On burning out, selling out, and generation gaps

Good morning, Wednesday. Gettin' over that hump.

So the other day on the Facebook I posted about a commercial from Fidelity Investments, talking about retirement with the backing track of "If You Leave" by OMD, made infamous by the movie "Pretty in Pink". Gulp. So many feelings. 

If this is a commercial clearly marketed at Gen X,  it gave me pause. How many of us are thinking about retirement? I guess it's not that far fetched but still- it feels so strange. Whoever thought that the Duck man would become an old man? 

But besides that, I loved that a pal of mine from high school commented about whether or not the band "sold out" by selling the rights to their music for this admittedly cheesy commercial. Spoken like a true Xer. And I think that's the biggest difference between us and them. And by them I mean the millennials. Because for millennials, selling out is so not a thing. With mounting student loans and living at home longer and the cult of Instafame, all cards that lead to wealth and fame are cards that should always be played. I can't help but wonder if all that fame seeking makes millennials as difficult to work with as many people say they are. Is it because the traditional workplace is simply too confining for people who dream of being front and center and are merely background players? They're also notoriously prone to early burnout. Sellouts and burnouts. Not a great look. Maybe Neil Young had it right all those years ago. Is it better to burn out than to fade away? Kurt Cobain put that famous line in his suicide note, and I remember him being criticized by fans for going too mainstream.That used to be a thing. It isn't now.

As for my generation? We never showed our hand when it came to "selling out". It was beyond frowned upon, even though we were the MTV generation and brands were clamoring to be our pals. They just weren't giving us products to feature on social media. Or write about on our blogs. Because we didn't have those things. And we were familiar with 15 minutes of fame but we didn't care.What a difference a generation makes.

And now that Generation Z is hot on the heels of millennials as the new golden child of demography, it will be interesting to see how they handle the notion of selling out, because after all, they are our kids. And they're already being touted as more cynical than millennials. That's prototypical X behavior right there.

That said, many Xers would now probably love the opportunity to shill for brands and pocket some cold, hard cash. We're not idiots. It's just that not many of us are being asked to the party. Besides being an audience to commercials that features the music we grew up with. So are you willing to sell out? And what does that even mean in such a blurry world where brands are expected to lead conversations and be in service of consumers? Interesting times these.

Cause that's what's up this X marks the spot kind of Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in selling out vs. burning out. XO

All grown up? Be a kid again.

Good morning, Monday. Hope your weekend was all that. How 'bout that Game of Thrones though?

So I've talked about this before but it's worth chatting again given my recent posts about reinvention. I have always held true to the belief that going back to childhood for clues about what you should really be doing with your life is a sound strategy. As in- go on, be a kid again.

What I mean by this is that those romantic poets we studied in English lit were on to something. Wordsworth famously said that "the child is the father of man". I believe that to be true, particularly when it comes to our life's work. I'm well aware that a few things happen along the way in this thing called life. But to me, being a child is the purest expression of who we are, before the world gets a hold of us and influences us to sometimes not follow our dreams. This may not be true for everyone mind you, but it's certainly true for me.

As a child all of my time and energy and focus was spent on creative pursuits. Whether I was drawing or writing, it was always a creative endeavor that made me happy and feel most myself. I recently watched this excellent documentary on Antonio Lopez, whose fashion illustrations were hugely influential on me as a child. I would stare at them for hours and try to draw my very own version. I also wrote short stories and poems and was always so intrigued by artists and writers during my young life. But then of course life happened and i took a bit of a different path. It's true I've always worked with creative people, but having had such a strong identity as a creative as a child, I spent a lifetime wondering how to get back there. And here I am. Inner child cliches aside, I feel back in touch with the person I always wanted to be.

If you are feeling lost in the dark woods of indecision about what to do next, look forward, but also look back. I guarantee there are some clues in your young life to help decode your future. And if you're doing something you really love that allows you to connect to that pure joy you felt as a kiddo, that's just awesome. 

And for all my pals who are parents out there, please encourage your children to follow their dreams, however crazy they may sound. Be a guardian of what they love and enjoy that journey with them. It's everything.

Wishing you lots of love and inspiration this week. "Tis the season for reinvention. Cause that's what's up this thing called life kind of Monday in the 718. Yours, in not kidding around. XO

Keep your box. I'll check my own.

