Bitch Bible Must Haves

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.

Ribbet collage1Ribbet collage2

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”.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s