For those of you who haven’t heard the exciting news, the birth of Haute Mess Clothing is moving full speed ahead and the first batch of shirts are being produced as we speak for your wearing pleasure. Not to sound like a dick – but they are really fucking cute. Our first shirts are perfect for working your shit around town, the walk of shame, family gatherings and still moderately acceptable to wear in front of small children (but maybe not your Mormon cousins).What do you want to see on future Haute Mess Clothing??? Robes, sleep shirts, sweats, tanks, tee’s, gym bags, sleep masks, flasks, tampons – YOU NAME IT! Send your very valued opinions in comment below or send to email@example.com
This may seem very contradictory given my shopping problems, but I fucking hate Black Friday. First of all, I think the name of it is super racist. Secondly, after I shovel turkey and mashed potatoes down my throat the last thing I want to do is schlep my fat ass to a Best Buy to go tussle with some crazy bitches in mom jeans and a polyester Turkey sweater over a stupid DVD player. Thirdly, I have extremely high levels of adrenaline and competitive shopping nearly puts me into cardiac arrest. I may be small but I am scrappy and being in an extreme shopping environment puts me on a downward spiral. I have been to a Barney’s Warehouse sale before and it aint pretty. African American Friday may be my version of hell. As a preteen I remember being so pissed that my mother never would take me to the mall for the midnight shopping fiasco. As my mother so eloquently put it, “I would rather pay full price and not have a panic attacks while being surrounded by all those snot nosed little kids wiping their germs all over the place.” My mother also doesn’t like shopping at grocery stores where you have to load your own conveyor belt… So clearly Black Friday was not going to happen.
When I finally had my driver’s license, I finally had the freedom to haul my ass to the Topanga Mall for my first Black Friday experience. To say I was excited was an understatement. I picked up my best friend, played “Eye of The Tiger” on repeat, got some upfront Hanukkah cash and finalized my game plan. As we pulled into the parking garage I was instantly overwhelmed by the mass amounts of mini vans. These bitches weren’t fucking around. The seats in the car were already folded down in preparation, crowds were forming outside the mall doors, women in tracksuits had canteens of water to keep them hydrated and were pacing back and forth barely able to control their adrenaline. These bitches be crazy. I was instantly intimidated, anxious and kind of scared. We hovered around the Nordstrom doors waiting for the mad dash. I had my heart set on a leather Juicy (don’t judge me it was 16 and Juicy was still cool) travel bag that I got wind would be going on sale. The doors opened and it was on like donkey kong.
People started RUNNING and I soon realized I was super out of my element. Trying to keep up appearances I joined the herd and started sprinting to the handbag section, shoving small children to the ground and throwing serious elbows at any bitches in my path. From about 50 feet away I spotted my bag perfectly perched on a pile of other sale items. I let out a sigh of relief, began my descent and as I was literally centimeters away some whore with upper lip hair snagged it out of my reach. I don’t think so hooker. “Um excuse me, that’s my bag. I just sat it down for a second to tie my shoes (lie)”. This was a really bad excuse considering I was wearing Uggs (another shameful moment) and she saw me come in for it at a distance. “Sorry babe, I’m sure there are more in the back. This one’s mine.” Don’t babe me bitch. “It’s actually a gift for my mother. She has a really bad UTI and has wanted this bag for months (lie). She wanted to come here herself but the burning sensation is too painful and she is on bed rest (lie). She will beat me if I don’t get it for her. (another lie).” It’s all I could come up with on the spot. In hindsight I should’ve given a more convincing sob story…something terminal. She gave me a hairy smirk and jetted off to crush another person’s dreams and left me feeling like a total failure. I left with no purchases and no self esteem. I have always been a really sore loser and decided that African American Friday was just not for me.
To all the Haute Messes that are brave enough to persevere and throw down on this extreme shopping event I applaud and salute you. May your purchases be successful, your grand totals be generously reduced and your pushy biatch encounters be limited. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. xx
You may sit and ponder the principles of being a glorified Haute Mess™. Beyond the strict moral code that comes with being a Haute Mess (yeah right) I have curated a list of possessions every aspiring lad or lassie should have on the road to acquire a Haute Mess Life.
