Virtual Dress Up

If you know me, then you know that I am a HUGE Abhishek Bachchan and Rani Mukherji fan. And, if you don't know that, then start paying attention to me, Mom! Anyway, they are a perfect combo, like cream cheese and a bagel, like a penis and a vagina -- classic! You may know Rani from her portrayal of a deaf-blind girl in 2005's "Black" and Abhi from his Punjabi Sikh good looks. Now, you are probably like me. In your head, you're like, what kind of sari would Rani wear today? Is Abhi going to wear a khaki khurta this weekend? I mean, I think about Rani and Abhi more than anything. More than my kids. At least that's what the state said.

Well, fuck that imagination use, because now you can play virtual paper dolls and dress up Rani and Abhi however YOU want! That's right! Not only that, but it's all clothes from my FAV FAV movie, "Bunty aur Babli!" The tale of two ambitious wannabes from small towns whose dreams are written off as outrageously daydreamy. You know the one. We stood all night in line in Jackson Heights to see it. Then we made out on the 7 train and shared a bag of sandesh in the rain.

Even if you don't like Bollywood, you will have fun playing dress up with these gorgeous creatures. Vaudeville is dead and Bollywood 08 is taking its corpse on vacation.

The lesson is: I like the purple pavada with blue salwar kameez. But, don't take my word for it! Let your vision wild n' out! Best, meg

observation

Spring 2002 is the new Fall 2007 this Fall 2008

Me and My Daughter Part One

Do You Know What Love Smells Like?

xo, L

Upper Middle Class doing Upper Middle Class Bullshit

My son Max looooves pesto. My daughter Zoe loooooves fettucini alfredo. This is the predicament I find myself in the Chelsea Whole Foods earlier today. Already bustling around the flower district hunting the perfect peony, I forgot that my husband Steven's business partner, Mark Wholman is joining us, yes the whole team, with kids in tow, for a light late summer meal. Of course I'm excited for them winning their recent business pitch-I just hope Crate and Barrel delivers the Mundial Tile Ramekin in time for the Greek Kasha Salad I have prepared, just for the adults of course! Now here I stand, all 5'5" of me in a loose bun and Ann Taylor separates trying to crawl into the mini sized brains of my two children, Max and Zoe. Like the day someone accidentally created an Arnold Palmer ALPESTO was born! I shuttled all the goodies in my canvas tote to the labratory-a.k.a our kitchen, and began the magic! While mixing and tossing the creamy contents of the Paul Newmans Alfredo and the fresh pesto into a concoction sure to delight-I debated if the name should Pestfredo instead, but Alpesto just rolled off the tongue.
There we all were around the earthen dinner ware at the edge of my new discovery. The plates were passed to the guinea pigs, and drum roll please....they didn't notice! Hallelujia! Their finnicky little stabs at the pasta pile resulted in a 3/4 empty plate-SUCCESS!
No comment is a good comment in my book. Of course Steven laughed at my attempt to be creative and moved the peony arrangement to the other room as he was afraid Mark would be allergic or block his view to him across the table. Finally silenced by the table tennis discusssion of how Steve and Mark nailed the client to the table and bled them of all their worth-"where do you think the mortgage comes from honey?," I could relax, recounting the morning and how with a little extra cash, the day goes pretty smoothly I must say. Ciao!
-Janet

"Grreat, ok now a little more action in the hip...excellent. This is the shot!"

just for fun-Rylan

Mom, Dad....I have something to tell you

Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you. Please sit down on the stilleto chair. First, may I refresh your Tequila Slammers? Oops, sorry Mom I got a little on your Elvis slipper...let me get that, hand me one of them playboy cocktail napkins from the holder shaped like two stags in mid fight...thanks Dad.
All these years you've been so good to me. This gorgeous Classic Redman mobile home from Factory Expo, overlooking the new mall. It's fantastic at night, with all the lights, and our cookouts...I know, I know its just mom bringing things back and forth from the microwave to us out there in the front, but it's nice. And geez, Dad you borrowed so many cars from the guys around the neighborhood to drive me back and forth to tap and jazz, and movement class and ribbon twirl...you're a trooper. And Mom, no matter how late you got back from a gig you always came in my room to re-apply my cherry chapstick, you're an angel.
We have so many memories together. Remember when I would go postering for your shows, those long cold blistering winds along the highway, the heavy staple gun pressing it with all my 8 year old might against the telephone poles. Some nights no one would show up at Dusty's Den and you would sing for me at the front table with my Junior Whopper and hot cocoa. There was even that night we all got stuck at Dusty's overnight...wow what a memory.
Ok I know, I'm going on a tangent...what I wanted to tell you...is that I've decided to accept the scholarship to Wharton Business School and GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU HORRID DUET OF...MONSTERS!!!!!!! YOU FUCKED UP MY WHOLE FUCKING CHILDHOOD....I'M OUTTA HERE...OH AND...YOUR ALBUM....SUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSS ASSSSSSSSSS
sLAMMMMMM doooooorrrrrr, door doesn't close and slaps back open on it's rusty hinges...carefully close...latch...FUCK YOU!!!!

(I love my parents. -Rylan)

Show Your Love

I fucking love my family, y'all. I love it so much that we constantly have to dress like each other. I see these other jerk families walking around and not wearing matching outfits. You know what I think of them? Fucking communists. Call up the McCarthy commission cause a big fat boat of Reds just moved into the neighborhood. When my son Wrigley and I go to the beach, we like to pull out the tie dye. Just a fact. Maybe we'll start up a game of beach volleyball and talk about his dad's new girlfriend or whatever. Because, the whole beach can see what a close family of two we are. We don't need a dad. Right, Wrigley? I mean, who would want a dad who thinks it's "OK" to screw the girl (who just sold him Meineke brake pads) in the back of our Subaru Outback -- which we haven't finished paying off, by the by. A dad who thinks it's "just fine" to get hooked on meth and sell your tin toy collection, which was left to you by your grandfather before he died in that plane crash off the coast of East Moriches? A dad who thinks it's "no big deal" to push over tombstones in the Jewish cemetery. Wrigley, why do you keep bringing up your father when we are having the goddamn time of our lives, just chilling on the mother fucking beach in our shit rad matching tie dye?! Why, Wrigley?

The lesson here is: shop at Matcheez -- where great families dress alike! Best, Meg

woah...the BALLS!

This Times article commenting on the Indian Vogue spread, which mixes high end luxury with abject poverty, has me cancelling like 50 photoshoots I had planned this year. Fuck, what the hell am I going to say to Pichu! He told his foreman he couldn't work the 22 hour shift on September 16th. He's supposed to meet me over lattes in the highly secured shopping mall in Tupiza, Bolivia to review possible facial expressions he could use in our "Eat the Dirt out of my Jimmy Choo's" expose. Yeah and try and cancel a flight to Sudan carrying a hummer and 30 mink coats in 48 hours...fuck that shit. I'm sick of these whiny bitches RUINING it for us. Genius is offensive, get use to it. Maybe that they are faced with thier own heinous acts of fashion CRIMES is what this is truly about. Now order me 10 of those Fendi bibs-I have to go to the New York Times....wahhhhh.