One Well Woman

Today, FINALLY, things seemed to start turning around for the better. The weather was beautiful, I felt like a ton of bricks was being lifted off of my chest, and even though there were a few little disappointments in my day, I had to stop and reflect at the end of the day--they actually could be interpreted as blessings.

I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, did about a million and one things on my must-do list, and still managed to make an appointment for my well woman exam. I am about the only woman I know who actually likes going to the gyno. My doctor is not only one of THE most conscientuous women I know, her staff has got it TOGETHER. They know the answer to EVERYTHING. I feel like I'm a guest on the Dr. Oz show, so I make an actual list on a 3x5 card of every question I can think of. Of course, most of those questions go out the window the minute that speculum steals my virginity. I momentarily thank God that I wore sexy panties, and that my brand new lacies are draped over my pants on the chair next to the table. Then I start to think about it, and who the hell cares? My doctors are women. I doubt they really care, unless it's to think they're really cute, and run out and buy some for themselves. I also am thankful that I always make sure I am groomed and waxed and am very "Brazilian" from the waist down, even if I am Mexican at heart. Because really? If I was a gynecologist, or my boyfriend? I would be really effing happy with me. In fact, if I was my gyno, or my boyfriend, I would be sending ME flowers by the dozen.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the cold, slimy antiseptic gel. Honey, let me tell you. It is not exactly KY warming liquid; and the conversation that my doctor makes about vacationing in Newport isn't going to take away from the fact that there's a footlong Q-Tip inside of me. Seriously? What about all my questions? I knew I had some...what happened to them? Oh, who the hell cares. Ovary, shmo-vary. Barbara Walters couldn't remember her questions during an experience like that. Once your feet are in stirrups, you're pretty much done for.

Aside from the five minutes in the uncomfortable, unpleasant, ass on the edge of the table position we women all know and loathe, my day was pretty great, and that's how it goes in life; it's a series of ups and downs. But when you have faith, things start to turn around for the better. And if you're lucky, you learn to make the most of everything.

Even when you're in stirrups.

Livin' Like A Celebrity

So, one of the big confrontations I had with myself today was the realization that over the past several years of my life, I have failed to recognize that I am not, in fact, entitled to live like everday is a vacation. I'm not a celebrity. I'm not going to make a red carpet appearance everyday. And although the girls and I like to take photographs more than the paparazzi, we're not famous.

Therefore, I need to get my ass out of Bloomingdales when I am on vacation. I need to stay the hell out of Nordstrom unless I REALLY need makeup (and let's face it, I can probably use mascara from Target, I just prefer not to.) I also need to understand that my ladies lunches have become quite costly over the last year and that, whenever I feel lonely, or sad about something else that's missing in my life, I tend to get in the car, head out to a store, or go out for a glass of wine with the girls, or Starbucks becomes the meeting point to "catch up" with whoever I've neglected lately. What, we can't go work out together, or visit at home? No, because it always revolves around being "out." And when I'm not doing that, I'm spending money on gas to fill up my tank to drive to God only knows where.

I realize that the girls and I are NOT celebs and mega-stars, and we can't always be spending like we are, either. Eventually, we're all going to want to pay off our debt and retire, and that's going to require some restraint on our part. We are just normal, ordinary girls, going through the ups and downs of our lives, all in very different financial situations, but all with problems nonetheless. We all struggle from time to time to pay our bills and make ends meet, just like every American girl. But it doesn't help to get jaded by the media and believe that we can, or need to, live like a celebrity. Newsflash, girls! Chances are, for the most part? We can't!

So, here are some lessons I learned today, on that happy note:

Lesson #1: No more expensive lunch dates with everyone & their sister. Seriously? If you want to see me, you can go work out with me. I need six-pack abs much more than I need a $12 martini and a $15 Cobb salad, along with a $10 tip to the cute waiter.

Lesson #2: I don't need a new outfit for every "appearance" I have to make. Good God, I have a wardrobe so expansive, I can literally have a new outfit for everyday of the year without ever having to do laundry once. I am not Kristin Stewart, Kristin Bell, or Kristin Chenoweth. For fucks sake, my name's not even Kristin, my name is LC, and I am a shopaholic, not a celebrity, and I don't do red carpet appearances, I work a 9-5 job. Besides, I won't be going out much these days. I will be focusing on making my life better, not worrying about guys or any other BS. And unless they're going to help me alleviate stress or find a solution to my problems, they can erase my number from their phones, because I don't have time for their games, either.

Lesson #3: Good friends are hard to find, and even harder to keep. The ones who are true are going to stand by me through this hard time, and once I get through it, I'll find out who sticks around in the end, and I'll be a better person for it. If they can love me, even when we're NOT perusing the shoe department at Barney's, they're someone worth keepin' around.