Leather Pants – Consider this the pant of choice for all Haute Messes. Wear them with a plain t shirt, wear them with a sequin top, wear them with nipple tassels- WHATEVER. I am a firm believer in year round leather. Sure if it’s summer you will be schvitzing your metaphoric balls off but at least you’ll be burning calories and still look haute as fuck #silverlining.
A Cocktail Shaker – Firstly, I would like to go on the record and say I hate the word cocktail (and not for it’s obvious cock word play). This isn’t fucking 1934, can’t we just call them drinks? Adult Beverages? Happy juice? Okay I’m done. It isn’t breaking news that I am one high maintenance biatch when it comes to my happy juice. I don’t drink to get drunk. I drink to celebrate, relax or to mourn Real Housewives lay-offs (I’m talkin to you Taylor Armstrong) duh. Needless to say, when I choose to indulge you best be trippin thinking I’m going to sip on some Smirnoff mixed with Safeway brand soda in a fucking red cup. No girl, no. The only hard liquor drink I partake in is a dirty martini in proper glassware and that shit better be jigged. #hautemessnecessity
Robe- Robes are to Jackie Schimmel, what salt is to the ocean. I LIVE in robes. I have my après shower robe, my getting ready robe, my cooking robe, my television watching robe, my sexy robe and my letting myself go robe. I like to imagine I came out of the birth canal in a chenille robe. Actually, one of my pastimes is stealing robes from nice hotels “Don’t you get charged?” Um ya, if you’re an ignoramus. No man, relative or friend can give you the warmth and comfort of a good robe. You can quote me on that.
Princess Shoes – Cinderella, Dorothy and Lady Carrie Bradshaw all had their signature shoes. Every haute mess should have hers too. Whether or not they are impractical, make your feet bleed or are worth more than your car, a special pair of shoes will always make you feel special (in a cherished way, not in a short bus way). I have a few pair of princess shoes that highlight different points in my life and even though I rarely wear them, seeing them glisten in their display case warms my insides. Sometimes when I feel like total ass I put them on with my pajamas and they remind me of our love and how I delusionally feel I deserve them (and so do you).
A “World Famous” Dish – My mother has never liked to cook. We used to eat out 85% of the time and whenever my mother would delight us with a home cooked meal it was always “world famous”. Even if she buys it from a local restaurant and claims it as her own it still gets the title. Kind of genius. I have said multiple times, being a haute mess is about working it. Working what your great at, good at and really suck at. People who take themselves too seriously to try new things bore me. Eat the snail, cut some bangs, sing some karaoke and lighten up. Whether you love to cook or only use your stove to store sweaters, you only need one (or a few) specialties to solidify your domesticity (bite me Feminists of LA). The key is to learn, master and promote one world famous dish to the point of no return (my current “world famous” meal is my lamb/feta meatballs with tzatziki). It could be your mother’s kugle, Ina Garten’s pound cake (that bitch luhhs cake) or some bruschetta you found on pinterest. Fuck you don’t even have to make it, just put it on a platter and add some garnish and voilà it’s “World Famous”.
Last night a terrible thing happened. I officially maxed out any and all storage space for my clothes/handbags and shoes. My car is full, my entire under bed is storage, I had to purchase a bigger dresser (one of 3) and have slowly encroached on all of my boyfriends space. Last night I started storing some summer tunics where we keep the toilet paper inventory and I knew it was time to do a major clean out. I have officially gone too far. I wouldn’t say I am a clothing hoarder I prefer the term collector. It got me thinking about things that have either NEVER or that shamefully have owned.
True Religion Jeans – Calm down white girls. These had their day (nearly a decade ago). It’s time to move on… we know you spent $220 on them back in the 9th grade and saying goodbye is difficult but it truly is time to part ways.
Kitten Heels – These will be the death of me.. let me specify. Anything UNDER 2 ½ inches is a kitten heel in my book. I would rather wear Ziploc bags on my bare feet than be caught dead in a shoe 3 inches or below. Just wear a god damn flat if you can’t roll (Hello Fab Flats )
Ed Hardy – Do I even need to explain?
Drop Crotch Pants – I get that people think the drop crotch is very fashion forward but to me it just looks like you shit your pants or have a very low hanging labia.