Good morning, Friday. TGIF. First of all, thank you for all the tremendous love you've shown me, and thanks to the Ageist for publishing a version of my piece on ageism in advertising. It's incredibly affirming and I feel so focused on what's next for me.

So one thing I was thinking about was this- this whole notion of reinvention/rebooting is not something that came into my life as I realized I was growing out of my lifelong career. It started very, very young for me. I've always had wanderlust when it comes to work. Maybe it's because I had the nagging sense that somehow, what I was doing was not me living my most authentic life when it came to my career. I worked for the best agencies. I worked with the best creative talent. I stayed in incredible hotels and got to see some beautiful places. And all of that was wonderful. But I'd be lying if I said there were many days and nights when I yearned for something else. And that's hard. It was hard my entire life. I have often been accused of "grass is always greener" thinking. But maybe it's because I had the sneaking suspicion that there was something else I wanted. It was just hard for me to see. And the distraction of a very busy and stressful career didn't help. 

I searched so often for what it would take. But the nagging voice was the one that told me to "do my own thing".

That's the voice I heard over and over again. Sometimes I told it to shut the hell up. Other times I tried to listen to it but got too nervous to really hear it. Truth is, I've been a writer my entire life. And the other truth? People in advertising would never, ever think of me as one. And I know that's what kept me from doing this sooner. The fear. 

The fear that people whose creativity I had come to respect and admire would somehow deem me "not good enough". Or "who does she think she is being a writer now"? I know- it's defeatist and ridiculous but if you've worked in advertising you know why I say this. Because there is not a more siloed industry I can think of. Besides maybe factory work. It's completely insane. How on Earth can a house built on creativity put everyone in little boxes? I get that in a place that is at its best set up to make stuff, everybody needs a role. But to not accept and encourage talented people for all they can do seems ridiculous. And insecure.  Also why on Earth was I so afraid of what people would think? That is just so...argh.  If I'm mad at myself for anything, it's that.

And since the big marketing buzzword of the past couple of years has been "agility", I challenge members of the ad community and all workplaces to embrace people who may know a thing or two about more than a thing or two. There are polyglots everywhere. Why aren't we embracing them? Why is it so unfathomable that I can write and produce things? It's not. Or at least it's not to me. And if you want to retain great people, encourage them to share all their gifts. And then maybe people won't feel so stuck when they're left with a career that feels a little flat. Don't let other people put you in a box. Because you need to check your own when it comes to who you are and what you want.

And I started early on to grow weary of the typecasting. After all, I spent time as a trend forecaster and strategist, and of course, a producer. I clocked a ton of hours on this blog, and then I started slowly building a writing clientele which was absolutely amazing. And now here I am. I love to write for others, but I'm loving writing for myself. And that's where that whole "do your own thing" thing comes in. Finally.

I detest labels and titles and being compartmentalized. Unless of course, it's by your own volition. And right now, I am a writer. And that's what I'll be. And for the first time in forever, I don't want to be anything else. If you are or were fortunate enough to feel that way about work, lucky duck. But it doesn't matter when you get there. I just know that this whole reinvention thing weighed heavily on me my entire life. Because I just knew there was more.

Also, if you'r dealing with people who "don't see you" a certain way, it's hard to change them. And that's ok. I realize that most of my contacts in life are in advertising, but I also realized that very few of these people would help me when it comes to my writing. So I went around them and found my own people. And it's better like that. People are sometimes more comfortable thinking of you in one way. Like your parents. To them, you'll always be their little boy or little girl. And to some guy in high school or college you dated, you'll be remembered for the way you were, and not the way you are. And that makes sense. But as we grow and evolve and reinvent, we should surround ourselves with people who love the new and improved and current versions of ourselves. So that's very much my plan. I'm not saying some of those tried and true folks won't love you just the way you are, old or new. I am lucky to count many people like that in my friend and peer groups. Thank goodness. But chances are, it's going to be hard for some people to let go of the old you. So meh. Out with the old. Thank you. Next.

So the point here? I'm grateful. I'm excited. I feel inspired. And I do think that although torturous at times, I've been a lifelong rebooter, even if it was mostly in my own mind. I just knew there was something else. Always.

And I'm super curious about all of your journeys. How you've fared out there in this brave, new world. What are your fears and concerns? What's inspired you to push through? When did your lightbulb go off or are you still sitting in the dark? Talk to me. I'm here. And thank you again for all the love and support. It means the world. Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? Not me.  