To quote the semi-annoying bitches on my new least favorite show, Pretty Wild:
"And so it is."

Even If MY Voice Shakes...

A long time ago, I decided to start writing this blog because I was mistreated. I got ready one morning, slipped on my Charles David wedges, the strappy gold ones that coordinated nicely with my white, crisp cotton summer shorts and breezy, loose fitting light blue top with the gold detailing and Swarovski crystal adornments around the bustline from Sky Couture, (a favorite that I bought at Electric Ladyland); my tan was golden; my hair was highlighted, my bronzer was on, and my lipgloss was poppin', yo'.

That might have been more information than you needed, but I thought I'd give you a clear mental image of what I was workin' with.

I went to my salon at the time, Dolce, and the front counter girls were total bitches to me. Not only were they incredibly rude to me, even my hairdresser had to apologize for the comments they made, and they lost the little cardigan I had brought along with me in case it got cold, and didn't even apologize. I didn't respond by throwing a bitch fit. No, I didn't even get an attitude. That, my friends, was the beginning of the end.

It was the beginning of me taking shit lying down. It was the beginning of me, compromising myself, and what I knew was WRONG, so that I could make other people happy. It was the start of being lazy and allowing myself to be complacent and be the victim instead of being the strong, empowered bitch who stands up and says, "Oh hell to the NO you did NOT just do me wrong, I'm taking BACK my power and I will NOT accept being mistreated, used, abused, or disrespected."

I wasn't raised to be this pathetic girl who lets her life fall apart. I was raised to move forward on a road, not get caught up in a bump, or, in my case, a big freakin' pothole.

I'm in a major life cul-de-sac. Professionally, personally, financially. So, I'm using my blog as a portal for changing that for myself. I've used this as a diary of my shopping hits & misses; the things I love & hate, things that I rave about, things that work, and things that just never will. I plan to use this my blog, from this point on, as a way to share with you exactly how I'm digging myself out of this mess otherwise known as my life.

Surely, if I have issues, 10 million other people do, too. And if they do, their friends do. Why are more people not HONEST about this kind of shit? I hate when everyone thinks the solution to their problems is to be all 'self-help aisle, sunshine and flowers, life is just picture-perfect, I just caught some lemons, lets all make freakin' lemonade now,' about the whole thing. Just be real. Sometimes, life sucks. Sometimes, you hold your feelings in for so long, you want to scream, and cry, and you feel like you're bursting at the seams. Sometimes everything bothers you at one time and it just pisses you off, but you don't know WHO to talk to about it. And sometimes you feel almost GUILTY for feeling anything at ALL.

For anyone who's ever felt that way, but never felt right being brutally honest about it; for anyone who ever wanted to talk, but didn't have a voice; for anyone who wanted to admit they had a problem, and just wanted to blow the lid off that bitch and blow that shit wide open, this is for you.

We're going to solve my problems, and your problems, one day at a time.

And in between, I'll talk to you about the things I still love...like fashion, beauty, and shopping.

Even though, since one of my major life problems happens to be the D word right now (DEBT, not DICKHEADS, although I have problems with a few dickheads right now, too) I will not be shopping for quite some time, I will still feature all the best of the best on Dreaming in Dior, because you might as well enjoy all the creme de la creme, where shopping, beauty, and style is concerned.

So, topics we will cover...and the issues I'll work on:
--FINANCIAL MESSINESS: (i.e.--paying for all the shoes, Starbucks, 5-star hotels, Egyptian cotton bedding, expensive perfume, diamond earrings, & Amazon.com purchases I made over the past 5 years, as well as the HOSPITAL BILLS and MEDICAL EXPENSES I had to PAY FOR MYSELF because my EMPLOYERS did not reinstate my HEALTH INSURANCE.)
--HEALTH: Getting rid of these horrible migraine headaches so I no longer have to take these awful pills they've prescribed me, because I no longer can taste food. And I? Love cooking and baking more than Julia Child. One way might be for me to find something to do daily that actually makes me happy and joyful again.
--PERSONAL: Being honest about what I want. After I read the book "Eat Pray Love," the one thing that resonated with me was that she acknowledged that she had this emptiness inside herself and a void that needed to be filled. So often we KNOW what that void really IS. I actually KNOW what mine is. I just need to fill it...

If the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, consider this my first.

At least I can say I'm beginning my voyage in really cute shoes.

