SPANX ME.

I am fucking obsessed with Spanx. I have been wearing them since I was 10 years old and looked like an emaciated child from a third world country. Even when I didn’t need them to hide my now ever fluctuating muffin top, I wore them in lieu of a chastity belt during my adolescence.

Spanx has been with me through all my life milestones and I have shoved my body into almost every style, color, fabric, crotch option the company has offered. It is my civil duty to share with you my tried and true favorite styles that won’t lead you to a divorce (geriatric shapewear is over), a medic extracting spandex floss from your ass, or rib suffocation.

I so desperately wish they were paying me to endorse this shit… or at least send me a free fucking brief?

Shop all my favorites HERE!

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My Fave Sunglasses

Fuck, I hope people don’t think I am trying to be a fashion blogger with this post. I AM NOT. A lot of people have been asking about my sunglasses and I have a confession. Up until 3 months ago, I only wore sunglasses with a price max of $5.99 and tell people they were “vintage”. Because I am an ASSHOLE. Before you judge me, know that I had a traumatizing experience with designer sunglasses as a child. I spent all my Bat Mitzvah money to buy a pair of rhinestoned aviator glasses that Jennifer Lopez was wearing circa Jenny from The Block. Someone stole them from my Jansport backpack and I swore off designer sunglasses for all of eternity. I know… rough beginnings. I am a survivor.

So for years I have been wearing a collection of my local gas station’s finest selection of eyewear. It wasn’t until I had a stern reprimanding from my optometrist that I needed to invest in some nice sunglasses. Spending more than $6.99 on a pair of glasses initially gave me a small case of PTSD but ultimately has proven to be worth it. I am trying to keep this post witty and entertaining but I am all out of inspiration… so here are my fucking new favorite sunglasses…

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***Shop my sunglasses HERE***

***Shop my full honeymoon vibe HERE***

Gilded Dildo’s by Gwyneth.

Some people find joy in the sound of a child’s laughter, the sight of a baby bird learning to fly or the smell of a freshly baked apple pie. I find all life’s satisfaction within the release of a Goop gift guide. Just when you think… “Hmmm… maybe GP is just like one of us?” She assures our tax bracket and us that indeed she is not.

The Goop newsletter is my main source of cardiovascular exercise. I sweat, I laugh, I ponder all life’s unanswered questions “are truffles mushrooms or chocolates?” and then I have a good cry and blow my nose into $5 dollar bills.

Much to my dismay, this week Goop delighted us with a Sex Toy Guide. So EdGy! After waiting in line at the supermarket, perusing tabloids and reading headline after headline with GP saying, “I am not a prude!” (only someone prude as a fucking Duggar sister would say that) I abandoned my shopping cart and beelined to my nearest computer.

I am super emotionally invested in these Goop gift guides because I live with the eternal hope that one day she is going to include a fucking Mossimo tunic from Target or an IKEA throw pillow. Not that I would purchase either but at least I am concerned with my relatability factor.

Gwyneth, you have truly outdone yourself. What a minx. Don’t let the macrobiotic diet, personal shaman and truffle oil fountain fool you. Kill me.

Amidst the various $400 nipple clamps, $540 leather whip and the bargain $20 anal beads, Gwyneth Paltrow (Heidi Fleiss) also recommends a $15,000 24-karat gold dildo… THERE she is!

Okay. Firstly, I need a list of all people who own this device and it’s manufacturers because they all need to go find a (tall) roof and jump off of it.

If someone is shoving $15,000 up his or her orifices it better cure cervical cancer or own a private plane. How do you keep the gilded dildo clean? Take it to a jeweler? Like next time you are at the mall, just pop into Zale’s and ask for a quick polish while you go wait at the food court eating Hot Dog on a Stick? Do you know how many corn dog popsicles you could buy for $15,000? AND they are the same shape. Connect the dots bitches… I am just sayin.

Gwynny, I admire your complete disregard for self awareness. Poor people are no fun and give shitty birthday gifts. Never change, stay goopy and hopefully the gold plated dildo doesn’t turn you labia green.