Juicy Sweatsuits – Gretchen Rossi called and she wants her outfit back. I can’t deal… tracksuits in general give me anxiety but Juicy ones nearly put me in the ICU.
Handkerchief Hemlines- Are you long? Are you short? Was the seamstress drunk? I just don’t get it… pick a team. I hate indecisive hemlines it really hurts my feelings.
Pashminas – Unless you’re 13 years old on the Bar/Bat Mitzvah circuit circa 1998 you shouldn’t wear a fucking pashmina. As my Grandmother would say it makes you look “from hunger”.
Matchy Matchy – Remember that purple dress, that goes with the purple bag and the purple shoes and the cute purple drop earrings to match your purple eye shadow and purple undertoned lipstick? So do I and it makes me nauseous. Wearing one color head to toe is literally archaic and makes someone at any age look at least 15 years older and from a Bakersfield Church Group.
Moccasins – As a 1/8 Native American (at least that’s what my college apps said) I would like to go on record and say I don’t appreciate moccasin style flats and boots being made a fashion mockery. They aren’t real shoes they are just glorified suede slippers… totally unnecessary.
Uggs – Also no explanation needed. If you are in the snow fine I get it. But anywhere else it is so socially unacceptable. Now they are trying to hussle Uggs with sequins and bright colors and it is just desperate and sad. Like I said in my senior year book “Uggs are ug.” That happened to be very controversial at the time.
Velvet- I just hate velvet. Unless it’s like a sofa or pillow or carpet or something.
Bodycon Skirts – I am kind of anti-bandage clothing in general but am especially offended by those stretchy thin bodycon skirts. I know people like to wear them “up in da club” but they are just so blah and 98% so unflattering to people of all shapes and sizes.
Hipster Platforms – No one loves a hooker heel more than I do but clearly I missed the whole hipster fashion movement. We get it, your artsy, you love quinoa, crop tops, thrift shops, obscure instagram selfies, farmers markets and these are your shoe of choice. Can we just move on? Please?
There will definitely be a part duex to this… Leave more closet disgraces in comments below!
I have a haute mess confession to make, I am fucking obsessed with Spanx. I try to keep this infatuation on the down low because I don’t want people to feel like they are being deceived by my physique. In case you haven’t already noticed, I am literally a 63 year old woman trapped in a 23 year olds body (mentally not physically). I refer to my plethora of Reality TV shoes as my “stories” and get turned on by the idea of a chenille robe, a new Ina Garten cookbook and a glass of fine Rose. So fucking sue me.
I don’t wear Spanx because I am unhappy with my body. I for the most part love what I am working with. I am able to maintain a somewhat svelte shape without physical exertion and for that I will be forever grateful. I have concluded that I am able to stay slim without dietary restrictions or exercise because I am batshit crazy and must be burning mad calories just trying to function like a normal human being. Think about it, every crazy person you know is fucking skinny as shit. Mental instability = skinny bitch. That ladies and gentleman is what we call a classic silver lining. Aaah yes, life is so much easier when you are delusional.
I never thought my Spanx love was an issue, I have been wearing them as long as I can remember. For me, it feels like a great big hug wrapped around my body, holding me tight and letting me know everything is okay. I can imagine being 15 years old parked in front of my tv watching E! fully engrossed in all the fashion tips and secrets of celebs walking the red carpet. I believe it was in one of those moments I was introduced to the life changing effects one can attain with the help of Spanx. Keep in mind at 15 I was a emaciated 87 pounds so I can’t imagine feeling like I needed to conceal any junk in the trunk. Especially since my trunk was emptier than Casey Anthony’s if you know what I mean… too soon? Sorry… #justiceforcaylee.
I remember on my 16th birthday I had gotten this seriously fabulous BCBG Runway dress, it was this amazeballs white chiffon, Grecian style gown and completely ridiculous for a 16 year old who’s biggest night on the town was a trip to the Topanga mall. Anyways, I was ready to rock that shit anywhere I could. I remember the guy I was dating at the time invited me over to watch a movie and “hang out”. I had just broke up with my boyfriend so on the rebound and very out of the loop with the whole casual “hang out”. He was older than me so I was nervous and unsure what to expect (my ex-boyfriend and I were always super PG). Of all moments, I felt this was the appropriate moment to bust out my dress. As any haute mess knows, chiffon tends to be sheer and with its clingy floor length style I decided it could only be worn with Spanx to smooth and conceal.(because what 16 year old doesn’t lust for a white gown). We are talking full on Bermuda, high rise, Kirstie Alley style Spanx. The second I put them on I felt like a woman. They gave me just the confidence I needed to sashay into my older boy toy’s detached 2 car garage turned bonus room (and by his I mean his parents… this is high school people).