Cause that's what's up this keeping up with the changes kind of Friday in the 718, Yours, in roads to nowhere that
lead, well, everywhere. XO

It's only 8:27 and I've already seized the day. Or at least, the doorbell.

Good morning, Tuesday. It's 8 am and I'm already proud of myself.

Because at precisely 7:40, my doorbell started buzzing. And it wouldn't stop. And I don't know how many you have been regaled by the dulcet sounds of a New York doorbell (holy shrill), but wow. Good morning.

Funny thing is- this happened about two weeks ago. And at that time my neighbor, who I think may be in the CIA, came to my rescue and unscrewed the sucker and cut the wires. If anyone knows how to cut wires- it was this guy. Me? Not really.

So finally the repair guy came yesterday- he of about 110 years. In two seconds he fixed it. Supposedly. Finally- Seamless could deliver again and I didn't have to go down three flights to let them in. YES.

But no.

David left for work early this am and just as I was drinking my first cup of coffee, el buzzer struck again. Khan started barking his head off. I started yelling for no reason. I was hoping that upstairs possibly CIA homie would come down again and save me. But alas- nobody came to my rescue. And then I realized nobody was going to rescue me. And then I felt guilty for needing rescue. I mean- we've come so far. What would Rhoda Morgenstern do? Why is the refrigerator still open? Should I put on a bra? 

At that moment, I called David, who happened to answer. After ransacking his too box, he directed me to where I might find the right screwdriver and then I went straight up MacGyver on the sucker. I unscrewed wires like a pro. I know most of you are snickering. Single women in particular. You do this shit all the time. And women with kids- you birthed babies out of your vaginas. Surely unscrewing an intercom would not be so tough for you. But as someone who relies very heavily on my husband to do things like this, I was not unpleased to have figured this out. And only two sips of coffee in too. 

Sometimes as a wife, I'm guilty of relying too much on my man to do stuff I don't want to do.  Even if I do believe women can do anything. It's true I phoned a friend aka my husband to guide me, but still, I did it. And Khan is still staring at it like "wtf just happened"?

So that's my morning excitement. What you got? Cheers to the women who are handy and can fix stuff. DIY all the way, as dumb as that sounds for something as simple as this. I have solved very complex problems in business, yet there I was, panicking over a doorbell. And scene.

Cause that's what's up this cuckoo Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in wifey got this. Grateful for inspiration, wherever and whenever it may strike.  XO

PS- On the small chance you are a millennial or some such and you don't know who Rhoda Morgenstern is, here you go. She's a fav of mine. That's her above too. Carry on.

Out on the town, and nothing to wear

Good morning, Monday. Thanks for all the love after Friday's post. I appreciate all the lovely messages I received of support and some of concern. I'm actually ok. I'm just learning to live my most authentic life and I'm devoted to sharing more of my deepest thoughts with you. More on that later in the week.

As for today, I'm officially stumped on a wardrobe thing. I know, right? That doesn't normally happen to me. But I was invited to a 50th birthday girl's weekend in Vegas at the end of this month and the dress code is one of my favorites: caftan chic. I've got that down. Don't worry. My caftans have caftans.

But we're going out on the town Saturday night so that caftan may not cut it. Needless to say, I don't require many nighttime looks these days. The last time I was out past midnight? I don't even remember . That's just not my thing anymore and I'm more than fine with it. But I remember all those nights as a younger woman in New York and all of those LOOKS, girl. So many looks, so little time.

If you lived in New York in the 90s, you no doubt owned about 5 pairs of black pants at the very least, which you wore with a cute "going out" top. Mine included some ribbed cap sleeve sweaters as well as some silky button downs a la Gucci (but not Gucci) with some sort of sexy bra peeking out underneath. There were also suede minis, and one white pleather one, worn with knee high boots. In the summer? My bevy of slip dresses. Often worn with a ribbed tank or nothing at all underneath and some Converse slides or plaftorm clogs. There were also of course some LBDS. A lot of those too.

But cut to now.