Love always,

Jackie Schimmel

Beauty Tips I Learned From Watching The Real Housewives

When you think of pioneer women of beauty trends, lust worthy weaves and day drinking in faux lashes it’s hard not to immediately think of The Real Housewives. As a passionate and unapologetic aficionado of the franchise, I have learned many a lesson from these dynamic women.

Wigs R Us. One of the great things about being a woman is the opportunity to experiment with our look. Kim Zolciak taught us that wigs are for everyone and a hell of a lot easier than busting our ass on a blow dry. While Kim’s early synthetic wigs were less than appealing, she later redeemed herself with a wig collection to die for. The housewives show us that a weave can make all the difference, just make sure it’s tight. And remember, clip on bangs are NEVER a good idea.

Faux lashes are a girl’s best friend. Apparently being a Real Housewife requires wearing mink lashes to the gym. What kind of lash glue are they using? Carpenter’s glue? The ladies love their lashes and are rarely seen on camera without them. But how does one maintain this level of glam? The secret is sleeping on your back. Whether you have to tie all your limbs to the bed posts like you are having an exorcism or putting bricks on the sides of your body, sleep like a corpse and you will wake up with perfect lashes.

Contouring is the new rhinoplasty. Melissa Gorga vehemently insists that her slenderized nose was NOT the result of going under the knife but proper shading. To be clear, I don’t believe Mrs. Gorga for a fucking meatball. That bitch got one hell of a nose job. However, a proper contour and highlight truly can give you a post-surgery nose sans the procedure bills and hush money to your surgeon.

Tan with caution. While the housewives spend their days lunching alfresco and jet setting to exotic locales, most of us sit under fluorescent lighting quarantined to a cubicle. Housewives live for a good tan. Tanning beds (Danielle Staub), natural sun or the popular spray tan? So many options! If you can’t tone it, tan it. But think Yolanda Foster’s Malibu glow and not Amber Marchese Doritos orange.

A frosty lipstick CAN get you fired. Peggy Tanous, Alexis Bellino and Adrienne Maloof were all pioneer women of the daytime frosty lip. Subsequently, they were all fired. Some would say their termination was due to lack of personality; I blame the opalescent sheen of their lip color. I’ll just say it… it looks tacky. Unless you are dressing up as Romy or Michelle, just say no.

Less is more. Ugh. I know… So boring and wholesome #kimfields. After all the shading, gluing and glossing sometimes the best thing about being a REAL real housewife is the luxury of living au natural. Like Caroline Manzo once prolifically said, “You can put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” And hopefully that lipstick is not fucking frosted.

HAGS BITCH

Summer is high season for the basic bitch. This is when they get to bust out their high-heeled sandals, polish off their sad Tiffany kidney bean necklace and pick up their terry cloth Juicy Couture tube dress from the dry cleaners. Is that SPF 4 Hawaiian Tropic oil stained Michael Kors watch I smell? Ah yes. School’s out and so are the basic bitches social graces. In fear of appearing pretentious and GOOP-esque with a sad “Summer Must Have” list I thought it would be better to have a list of things NOT to rock this summer.

Poolside Heels Crystal Hefner called and wants her look back. I have never understood the psychology behind wearing a platformed stiletto next to a slippery pool. In conjunction with a side tied sarong and you might as well go get that butterfly tramp stamp and get into the adult film industry. It’s tacky and quite frankly just dangerous.

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Tropical Beach Towel This seems a bit dramatic but nothing pisses me off more than a brightly colored, low absorbency, tropical themed beach towel. It doesn’t matter how strong your cover up and accessory game is, being the bitch that walks in with a hot pink towel with a fucking dolphin on it is a bad look. Just fucking air-dry or stick to solids

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Glasses like this… No explanation necessary.

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Ruffle Skirts and/or Mullet Skirts These had their moment a decade ago. If you find yourself wearing something that even looks vaguely similar to an outfit worn by Paris Hilton on “The Simple Life” it’s time to hand off to your housekeeper.