Sometimes You've Just Got To Get Away With the Girls

It's safe to say that 9 out of every 10 American women would claim to be THE biggest Sex and the City fans, ever. I am one of the millions of women who own every season of Sex and the City on DVD, who stood in line to watch the movie when it came out in theatres, and who are anxiously awaiting the release of the second movie, which will hit theatres in May. Not only am I a huge fan of Patricia Field, the legendary costume designer and fashion authority who outfitted Carrie and the girls and created looks that launched a thousand shopping trips, I am also working on a project about Sex and the City (more details to come at a later date--after I finish it. I don't like to start things and not finish them. It is a major pet peeve of mine, and unfortunately, seems to be happening to me a lot more in recent times.)

In two months, we will all be treated to a bonafide 2 hour fashion show with Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha...so dust off your martini glasses, girls, because this is a date you simply can't stand up.

Fendi For the Label Whores in All of Us

It's no big secret that I'm a label whore. A few years ago, when I was deciding what type of car to purchase for myself, April & I were looking online at different models. Of course, we completely disregarded the list of reliable, practical, dependable cars that my Dad, the mechanic (read: expert/professional) had made for me. I was much more interested in getting her second opinion on chic, stylish vehicles that I could scoot around town in, preferably with a nice label attached to the car.

"Buy a Benz," April recommended. "It's all about the label," she said.

I ended up buying a less expensive vehicle with a great warranty, but my love of labels still persists in other areas today. Even though I might buy generic for some things, I will admit to enjoying the flash of a little label appeal every now and then, providing it's not overkill.

It's no wonder, then, that I loved these Fendi Zucca slingbacks, which are perfect for work-to-evening transitioning, and they dress up even the simplest $5.00 cocktail dress. With a label like that all over your feet, you'll have a status symbol attached to your toesies while also dressing up what you've already got hanging in your closet. Talk about a style revamp.

To pick up a pair of Fendi slingbacks for yourself, visit Neiman Marcus stores near you, or NeimanMarcus.com. These heels were $645, no small price to pay, but definitely well worth it for those of us who are self-proclaimed label whores.

Dear Megan Fox...

Dear Megan Fox,

I heard today that you went on record saying you've only had two sexual partners in your life. Look, girl. I want to go on record saying that I am all about people learning to mind their own f*#@*%g business, okay? So I'm not trying to get all Mitt Romney on your ass, and start judging you for the things you do behind closed doors. You wanna partake in big wild orgies? Hey, be my guest, sweetie. I for one am not a conservative, I'm not even a big fan of single strands of pearls, or the Ralph Lauren clothing section at Macy's, or Brooks Brother's suits.

Back to my original point, Megan Fox. And I do have one, by the way. I think you're a pretty girl, so I won't take that away from you. Thank God you're pretty, because you're not all that smart. So why on earth would you feel compelled to lie to the press about how many people you've slept with? Why even bring it up at all? Who's business is it anyway? Secondly, when one of them happens to be Brian Austin Green, the only two people in America you're really making jealous, are me, and his baby's mama, Vanessa Marcil, because I've had a major crush on David Silver since 90210 when he was anxiously awaiting the day when Donna would let him pop her cherry. Evidently, you've been pulling the same shit with him. What's up with Brian Austin and these pseudo-virgins? Just give it to him already. I mean, if I had lived in 90210 instead of this bullshit 85273 poor excuse for a hometown my parents raised us in, I wouldn't have been the last American virgin in high school, that's for sure. Brian Austin, you and I would have been the toast of Beverly Hills.

I also have to say to you, before I end this note, that I think it's tragic that you feel compelled to lie about your "number" but that you're not admitting to being a lesbian. Look, I'm 100% about the men, I love men and all the complications and drama that comes with them. So I happen to be a straight woman. But I have plenty of gay friends, and I appreciate and support their lifestyle and choices.

That being said, there's nothing I hate more than gays and lesbians who are so afraid to come out of the closet that they stay in there like a Prada jacket from three seasons ago. Come out, already, before the moths start to eat you. (Literally, and figuratively.)

Megan, there's a reason you've only admitted to 2 sexual partners, honey. It's because the rest of them? Were women.

Miss Fox, come out, come out, wherever you are!

Sincerely,

LC

Miss Cyrus Gets It Right

A few months back, I wrote a blog about Little Miss Cyrus, because she was busy straddling stripper poles in cowboy boots all over the continental United States (or, on an awards show.) I wasn't the only one who found this problematic. (Hey, if Billy Ray has his head up his ass, someone has to comment on her teenage stripper antics.)

All the negative press she received after that performance definitely went to the wayside after her appearance on the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Miley looked stunning in this gown, and, regardless of what Joan effing Rivers might say otherwise, I thought she looked put together, classy, and age-appropriate.