I really wasn't planning on buying a thing for this trip as I'm all about saving and not spending these days, but my insomnia got the better of me the other night so I took a spin around the internet. And OMG. What happened to going out wear? Well, nothing really. It's just that I'm a good deal older now and the looks that were served to me did not feel right. At all. Too short. Too tight. Too in your face when it comes to sexy. I'm not a vulgarian. Or a Kardashian. And I hate that whole jeans and a "cute top" thing. That ain't me, babe. No no no.

So what's a girl to do when she's, well, no longer a girl? If you search any site's "night out" looks, you're going to be shocked at how cheesy it all looks. Or at least I was.

For a Saturday night in Vegas,  I started leaning towards something vintage. Black of course. Maybe a maxi. Maybe something beaded. Definitely something from the 70s. But then Etsy gave me a headache so I had to stop looking.

So I settled on a classic from my own closet-  a one shoulder black silk Helmut Lang midi dress- Grecian/caftan in shape but polished and sexy in the right way. That maybe with a pair of gold Gucci heels I splurged on a few seasons back. That could do the trick. And boom. I 'm still on brief with the caftan thing. If that look fails, I'll go for my trusty Malia mills black jumpsuit- Long sleeved, silky button down with the same heels I mentioned from Gucci and loads of gold around the neck. Could work. When in doubt, ask yourself: What would Bianca do? Works every time.

I'm looking forward to a little Vegas action. What's your go to look these days when it come to night moves? If I was feeling reedier, I think my default would be a tux jacket/trousers and some high heeled sandals a la this look from Hedi Slimane's time at Dior. I'd make the pants move of the stovetop varietal to keep it very slim. To me, that's perfection. Holy chic.

Cause that's what's up this out on the town kind of Monday in the 718. Yours, in keeping it together, and rolling the dice. XO

Friday aka Cry day

Good morning, Friday. TGIF.

So this one's tough for me to write but I'll just say it- I'm a bit of a hormonal, emotional wreck.

Lately I've been ripping off a lot of band aids in my life- everything from switching career paths to taking care of my health to financial responsibility. And I'm feeling a little raw. And everything, and I do mean everything, is making me cry. The fact that my dog is getting old is making me cry. The push/pull/rollercoaster fun house of female hormones is making me cry. The story on the Today show about the pregnant mom battling breast cancer is doing me in.

Thing is, I've spent a career and lifetime being the strong one. Producer lady who holds it all together. Keeps everything positive. I'm very, very good at hiding my emotions and fears and sweeping them under a seemingly endless rug. But if I'm being truthful, I'm emotional. Very emotional. And very sensitive. My idols are tough women who seemingly never break but I'm sure they are reduced to puddles from time to time. Or at least it makes me feel better to think that. And back to those hormones- holy moly. One day is wonderful, the next? Telenovela dramatic.

I wouldn't say I'm depressed, ps. It's not really like that. It's just getting in touch with my emotional side. I've never been someone who cries at work. I've never been someone that likes to show my vulnerability. i come from a pretty emotional family and it's tough for me. I like to be my father's daughter and stay positive. That's still the case, ps. It's just an acknowledgement that right now, I'm in my feelings. Big time. And it's not about retreating from the world. It's just my default to run on a broken leg and pretend it's not broken. I guess in order to keep going, I have to acknowledge that sometimes, as a person and as a woman, tears need to come.  

I've spent a long time admiring the steely reserve of tough chicks. Also the cool countenance of  well bred WASPy types whose reedy frames match their elegance and cool, calm, collectedness. Or so they make you believe.

Thing is, as I get more and more in touch with my creative side, i think I'm getting back to my true sensitive self.  I think most people who really know me know that I'm a softy. And that's not to say my tough side is not going to come back. But right now, as I very consciously enter a new phase of my life, I'm staying close to my emotions.  We are taught as women that being emotional is weak. And though crying at work is not really my tempo, watching a sad story on morning television that triggers a crying bout feels cathartic, as is anything that brings you closer to your true self. It may even make you feel human when you spend the majority of your life just trying to be tough. Sometimes, you just gotta let it out. Because crying doesn't have to be negative. Sometimes, it just confirms you're alive.

And those ripped off band aids can really hurt sometimes. But how much better do we feel when those wounds are healed? I don't know about you, but I always feel so much better after a good cry. Always. No need to check on me. I'll be just fine. I also think I'm realizing we're a little low on compassion and empathy in this world. And both of those things, when tapped in to them, can make one feel a wee bit emotional. I'm so there. 