As he greeted me at the side yard gate (classy) he looked at me confused as to why I would show up in a mock wedding gown. I lied and said I was just at a Charity dinner with my parents… because you know, I am SUPER charitable. After I dodged my first amateur missile we began watching “South Park”. For the record, I fucking hate “South Park” AND “Family Guy”. Every guy I have ever dated has tried to make me watch it and I am now comfortable enough in my own skin to stop the fake laughs and put on the record that I am just not that into it. Feel’s good to get that off my chest. As we watched “South Park”, him in basketball shorts and a tank top and me in a fucking wedding gown, we began making out. For the record anytime a guy wants to “watch a movie” or “hang out” in high school it just means make out. Unless the guy is a mo… or plays World of Warcraft. Anyways, as he began to lick my face home boy started getting a little handsy. I was kind of thrown off guard but figured it was going to happen sooner or later so I might as well push my limits to PG-13. I was clearly in some type of hormonal haze because I had completely forgotten about my age inappropriate shapewear. As he began groping me he felt the top of my girdle and asked me what kind of bra I was wearing. I wasn’t sure how to respond “Funny you should ask doll face, I am actually wearing full body shape wear! It really slims and trims my physique.” Talk about a buzz kill. I decided to dodge the question and his puberty stricken hands as best as I could. Once he copped a feel of my geriatric shape wear he was like a fucking Detective trying to solve the mystery of my undergarments. Slowly he began tracing the bottom seams of my girdle and proceeded to feel the muffin top my ribcage was experiencing from the Spanx (this tends to happen with spanx, it sucks your shit in so much you can get fat overflow) This sounds way sexier than it actually was. He was basically just confirming that he had a prude 16 year old wearing a girdle on his hook up couch. Sexxxay. He then straight up asked me “Are you wearing a girdle?” I had no choice but to let the cat out of the bag. “Technically, it’s not a girdle. They are Spanx.” About 3.4 seconds later he let out a majorly forced yawn and said how tired he was. Home girl can take a hint… my gown and I exited gracefully which is hard to do when the guy you like knows you are wearing a glorified girdle. Needless to say, I put my Spanx collection on the backburner for my early college years and am proud to say they are now back in my life and better than ever. It doesn’t matter what size, weight, body type or color you are they are not only a wardrobe staple they are also a LIFE necessity. They have held my body during times of shame, grief, joy and celebration and for that I will be forever grateful.
Haute Mess Lesson: Spanx give you the hugs you never received, keeps your shit tight and are a fabulous alternative to a chastity belt. Ladies, get at em.
Fuck I love an alliteration. Yesterday was a rare occurrence in the sunny city of Los Angeles. Not only did it dip below 65 degrees (get out your parkas ladies) it also RAINED. Not ideal for my fresh blow dry – so irritating. Let me be clear on something – I am a total sun girl. I am extremely effected by less than stellar weather conditions. When it is foggy, I become foggy. When it is sunny and warm, I become sunny and warm. And I go fucking bananas for the Santa Ana’s (sorry I had to) no but for real – I love the Santa Ana winds. They permit for such amazing hair weather. I have never been a person who loses my shit for fall layering. After all, sequins do not layer well. When I envision myself in my element I imagine me in a breezy floor length caftan (preferably Missoni – maybe Pucci) lounging on a white chaise lounge poolside (an infinity pool) with wristfulls of various gold Kim Zolciak inspired diamond bangles amongst other bling accessories while I sip on a fresh vodka mojito. Ahhhhh yes. I know that sounds really fucked up. Whatever, a girl should have goals right?