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Flower Nail Art The Hawaiian flower with the rhinestone on your big toenail is not nail art, it is a nail tragedy. Unless you are 4 years old or your boyfriend bought you a season pass to Six Flags as an anniversary present this is no longer socially acceptable. So next time your Vietnamese nail technician points her jade bangled hand at your toe and says, “You won flowah and esstra fiteen min muhssage?” JUST SAY NO. You’re welcome.

Beautiful Flower Nail Art

Your High School Bae This one goes out to my bitches that just graduated high school, I know you think you and little Timmy are going to effortlessly continue a long distance relationship while he stays home and attends community college while simultaneously being the best damn sandwich artist Subway has ever seen and you head off to ASU to pursue Public Relations while simultaneously learning how to make Jell-O shots in your dorm room, but it’s not going to work.

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A Custom Ringtone If every time your phone rings, Maroon 5’s “Sugar” or Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” plays it is time to re-evaluate your life decisions. Opt for a tasteful vibrate or any other default ringtone. I would rather hear the cry of a dying childhood pet than a personalized ringtone. Well, maybe not my dying dog. I could deal with a cat cry, they are assholes.

HAGS B.

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

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.

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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.

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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.

Thrift Shop Treasures

Anyone who knows me knows the following to be true a) I am perpetually 20 minutes early b) I try not to socialize with people who drive Smart Cars c) I never leave the house without at least 7 pieces of jewelry on. This bitch loves her bling, the more sparkle the better. Long before statement necklaces became popular and J Crew blessed the nation with their bitch approved baubles, a hoe had to get crafty with her bling. My obsession with vintage jewelry started when I was in high school. About a mile from campus was an antique mart mecca that boasted some of the sparkliest shit I have ever seen. Even better, because it wasn’t “trendy” I could walk away with a jewel encrusted bracelet for $15 and tell everyone at school it was a family heirloom.

This became my dirty little accessory secret. People must have thought I had some really janky dead relatives… these family heirlooms barely ever cashed out over $50. I am not some chic hipster who visits thrift shops often. I usually detest the smell and would rather shank a puppy than be pretentiously collecting vintage novels I have zero intention of reading. My motive is plain and simple; I love sparkly shit that no one else will have. Duh.

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Yesterday, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to hit the antique mart HARD. The second I walked in and caught a whiff of Elizabeth Taylor perfume, cigarettes and old people I felt right at home. Mercury must have been in retrograde because I found the best shit ever. I walked away with a to die for gold lion clutch, an ostrich feather bolero and 3 crystal bracelets. Above are some of my purchases and other vintage treasures I found. Satisfy your sparkle boner at the Agoura Antique Mart (if your in LA) or get your ass to your local thrift shop and explore! XO

Try The Trend: Belt Bags

I won’t beat around the bush on this shit…I live for a fanny-pack. I have considered testing my genealogy for a trace of Asian persuasion since those bitches LUH their designer travel wear. Being that I put the FAN in FANNY PACK you can imagine my excitement when I got a parcel of perfection last week with this TO DIE FOR blinged out belt bag.

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These bags provide hands free hottness and a true quality product. Check out these fab bags from LA based AYDA&CO here: http://aydaandco.com/ OR on the newly launched Etsy store: https://www.etsy.com/shop/AYDAnCO?section_id=all

XOX

 

Summa Summa Summatime

 

I love Summer. I feel like everyone gets lazier during the summer which brings people down to my level of under-achieving serenity which is something you just don’t find any other time of the year. When that heat wave hits, all I want to do is but on a bikini (or monokini if I have been hitting the brie cheese too hard) emerge myself in a flowing caftan, put on unneccessary poolside statement jewelry and working a frizz free blowdry courtesy of the Santa Ana winds. Clearly Lana Del Rey and I have different opinions on this special season. You keep your summertime sadness bitch, I’ll be poolside with a chi chi. I have been known to go a little crazy during the summers… all my friends have told me that something about the warm weather and good hair weather makes me particularly in my element. Between my heightened serotonin levels and pina colada consumption, my personal style really flourishes. Here are some of my summer must haves, comment below for info on where you can snag this loot.collagecollage2

 

XO.

