preppy pink (!)

Pink has never been my color. I have never been a huge fan of pink in any of its shades…except for an unfortunate spell in the late ’80s. I blame New Kids on The Block and their neon-saturated merchandise. I fucking LOATHE that pink has become code for girl. I’m tired of pink toys and pink clothes and pink princess culture. I hate it. I have owned a handful of pink things in my life–most memorably a pink panda hoodie with ears–and I had pink streaks in my hair about eight years ago, but for the most part, I stay away.

After being sick for the whole of January, culminating in a stomach that could barely accept food, I needed something to cheer me up. In my bag of nail polishes, the bottle of NYC Preppy Pink called to me. I didn’t purchase it; it was part of a Christmas present. So, while watching That Metal Show, of all things, I tried it, and I’m kind of in love.

Barbie-Pepto Realness.

Barbie-Pepto Realness.

I keep looking at my hands as if they belong to someone else. They feel a little Barbie-esque. The polish was easy to apply and dried so smoothly, much more so than other brands I’ve used. I’m super impressed with how lovely it looks.

I used yummy hand cream from The Body Shop before applying color to my nails, and my hands don’t look completely ragged and terrible, as they had been looking for months, thanks to constant hand-washing, cleaning, cooking, etc. I wonder how I’ll feel when I go back to my standard greige/black/green rotation. Who am I kidding? I’ll probably let this chip to high hell and get gross nails all over again. Then again, it actually felt good to indulge in a little bit of frivolity. I did just get some nail sequins in my Birchbox….


Suddenly, I want to take a trip to Ulta to buy fancy shit for my hair and body. I treated myself a bit at The Body Shop, Lush and Victoria’s Secret thanks to a gift card I received at work (and those post-holiday sales were just calling my name), and these small acts of frivolity make me feel human when everything in my body is screaming otherwise. I may have felt like crap, but at least my skin was soft. It’s the little things.

So tonight, I’ll be raising my pink-tipped hands to the sky watching Nine Inch Nails, Foo Fighters and Queens of the Stone Age bring rock back to the Grammys. Maybe I’ll also give myself a pedicure and read a magazine. (I know, I’m trying to back off, but when I can’t eat or sleep properly, magazines are the literary equivalent to comfort food.) What are you going to do for yourself today?



Kindred Collective is live again!

The Kindred Collective is back! The members have regrouped, and we’re all ready to share our art with you! Here’s a peek at my latest post:

“Synchronicity weaves like a web when you were meant to be a meal”–Incubus, Smile Lines

I have always loved that part from the song Smile Lines. The surprise of the unexpected, the elation of pieces coming together and the universe aligning with your dreams and desires.

On the other hand, synchronicity can reinforce your deepest fear, as it did when Ashley drew my tarot card for the year: 8 of Swords. Its meaning? Trapped and powerless. ”

To read the rest and listen to the playlist I made for the theme, click on over HERE!