Anyways, yesterday as the suddenly cold and rainy weather surprised me, so did my urge to run home and bust out my cold weather clothes. I was so pissed I didn’t check my handy weather app and may have missed the opportunity to channel my inner J.LO. I was practically speed racing home to switch up my outfit. Since I tend to be bias to warm weather, I decided to explore the many pros of a colder climate and fashion options that accompany. Here are some of my favorite fashion perks for braving the cold AND some extremely affordable options because I love you.
OVER THE KNEE BOOTS – Look I don’t want to sound like a fucking Kardashian but I have always been obsessed with OTK boots. They are so much more glam than knee height. I have planning to pull a Winona at Saks for the Giuseppe Zanotti thigh highs but can’t afford to have any legal woes before my Haute Mess Handbook comes out. They are so gorgeous with just the perfect hint of high class hooker – which is what a Haute Mess loves.
LEATHER – like butta. I LOVE leather, I pretty much wear it year round but my lust for leather really gets the attention it deserves during Fall and Winter. Leather jackets, leather tops, leather skirts, leather shorts, leather pants. You can wear leather pants with a plain janky ass “Hanes Her Way” sleep shirt and you instantly look like Sienna fucking Miller. Leather makes you look so much cooler than any other fabric. Since I am in the constant pursuit of upping my cool factor. Leather is a big deal for me.
FUR (Faux – get off my balls Peta) - If I could pull off a floor length Chinchilla I WOULD. I always feel very Growing up Gotti in a fur. I am not super into a cropped fur because it automatically makes me feel like I am attending the Posche fashion show at the Brownstone and insisting “My home is not in foreclosure BITCH.” Then I think of Ashlee Holmes and I get sad… Love and light bitch. (for anyone living under a rock this is a RHONJ reference)
HATS - My jew do does not hold up well in cold weather. Moisture is my enemy, and when rain comes I develop serious hattitude. Anything I can do to hide the beast growing from my scalp is a definitine DO. Could you just die from that sequined beanie?! #purchased
Tights – If you are like me, any excuse to avoid wearing pants is preferred. Tights make it so easy to transition your Summer dresses into Fall/Winter outfits.
This past weekend I was invited to a wedding for a family friend of my boyfriend’s aka a totally anonymous wedding aka THE BEST kind of wedding. I love the anonymity of a strangers special occasion. You can shove food down your throat, drink all the top shelf liquor, dance your ass off and not have to spend one minute small talking with one of your distant yet creepy uncles. The wedding was at a beautiful winery in Malibu which was perfect since I was house and dog sitting my parent’s house while they were away on vacation. As I went about my day on Saturday, I realized that the only 2 dresses I had packed were white and fucking ivory. That’s appropriate, showing up to a strangers wedding in a white dress. What the hell is wrong with me? Panic set in and I knew I needed to find a new ensemble in a jiffer. This social faux pas all unfolded around 2:00pm, conveniently an hour and a half before the shindig. I decided to go to the place that always lifts my spirits… TJ Maxx aka Disneyland. People always think I am joking when I say I love it there, shame on you. I documented my desperate outfit hunt filled with all the highs and lows that come with bargain shopping.
I may or may not have gone back for the Pucci dress as my “thinspiration” investment piece – whatever, I #workbitch. Also, I have spent the past 3 hours trying to learn how to bleep out my rape line in this video. I meant to say ravage and oops. I apologize and am too technologically challenged to learn how to fix it since its already been posted. #sorrymomanddad
After a few overly indulgent shoe purchases last week, I decided I needed to come back to reality and remember I am NOT J LO. I have to do this every so often after going a bit off the rails with my purchasing problems. The other day I woke up with the Godly urge to shop and knew that the kind of financial damage I was craving literally could not happen. Being that my hobbies are limited to cooking, eating, drinking, quoting Real Housewive intro lines, photo shopping Harry Styles and I’s wedding photos and aggressive shopping… weekend activities are pretty restrictive. I decided to give myself one hour at Forever 21 with a strict spending limit and test my creativity. I attacked the Clearance section, accessories, and new arrivals like a malnourished child in a corn field. Or a jew at Costco trolling for samples (AKA my father). Here are some looks that are head to ankle F21 (and each piece is UNDER $35)!
- White Sequined Shell Top
- Navy Shift Skirt
- Shoes: Had these booties since Junior year of HIGHSCHOOL #hoarder. No clue who makes them, still cute though yes??