 

Try the Trend: Ear Cuffs

I have never considered myself a very trend driven person. I never thought Juicy sweatsuits were a good look, still have severe anxiety with high-low or mullet hemlines  and genuinely would rather shank myself in the trachea then bring back those fucking 90’s tattoo chokers… but actually. Once in a while I see a trend that really excites me and gives me a total fashion boner. Currently I am obsessed with jeweled ear cuffs. My favorite lezbo supermodel Cara Delevingne has been working this accessory like a mo-fucka and delusionally I convinced myself I could pull it off. The key to being someone that “can pull anything off” is just wearing whatever the fuck you want and convincing yourself you look fabulous and any negative feedback is simply passive aggressive jealousy disguised as an insult. Duh.

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Sure it semi looks like a bedazzled bluetooth or a drag queens hearing aid but anything I can wear that sparkles I am into. Jeweled ear cuffs were popping up all over fashion week shown in Rodarte, Jason Wu and Chanel’s runway shows. Ribbet collageKristin Perry $14 – Ali Express $8 – Bauble Bar $28

I think a jeweled ear cuff is acceptable for almost all occasions and look best with a deep side part or top knot. I like mixing the edginess and all around shock value that comes along with a crystal ear cuff with more demure, conservative(ish) and feminine outfits. Here are a few wallet friendly options so you can start your lesbian phase with Michelle Rodriguez, grow out your eye brows and hang out with Stella McCartney at the fuckin met ball.

 

 

More is More

Yesterday Jesus was resurrected which really got me thinking. Firstly I am super confused by the tie in to Jesus being reborn and creepy adults dressing as a large bunny and hiding eggs filled with store brand jelly beans and chocolate for small children to wander around a park and seek for their treats. It all seems a bit rapey to me. Like “come hither kids, get your baskets and go search around this public park and look for my colored eggs filled with candy!”. It all just sounds like a hug Megan’s law opportunity, I am sure I will get major hate mail for saying that. Another thing… do bunny’s even fucking lay eggs? I spent about 4 hours trying to find the correlation between Jesus, bunny’s, chocolate and eggs and ended up in a very weird place so I had to move on for my own mental sanity. Being a jew, I never argue with free food so I am just going to go with it… I also kind of lose my shit for those marshmallow Peeps so I digress. During any religious holiday I always try and reflect and figure out things I really believe in and shit that makes me well… me.

If this conversation was getting too deep for you don’t worry I haven’t been keeping up with current events or reading any good books lately… I am getting back on track. Last night as I lay in bed after shoveling ham and baked beans down my throat at my boyfriend’s family Easter party I started to think about some founding principles I choose to live by. For example; More is more. The Easter Bunny has his creepy bowtie and colorful eggs, Jesus had a chic caftan and seriously seductive loin cloth situation and this Bitch likes to be dripping in sparkle. Ever since I had a wrist large enough to shove a bangle onto I have been collecting jewelry and slowly embezzling from my mother to add to my collection. When I was 6 I got the boot from my AYSO soccer team because the coach had asked me to take off my jewelry for games. How fucking rude. How else was I supposed to get a Gatorade or Nike endorsement deal without showcasing my personal style on the field? Obviously my hand eye coordination wasn’t setting me up to be fucking Mia Hamm but at least I could be well accessorized so I could troll for the next David Beckham during halftime.

I have been pillaging antique stores, flea markets, family heirlooms and personal purchases since I could walk, talk and swipe. Accessories can make a white jeans and t-shirt look from boring to bling bling. My rules to accessorizing is no rules. Here are some of my favorite sparkle I have collected over my quarter century on earth.

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Anyone else have a total sparkle boner. I have been fortunate enough to inherit some beautiful pieces from relatives and one very loving boyfriend but many of these pieces I have scavenged all over the place. Like I have always said… if it sparkles, Baby likey. I try to mix metals, price points, stones and styles like a mother fucker and always feel a bit more fabulous with some sparkle.

