swooped in like a boss. It’s a lot, yes, but a lot is good when it’s this perfect.

Hannah Waddingham Scores

Her smile could blind a small Italian village. And her body, does it get better–she’s tall and toned and would exude confidence and gorgeosity in a towel from Walmart.

Ya(ra) Made Me Green With Envy.

This girl is shaping up to be a fashion star. So old Hollywood, but in an unexpected color. The necklace modernizes the whole deal and keeps it young.

Angela Bassett Never Gets Old

Angela is apparently never going to age. Like ever. Wow, I loved this. She looked powerful, but pretty.

No Little Fires, But Smoking Hot.

I’m a sucker for silk satin. That is all.

gratitude-a-thon day 2050: the absence of the annoying counts too

Sometimes it’s the absence of something that makes me grateful! Like yesterday I had a brutal migraine and today I woke up without it and shazam, gratitudeosity. Or like, even though world politics are dicey right now, not having to see or hear that orange thing spout lies all the time is such a fucking relief I can feel it in every one of my bones. It’s raining today and I had to walk the dog at 6 AM in the dark while water poured down on me in my pajamas and raincoat, before I even had a sip of coffee (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME), and then when I came inside and had my big mug of caffeine under a dry blanket, the gratitude filled my cup.

Look at that butterfly all getting all up in its namesake bush. how can you not be in awe of this magic?

Noticing that one little drop of water in the center of my friend’s beautiful plant. Ba da bing, naturitude.

When you have an annoying hangnail, or project, or problem and they go away, that sense of relief is reason enough to have a big old gratitude parade. The object of your gratitude doesn’t have to be palatial. Little things, or the absence of them is enough to get you into the place where you’re noticing the good in your life. And noticing is where you want to be.

A necklace my daughter gave me because, well, because she knows me so well.
Avocado toast. No contest.

dear whoever just brought their kids to college

Dear whoever just brought their kids to college,

I know. No, really, I do. I did it. Twice. It was hard. And sad, and funny, and surreal, and totally bizarre, and shocking and amazing and honestly, it almost felt like I must be dead-asleep having one of those realistic dreams where you think you’re awake because you play out the scenario since the day your little baby pops out of you and then there you are on some scenic campus about to leave your child there, alone, wondering who the talented magician was who stole the years between birth and that day without you even noticing. Yeah, I feel you.

Photo Credz to the spectacular Rania Matar.

I understand. Seriously. I grieved for the entirety of my son’s senior year of high school in preparation for the big goodbye. I cried through every “last’ there was. And when he finally boarded the plane for the up-all-night city of Barcelona for his first semester (a Spring admit to USC, LA), I had myself a very major-grieving-Italian-widow-who-wears orthopedic-shoes cry. Four months later, of course, we had to take him to LA, which was also sort of dramatic, but at least he was in the states. I cried again, but not as much (lying here, just as much, if not more).

When my daughter left, three years after her brother’s departure, it was different because the nest was now officially empty, for real and that’s a whole other thing. But, she was only two hours from home and we also went to every one of her soccer games (EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.). Galavanting around New England from September through the start of October and sometimes longer, we saw a lot of her. And anytime she or we felt the need to see one another, we could do it by leaving in the AM and being home by the PM. Which wasn’t an option to see our son. Drive to LA for dinner? Right.

But enough about me, let’s talk about you. Are you feeling worried? Do you keep thinking your kid is going to burst through the door? Are you making too much for dinner and looking over longingly at their empty chair? Are you having some anxiety in the middle of the night at around, say, 2 AM? Have you gotten rid of all their favorite junky snacks yet? Are you the parent who is crying their head off, OR the one having sex on the kitchen island? (There are those parents, but I don’t know any of them).

Well, here’s my advice, from someone who’s been there:

I say grieve for as long as you have to. It’s a transition. A big one. And it’s ok to feel sad, lonely, confused, and/or downright fucking miserable. It’s also ok to be rejoicing. It’s honestly perfectly fine to feel any way you feel. (It’s actually always ok to feel any way feel ANY OLD TIME). So, give yourself the emotional space to feel whatever it is you’re feeling and honor that.

Learn from Kim. She cries all the time.

Throw yourself a parade. You made it through not only bringing your child to campus with at least most of his stuff (“Mom, I forgot my blue sweater with the thing on it….”), you got your child to this point. And in the last year, I’m guessing it wasn’t without drama. I do hear about those unicorn families where it’s just easy as making a coffee, but not that much. It’s a year long sprint of making “the list,” making the visits, writing that goddamn essay, meeting all those deadlines, deciding on ED (and I’m not talking erectile dysfunction, although I imagine the stress could cause that…..), trying to block out the incessant talk of where this one applied, and where that one got in and where this one was already rejected and who is legacy and who got a scholarship and who is playing what sport where. And of course, there is the financial aid and FAFSA and loans and monetary decisions and allowance discussions. And then there is the waiting. THE WAITING. Which is endless and the stress of it is like a dense fog over the Golden Gate Bridge. So, you know, give yourself some credit here. You were right there for all of it as the support team, so you know, cheerleading squad yay for you.

Uh huh, a parade is what you deserve.

With cell hones, WhatsApp, texting, Zoom, and social media, the zillion of other kinds of techno messaging we now have, staying in touch is easy peasy. I cannot imagine how my poor parents let us leave with only a landline and snail mail for comfort. I had a deal with my son when he was in Barcelona, party city of the world, that he didn’t have to have a convo with me, but that everyday he had to send me a text that said “Alive.” Yeah, I wasn’t too nervous. But the point was that I wanted to give him space, but I also wanted to know he was safe. He was in touch a lot, as it turned out. Letting them know you don’t want to rain on their new adventure, but that you’re there is important. For both of you.

We had this phone. It was the only way to communicate with your kids back in the day.

Have some fun. Do things you couldn’t do when your kid was home. For my husband and I, one of the big ones was dinner. We always had dinner together as a family. That required shopping for it and making it and cleaning up after it. Since I am a freelancer, sometimes I could do that easily and sometimes I couldn’t. It was always a stress and it usually fell on me. So, once the kids left, my appreciative and easy-to-please husband was game for for easy dinners on the nights I couldn’t make it happen. We could have cheese and crackers for dinner, popcorn (I know, if I’d had my druthers, I’d have had popcorn dinners with my kids–I LOVE POPCORN), and we were thrilled, and my dinner distress went down to zero. So, enjoy some of the things not having kids home allows you really helps take the sting out of their departure.

For dinner. Uh huh. It’s corn–technically a vegetable.

Talk to other parents who are living the same experience. Share your grief, elation, concern, pride with your friends and those surfing the same ocean. It helps.

There’s nothing that doesn’t feel better when you share it with others who are also doing it.

Sometimes just cry.

KIm, again.

You’ve got this. It’s another stage of life and just like all of them, it takes time to adjust. But you will. And also, heads up, when they come home, expect a little adjustment period for them and for you. It’s hard to leave home and then come back and have a foot in two places, so expect some cranky before it evens out and you have a nice visit.

Ok, that’s all I got. Congratulations and be grateful that you all made it so far. It’s no small feat. Now go, have some popcorn


We here at the gratitudeathon (meaning ME here at the gratiutudeathon)