- “Cashmere” (polyester) Leopard Print Sweater
- Denim Cuffed Boyfriend Jeans
- Gold Chain Necklace
- Shoes: Christian Louboutin, my new babies (and so comfy).
- Mustard Trench Dress
- Shoes: Missoni (All aboard the clog train.)
- Beige Cardigan
- Navy/Black Striped Body Suit
- Faux Leather Shorts
- Blue and Gold Statement Necklace
- Shoes : Marc Jacobs
- Embellished Charcoal Sweater Top (obsessed)
- Black Waxed Denim Pants
- Black/Rhinestoned Cuff
- Shoes : Tory Burch chained booties.
Everything individual thing I am wearing (sans the shoes obviously) was under $35! How great is that? I cant even deal with my posing, who am I? Send your discountalicious looks to firstname.lastname@example.org or tag #hautemesslife.
HOLY BALLS. This is our first (and hopefully last) giveaway of the Summer. I want to reach 50,000 followers by yesterday and to do that I need some serious reader promotion. Think of this as a pimp and ho situation. I am the pimp and you all could be my well compensated and respectfully treated ho’s. Please Facebook share, tweet, instagram, body paint, graffiti, tattoo your ass with this site and you will be entered to win the super sexy Haute Mess Life gift basket which is pretty fucking great if you ask me. Use the hashtag #hautemesslife or #hautemesslife.com and I will do a live drawing to see who wins the following goodies.
HAUTE MESS LIFE GIFT BASKET
- My favorite F21 $9.99 jeans is YOUR SIZE (Haute Mess Obsessions)
(or if you are a Haute Mess Man I will send a semi nude photo of one of my hot friends!)
- Bottle of Ketel One (Haute Mess Happy Hour)
- Jar of Garlic Stuffed Olive Juice
- Clinique Lipgloss in Black Honey (Haute Mess Beauty)
(or if you are a Haute Mess Man I will send a top of the line chapstick)
- Mereadesso Body Balm (my new favorite body lotion – this has saved my skin)
- 1 Slim Jim
- Season 1 DVD of Sex and The City (it’s used… I have 2 copies. YOU’RE WELCOME!)
Can someone say GIFT BASKET BONER?!? Now go share, share, share and you can soon be a certified Haute Mess. Remember you can follow blog via email by entering your email address and then click follow on the column to the right ———-> (one chromosome away). You can ALSO like Haute Mess Life on FACEBOOK by clicking the icon also located to the right. Duh. How can anybody not like a Slim Jim? Uhhhhhhhmazing.
I have always been someone that LOVES my birthday. A typical Leo, it’s the only day of the year that I can not have my balls busted for making everything all about me and I really relish in that. This year was a 180 from the norm and I was completely uninterested, unexcited and unbelievably low key about my day of birth. I didn’t make hourly costume changes, didn’t wear a tiara in public and didn’t even care about GIFTS! Who the hell am I? Is that maturity or a total quarter life crisis? I am still figuring it out. Anyways, this past weekend I celebrated my birthday and was less than pleased with my first birthday “surprise”.
My boyfriend and I had braved LA rush hour to go to my parent’s house for a family birthday dinner. As you may have previously read (Haute Mess Mental Case), I have a MASSIVE phobia of birds. Not in a funny, light headed way. Like an ACTUAL phobia, you couldn’t pay me $100,00 to be in an enclosed space of any square footage with a pigeon. Ever. When we finally arrived, I hopped in the shower put my comfy clothes on and decided to kick of the festivities with a tried and true dirty martini. As I started to jiggy my happy juice, I saw something fluttering in the entrance of my parents house. I thought the long car ride was making me hallucinate until I looked up and saw the worst possible creature hovering above. A MOTHER FUCKING BAT. My boyfriend documented the traumatic experience. If I didn’t need meds before this weekend I definitely will now…
Firstly, this is my second encounter with a bat (I had a bat in my freshman dorm room). Secondly, I didn’t even know bats were a real thing – I thought they were fictitious creatures like a gremlin or werewolf. Thirdly, are you FUCKING kidding me. Shout out to my father for showcasing his Jewishness by trying to fight a bat with a pool net. And special thanks to Bunny Schimmel (our dog) for lightening the mood of the footage with a jailbreak (she is scared of bats too apparently).
