Spring Break Style

Spring has sprung and brought all of my favorite things; caftan weather, marshmallow peeps and massive anxiety towards “festival season”. I know bitches really lose their mind for fall when they can get off on layering and mediocre knee boots. I couldn’t give two fucks about dressing for the fall/winter season. Mostly because I spend most of December with a rash (I am allergic to 98% of fabrics) and usually with 10 pounds of extra weight… you know, to stay insulated.

Needless to say, the second I can shimmy my pastey ass into a sheer tunic and awkward J.Lo head scarf poolside I become a better bitch. Here are some off my Spring Break/Festival Season picks for the blossoming warm weather loving Bitch.collage

Comment below for details and for more style talk listen to this weeks podcast “Pretty Hurts”  (tinyurl.com/thebitchbiblepod) with my promiscuous Grandma Gloria and turbo-bitch cousin Joanna xx

Sex-ed Sneak Preview

I am unsure how to introduce this video… Some people turn crazy over time and others were just born crazy. Recently a nearly 15 year old video resurrected from the awkward and malnourished pits of my childhood. As a kid, I was almost the same exact person I am today except with a much more sought after thigh gap.

In school, I used to use extreme theatrics to distract my blatant disregard for curriculum. When assigned a project about the reproductive system, I decided to make a nearly 30 minute film exercising my “theatrics”. I am in the process of getting the full video (which I will publish here) but for now will be giving you sneak peeks.

At one point in the film I LITERALLY dress up as a sperm and do a synchronized swimming inspired routine to showcase a miscarriage… you can’t make this shit up. Enjoy.

Missing in Action

You may be wondering where the fuck I have been for the past 12 days. Europe? I wish. Rehab? I also wish… it sounds so glamorous. The truth is I have been working on my semi new and equally fantastic podcast series. There is nothing I love more then the sound of my own voice except maybe the heart-warming pop of a champagne bottle.

If you haven’t been listening, you haven’t been living as your best self. Here is a sampling of some of my favorites thus far… enjoy bitches.

(I realize this makes me a shameless self-promoting mongrel but you can find all the episodes here: tinyurl.com/thebitchbiblepod new episodes every Tuesday #PLONK)


What Would SJP Do?

I have had the worst morning. First, I was trying to kick start a “health plan” this morning and instead found myself eating take-out Tikka Masala which has not been kind to my food baby. Then, I settled into my sofa and while trolling the depths of my DVR accidentally deleted the fucking Britney Jean special that documented Britney preparing for her Vegas residency… I will never forgive myself for that. Does it get much worse than that? Yes, yes it does.

This is truly difficult to write. Anyone who knows me knows that I love three things unconditionally; my dog Leo, swapping clearance stickers on full price items and Sarah Jessica Parker. Even as a fabulously emaciated middle schooler, I was dreaming of a floor length fur and even tried that awkward Carrie Bradshaw waist belt look.


My infatuation wasn’t just limited to the fictitious Carrie Bradshaw, I was/am heavily involved in everything SJP. When she thought Gap was cool, I thought Gap was cool. When she went to Paris and got slapped, I went to Paris and tried to get slapped. When she had a surrogate birth her twins, I volunteered my vagina to bear her children. SJP in many ways was the chic older sister I always wanted.

Sure our noses aren’t great but what we lack in facial symmetry we always made up for in thought provoking brunches and killer accessories. Duh!

Last year I went through a serious low point when I saw the debut of the SJP shoe collection, I was in a serious downward spiral and on the verge of a Lexapro prescription. This year I was certain we would move towards greener pastures and advanced heel heights. I decided to dedicate last night to channel my inner SJP and check out the new collection. To get in the spirit I had an honorary cosmopolitan (not my vibe), a brief affair with my buildings maintenance man and left a break-up post it on his tool case. I stole some co-ed twins from a nearby elementary school and then called my bff Andy Cohen to catch up and discuss which designer to collab with for my Met ball look since my usual go-tos are both dead… RIP.

Once I was feeling like the best celebrity inspired version of myself, I sat down with my heart aflutter and googled “SJP shoe collection 2015”. The instant I pressed enter I knew it was a mistake… Here is the very first image I clicked on.


I couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry or hurl my body off my balcony. HEART CUT OUTS? ARE THOSE MULES? PATENT LEATHER? These shoes are perfect for your quirky 76 year old Aunt who lives in the inland empire and loves to dress up for holidays. Think light up snowflake earrings on Christmas, cornucopia sweaters on Thanksgiving and THESE FUCKING MULES ON VALENTINES DAYS. Festive and fashion forward! GAG ME.

Now after further research, the rest of the collection is MUCH BETTER and way less geriatric than prior collections. But honestly, Carrie wouldn’t be caught DEAD in that shoe. Fuck, even Suri Cruise wouldn’t rock that fucking mule to her tri-weekly therapy appointment. I still love you SJP and hope one day we will have a good laugh about this over a charcuterie plate and drinks al fresco.


Here is my truth, I don’t care if that fucking dress is white, gold, black, blue or made of human flesh. I understand that my cynicism seems unwarranted since I am someone who makes my livelihood through public forums. My issue with this dress is not it’s color but more so it’s polyester Herve Leger knockoff design that is almost 3 years off trend and could be found on the sale rack at Bebe.

Perhaps I am just a bitter little troll, pissed that none of my content has even become 1/10 as viral as this dress debacle. I don’t care if Moses reincarnated and told me the dress is magenta and chartreuse… in the viral photo all I see is a white and gold dissapointment. I have spent many a lonely night adjusting the saturation of a potential Instagram picture to make me look ethnically tan… but at the end of the day I am just a pastey Jew-bitch who relies on bronzer and a good filter.


Before you send me a Huffington Post article criticizing the strength of my retinas, ask yourself “who honestly gives a fuck?” I have housewives to watch, a carton of mint chip ice cream to molest and about 3 days of undigested food to weather.