Cause that's what's up this softer kind of Cry day in the 718. Yours, in no need to worry, I'm just being me and going with the flow. Pass the tissues, please. Or the animal videos. I feel better already. XO 

Maven product alert: A new favorite body wash from the mother land

Good morning, Thursday. It's been a bit of a week I must admit. I'll be grateful when it's over.

And with that, I don't have a ton to say, other than I've fallen in love. With a body wash.

I love long walks in my neighborhood with the Khan man and the other day we ended up at one of the best stores in my neighborhood, Shen Beauty. It's an all organic beauty store and it's like being a kid in a very healthy candy store. I love seeing what's in there as they're always updating with new things and it's a lovely little pick me up. And though I wanted to like the Necessaire body wash that's all the rage, I just don't. It's fine but not quite my thing. Have you tried it? It popped up so much on my 'gram I had to. And meh. It doesn't quite lather enough.

So I found this Israeli brand Lavido at Shen and the Vanilla Patchouli body wash has me sniffing my arms all day long. It's delicious and fresh and somehow not too sweet. It also comes in orange blossom and bergamot which I'll try next- sounds perfect for warmer weather. 

Oh and I also got my brows tinted to go with my fresh tresses. I haven't done that in years but I'm digging it. I'll never be a real, legit ginger but I can try.

Cause that's what's up this great smelling Thursday in the 718. Yours, in better living through products. XO

Does rock and roll have a shelf life?

Good morning, Tuesday. It's so lovely outside and sun streaming in my window is giving me some much needed life.

So we've all heard the news about Mick Jagger having to bow out of some tour dates to have some heart surgery. I wish him a speedy recovery and was sad to hear he was ill.

But I will say this, and you may think it makes me a hypocrite as I've been speaking about ageism- it's time for the Stones and many of their contemporaries to throw in the towel when it comes to rocking a stadium show. It's enough already.

I say this because I think certain careers may have a real shelf life- nobody expects Michael Jordan or Dr. J to still play basketball. And I for one think it's the same for rock stars. There's an expiration date, with some real exceptions. And I'm amazed by the breadth of artists coming out of the woodwork to tour once again- Morrissey. Fleetwood Mac. The Stones. Steely Dan. Unlike the Stones, I imagine some of these folks need the cash, which, while I won't queue up to see them, I suppose I must respect the hip replaced hustle. But it is nuts how many of the bands of yesteryear are hitting the road. And some with great success. I'll give you an example.

I saw Bryan Ferry a year or so ago and he was backed by an ultra cool, gorgeous, young band. He has a timeless quality to his style and it works for him. He can still take the stage because he does smaller, more intimate shows. He's pivoted enough to embrace his age but is still true enough as a performer. And it works for him.

And though there's probably no way I could sit through an entire Cher show, I applaud her for doing it. Somehow her bombastic camp and glitz transcends age. So does her face, which miraculously does not age thanks to any combination of dermatological juju.

Performers like Leonard Cohen had an old soul vibe from day one. And his last show was a poignant tribute to a stellar career. And as a huge Stones fan, I feel their performance and live shows don't hold up to their younger years. I don't want to see them play slowly. I don't want to see it because it's not appealing anymore. At least not to me. To me, it's a bummer they don't just strip things down- and play some smaller shows like they did at the Beacon some years ago. That I would probably go to see. And maybe it's just because I've aged out of stadium shows- I went to see Dead and Co last Summer and could not believe there were "mature" people in the parking lot sucking on nitrous balloons. The mind is a terrible thing to waste. Particularly at this age. Make it stop. And ps, I felt forced into liking John Mayer because he was the only one plugging the holes on the Titanic that night. And I don't like him at all sooo...

Maybe this is all terribly subjective. Because Iggy Pop can still be shirtless and wailing and it works for me. Patti Smith still performing? Absolutely. But stadium rock from the 60s and 70s is a big nah for me, dog. I guess I'm not a big fan of not acknowledging that age does not change you. Because it does. Right? Yes or no?  

That said, I will be listening to the Stones until the day I die. They are my all time favorite band and I will love them forever and their music has stuck with me my entire life, because the music itself does not really have an expiration date, but unfortunately, I think they're a bit past their "use by" date when it comes to live shows. . And that's that. Is there such a thing as a prime, ps? I don't know. I'm confused by my feelings on this I just know I don't want to see them at Met Life Stadium. Why can't they do a small club show? That somehow feels right. Or at least not as cringeworthy.