Whenever summer time comes around my shopping habits really start to pick up. I blame it on being my “birthday season” Also, my birthday is August 18th if anyone would like to send gifts. I’ve been considering putting together a Kickstarter Campaign so I could by myself these amazing thigh high Dior boots (J LO!) but thought that might turn off readers. Instead, I started looking into selling some of my eggs. Girls, you can make some serious paper selling those bad boys. Just a suggestion. Anyways, during the interim of me getting compensated for selling my eggs/ovaries and still needing to fill my summer shopping void I have been hitting up the sale rack big time. I usually figure most things are on sale for a reason but have been pleasantly surprised by some of my latest finds.
- Necklace: J Crew
- Top: J Crew
- Jeans: Zara
- Shoes: not telling.
I had to omit price of the shoes, firstly because I lied to my boyfriend about how much I would actually spend on metallic Spice Girl shoes and secondly, they will blow my whole Haute Mess for a HUNDRED concept. Sorry folks. Most of the outfit is relatively simple (especially for ME). I love the bright color of the top and the jeans have cute gold zippers at the ankles, but lets face it, they are just supporting roles. The main stars of this outfit are obviously the necklace and the shoes. I was so excited when I found this necklace, I tried to get a close up shot but the photo really doesn’t do it justice. I was not much a J Crew girl and feel like I have been missing out! Pricier than I would have guessed for a store that is related to Old Navy, but well worth it. As a gal who lives and BREATHES for overly sparkly, gaudy and over sized statement jewelry I am a newborn FAN #jajagibore. Here is some of my fave J Crew jewelry (some of it is even on SALE)
It is no secret that I love me a high heel. If it’s under 4 inches you will not find it on my foot. It has taken me years to not burst into tears whenever I see a kitten heel… they literally offend me. As much as I love heels, realistically you just can’t wear them 24/7. I never thought I would be as much of a flat shoed person as a heel person, but if they sparkle… I’m into it. Here are some I found online that are so cute and wallet friendly ( I purchased a couple, I couldn’t resist. Technically it’s research right?)… I love a good collage.
When I first started living with my boyfriend I was in a bit of a decorator slump. I had never had full control of decorating in any of the other places I lived in prior. Then, I was walking into a totally blank canvas with options galore. I immediately had 93% of my boyfriends things removed so I could visualize. Surprisingly, my boyfriend was very hands on during the process ( I called him Nate Berkus during the entirety of our revamp) but was an overall gem letting me pick whatever I liked with the exception of about 75 crystal chandeliers. Here are a few pics of our work in progress.
Still so much to do, we are making dining room into an office/music space for Andrew (I am such a giver) Will post pics once we are done!!
Send pics of your Haute Mess Home to email@example.com
For the first few months of living with my boyfriend, I tried to keep our bedroom unisex. Okay well maybe not unisex, more like a fabulous gay man? My boyfriend is super low maintenance and for the most part doesn’t mind my allegiance to mirrored and white lacquered furniture. Last week I decided it was time to push the envelope. I give you… my shoe trophy case.
(Top shelf stays stationary, the middle shelve rotates out and the bottom shelve shoes are just my flavor of the week. It’s a very harsh system)
Haute Mess Lesson: If your boyfriend has no issues with you displaying your shoes as art, you have a keeper. If you find him trying them on, you have a beard.
*A beard is a man or woman used as a cover for a gay partner (for those of you living under a rock… or butt-fuck nowhere.
“The most precious jewels you’ll ever have around your neck are the arms of your children.” (That’s debatable…)
Yesterday I attended my cousin’s baby shower aka house full of women hovering over miniature sandwiches talking about how hilarious and brilliant their children are (torture), not my idea of Sunday Funday. Really? Your kid is fucking 3, I’m sure little Sammy is a GENIUS. Send her over to my office, maybe she can help me with my expense report. Please. I was not anticipating this heatwave and had to run out and get last minute baby shower appropriate outfit.
Shoes: Tory Burch
I knew it was time for me to leave when one of the guests got mad at me for showing her kid how to go through a dog door… I for one thought it was cute.