Miley, stay off the stripper poles, honey, no matter what party in the USA is goin on, we don't need to see teenagers dancing like Demi Moore in Striptease, thanks. Hire a stylist, and keep wearing gowns like this one. You'll be sure to stay off the "worst-dressed lists." Major kudos for this red carpet thumbs-up, though.

xoxo,
LC

P.S.--Seeing as how your Dad once wore a mullet as his signature look, you should never, ever take fashion advice from him. Just sayin'...

I Just Kicked You to the Curb...In My Red High Heels.

I realize I write a blog about fashion, shopping, beauty, and style. But the one lesson I've learned above all, ladies & gentlemen, is that NO woman can truly be beautiful unless she loves herself first. That means, respecting herself enough to be HONEST and REAL about what she needs, wants, and deserves. No pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals, no Chloe handbag or Gucci sunglasses or Hermes scarf will make you feel completely whole unless you know who you are, and unless you put on your best pair of heels and walk in the direction of what you want. Those who choose to follow you, and walk beside you, and hold your hand, need to know what you're worth, too. And if they don't, then by all means, baby girl...kick 'em to the curb.

In your red high heels. ;)

HERE IS LC's "Song of the Week", a tribute, to any girl who is too afraid to ask for what she wants. Whenever you feel like that, girl, remember the newest pair of Jimmy Choo heels. If one Neiman Marcus won't hook a sister up, there are PLENTY of other designer retailers out there who will. ;) And, FYI, yes, you're WORTH it.

Baby I’ve got plans tonight
You don’t know nothin’ about
I’ve been sitting around way too long
Trying to figure you out
But you say that you’ll call and you don’t
And I’m spinning my wheels
So I’m going out tonight
In my red high heels

I’m gonna call up that old boyfriend
You said still has it bad for me
I’m gonna take him into town
Flaunt him around for everyone to see
Well you said so yourself
You know the deal
Nobody holds a candle to me
In my red high heels

Well you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

All those games you tried to play
Well they ain`t gonna work on me now
I put up a barbed wire fence
around my heart
Baby just to keep you out
Well you thought I’d wait around forever
But baby get real
I just kicked you to the curb
In my red high heels

Mr & Mrs Marc Anthony on the Red Carpet

Jennifer Lopez has always been one of my favorite celebrities. I can honestly say that if I have achieved any successes in my life, her influence, and her example of hard work and what can happen when you chase your dreams, probably pushed me to want more for myself and my life than any other actress. One of the things I love about JLo is that she always does what she wants, regardless of what others may think; she follows her heart even when she might get chastised for it.

So when she married Marc Anthony, and everyone said, "What is she thinking? She's too pretty for him!" or, "JLo is a homewrecker! Marc already had a wife and children at home, and he was running around with Jennifer all this time! What an asshole! What a whore!" The truth is, I was happy for them both. Jennifer and Marc were not only very close friends, they motivated each other professionally, and he was there to help her through every one of her breakups and broken hearts and divorces. They belonged together, regardless of what the haters had to say about it.

When they showed up at the Oscars this year, dressed to the hilt, looking fab, I couldn't have been happier. And though Jennifer might receive some negative press for her dress choice, this gown looks incredible on her, and her hair made her look younger and graceful. Not to mention, Marc looked handsome next to her...and they looked happy, which is what matters most.

I once read a quote from Jennifer Lopez in InStyle Magazine, where she said, "I'm in love with being in love." Well, love certainly suits Mrs. Marc Anthony just fine, because she, and Marc, stole the spotlight at the Academy Awards. Hopefully we will see many more films to come from JLo, and we'll see Marc, right by her side.

Shout with GLEE

I don't keep up with many TV shows that run during the week. (Somehow or another, I managed to get hooked on Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters, as well as the new 90210, probably because Kelly Taylor is still on the show--Kelly was the one I always loved the most on the original 90210. I always love the incredibly flawed women on TV shows.) But getting back to the original topic at hand, the likelihood that I will get hooked on a TV show that runs Monday through Friday is not high.

So it's no surprise I had no idea what my friends were referring to when they were talking about "Glee." When I saw this girl on the red carpet, however, I thought to myself, "Now there's one girl who is not a hot mess...on or off the red carpet." She looked great in a modern, trendy, yet classy little dress, and was tasteful, yet eye catching.

I think Lea Michele has many years ahead, not just on this TV show, but others, and plenty of red carpet events to attend. And if she continues to wear clothing as gorgeous as this dress, she will defintely make everyone shout with glee.

Fashionable Food for Thought

LC's Quote for the Day:

“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say and not giving a damn.”
– Gore Vidal