How we perceive age and its "rules" is complicated. I love how, much like sexuality, age is becoming much more fluid. I just think it's not about trying to capture something from your youth, but to keep learning, adapting, and pivoting and embracing. Because you can't go back. And why in hell would you want to? And maybe it's not about me begrudging the Stones their love for performance- it's really more about me as a viewer not wanting to see it anymore. I'm sure there will be many that say otherwise. I just can't. 

Cause that's what's up this rock and roll Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in still love you, just not live. XO

She can wear 'em. I can't.

Good afternoon, Monday. Sorry for the late post. My get up and go was unavailable until right now.

So I got the leopard Converse high tops.

And I retuned the leopard Converse high tops.

Truth is, I'm not a Converse high tops kind of woman/girl/lady. I admire the women who wear them and look awesome. But I look like a clown. Or at least I feel like I do. That toe cap is tricky. And as my husband reminded me as I boxed them up, "you're kinda fancy". 

It's not that I'm fancy at all. And that French chick at the top of the post? She's fancy as f. But I get his point. Because he associates Converse with a girl who maybe plays bass or is a bit more of a tomboy than I am.

But I wear sneakers all the time. Nike, Adidas, Puma, Vans. It's true a couple pairs of designer kicks have crept into my closet in recent years- Golden Goose, Rag and Bone, Stella McCartney. But I think his point was I'm not a rough and tumble Converse person. As much as I adore the way French women rock them, I just can't do it. They look inelegant on me. Do you have them? Have you ever? My theory with Converse remains the same as it was when I produced a couple shoots for the brand- you have to wear Converse your whole life in order to pull them off. I had one pair of red canvas high tops in high school and never really returned to them, though I do somehow remember a black and white gingham low top version in the 90s but can't truly place them as my Adidas Gazelles were way more front and center then. 

So the net net is: I'm down to try new things and am a lifelong learner as previously mentioned. But I know what works on me and I knew better than to buy a pair of leopard Converse high tops but I did it anyway. I got caught up. That's all. Don't you wish you could hit return or send things back whenever something doesn't work for you? If only.

Just thought you should all know in case you were expecting them to be a big part of my Summer look. Alas, they won't be. But if they're part of yours, good on ya. 

And that's the end of that. 

Cause that's what's up this knowing what works kind of Monday in the 718. Yours, in keeping it real. XO

It's a beautyful Friday here at the Maven shop

Good morning, Friday. And welcome to the weekend. Do you ever feel completely restless and exhausted at the same time? Like you can't sit still but all you want to do is crawl under the duvet? That's my tempo right now.

In the spirit of my last few posts, I found this great article on vogue.com (buried below pictures of Kendall, Gigi, and Bella) with great tips for makeup for women over 50. I'd like to say that these are great tips for most women of any age. Because they come from Sandy Linter.  Because before Pat McGrath and the other celeb makeup artists, Sandy was shutting it down. I'll never forget working with her when we shot Jerry Hall (pre marriage to Rupert Murdoch thank goodness)  for the Broadway adaptation of "The Graduate". She was a hoot and Jerry insisted on her presence. I can see why- she's pro.

My big takeaway from the article, link here, is that black eyeliner may not be your bestie as you age. I myself consider liquid black eyeliner the second coming of Christ, so this was news to me. Needless to say, I have been dabbling with brown liner of late and absolutely snapped up that Lancome recommendation she posted called Black Coffee. Dark, dark brown may make me a believer. You still may have to pry my assortment of liquid black liners from my cold dead hands. That's how much I live for it. In current rotation? Eyeko Skinny Liquid. All day. So good.

Oh and that you should "wear makeup, and not let it wear you". And that trying to hide wrinkles generally make them worse. What you didn't know? 

My other takeaway was that Serge Lutens product. Not quite a foundation, but quite expensive. I'm intrigued. I love a good skin perfector. But for that price? Not so sure.  I guess true perfection comes with a price. And since I prefer a bit of the imperfect, this one will probably sit in my shopping cart forever. You know you put things there too and never buy them. Don't even lie.

Anyway, a little makeup love for my ladies this Friday. Cause that's what's up this blackish brown Friday in the 212. Yours, in (near) perfect skin. XO