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We know Coco Chanel always said to remove one piece of jewelry before you leave the house…but c’mon. This bitch loves bling. XO

 

Spring Fashion

When fall/winter comes around I know most people lose their shit for layering, scarves, beanies, boots, tights and all that boring shit. I figure I only have this svelte for another year or 2 sans exercise so nothing about me gets excited to swaddle myself up in excess fabric. If I wanted to add extra bulk to my frame I would go engorge myself with double-double cheeseburgers not lose my shit for a fucking infinity scarf. I prefer a bare leg to a hosed leg, prefer an exposed décolleté to a rashy neck as a result of some sickly H&M polyester blend scarf and overall think layering is for people with things to hide. What can I say? Winter clothing aint my jam. When Springtime rolls around I am one happy camper. The pollen in the air irritates my eyes which gives them a super glassy green look and the rising temperature lets me bust out my labia skimming hemlines, colors, prints and sparkle. So say farewell to your tired black leggings, adios to the combat boots and a big fuck off to your black wool coat cause its Springtime bitches. Here are some Springy looks I have been oogling recently… and yes I hate myself for just using the word “oogling”. (Click for full size)

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For info on where to get these Spring-alicious looks comment below! XO

Best Bitches – Lisa Vanderpump

For those of you who have been living under a rock or don’t keep up with me on social media (shame on you) something truly remarkable happened yesterday. Everyone knows how casually obsessed I am with the Real Housewives franchise. I am not the slightest bit ashamed, think my obsession has no merit on my intelligence and tell anyone who disagrees to go fuck themselves. You think you’re so fucking intellectual because you watch documentaries and The History Channel? Try spending an hour doing character analysis at one of the Housewives lavish dinner parties –now THAT is mentally stimulating television. Why are they in gowns? I thought they hated each other? Who was texting whose husband? She hates Jews? Not exactly mindless television. This shit is rough.

I think it is safe to say each of the Housewife franchises has a Queen Bee. Nene runs the A-T-L (plop). Tre holds shit down in Jersey #freetre. Vicki is the OG of the OC. Ramona and her pinot grigio rule the big apple. No one gives a fuck about Miami and Lisa Vanderpump is clearly the queen of Beverly Hills #checkmatebitch. Yesterday morning was a doozy for a few reasons. Firstly, I hit a pedestrian – it was more of a love tap then an actual a full on hit. I have said this multiple times… pedestrians do NOT have the right away in my world. Secondly, my Caviar of the month club got delivered. Why do I belong to a Caviar of the month club? It’s called entitlement issues people. To be fair, I only opted for the 3 month package because I am not a pretentious asshole. Lastly and most importantly, Lisa Vanderpump tweeted me. (pause for reaction) She saw a picture of my to die for son Leo and sparked a full on conversation. We aren’t talking a one hit wonder. Like a LEGITIMATE dialogue which then moved to direct messaging. Direct Messages on Twitter are basically like exchanging social security numbers. She asked if I could bring Leo into Villa Blanca and let her know when so she could meet us. At first I thought she was just being cordial but then when I received a FOLLOW UP message at 6pm last night after 6 hours of no contact I knew this was serious business. To say I almost went into cardiac arrest would be putting it mildly. So after years of watching Bravo religiously and passionately, my dreams are coming true. Next week I will be going to Villa Blanca to meet one Mrs. Lisa Vanderpump. Upon these plans a million to-do’s flooded my head. Should I ask to interview her for my blog? Who do I bring? Should I pretend I am British? And most importantly WHAT THE FUCK WILL I WEAR? My cousin Joanna had similar concerns and told me I needed to “look chic” like I was planning on going in a halter top from fucking Bebe. Bitch please, the only person that respects statement accessories more than Lisa Vanderpump is yours truly #duh.

I believe in life all good things start with a vision board which is why I have my 4 outfit choices direct from my closet for all to see and judge. Please vote for the look you like best in hopes that Lisa will give Pandora the boot, adopt me and wear a tiara to my wedding.

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I will obviously be documenting our sacred union. Please help a bitch out and let me know which outfit is worthy of Lady Vanderpump. You should know that my dog’s new fame has not gone to his head. He is super unaffected by it and still mingles with local neighborhood dogs and eats socks #humble.