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Cruising the Beach in Heels. Wait, What?

Wednesday, June 1st, 2011
By Glinda

I was born, raised, and still live in Southern California.  Yeah, I’m one of those people, wanna make something of it? I have never lived further than a half hour from the beach.  In high school, my friends and I practically lived at the beach during the summer.

And do you know what I’ve never seen in my life until today?

People in heels on the damn beach.

Leave it to Katie Holmes to blaze that trail.

I’ve kept my mouth shut on all the things that have kept her and Suri in the press, from midnight dinners to clutching X-rated candies.  Not a word from me. 

Let Suri take her shoes off, for the love of all that is holy.  She is at the BEACH.  It was not at all hot in Southern California this weekend, so there will be no theorizing that the sand was too hot to go shoeless.  That and all the other people in the picture have no shoes. 

One of the pleasures of going to the beach is the tactile feeling of walking on sand.  Feeling it beneath and between your toes, noting how it changes texture and temperature as you get closer to the water. 

I don’t care if they were at a party in a house prior to walking down the steps onto the beach.  That is where the parent is supposed to say, “Hey honey, let’s go walk on the beach!  Take off your shoes and let’s go!” Not “Yes, let us keep our fancy schmancy shoes on in the sand where the heels will sink in and we will get sand in our shoes, which is actually pretty uncomfortable and not much fun at all.”


Or maybe crazily rich people don’t allow their, or their children’s, feet to touch something as common as sand.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Sunday, May 8th, 2011
By Glinda


I cannot believe that in the four years I have been here, that I have never posted this.  Erma Bombeck was the original, and the best.

My Favorite Child

Every mother has a favorite child. She cannot help it.  She is only human. I have mine. That child for whom I felt a special closeness.  The one I reach out to in a rare moment, to share a love that no one else could possibly understand.
My favorite child is the one who was too sick to eat the ice cream at his birthday party, had measles at Christmas and wore leg braces to bed because he toed in.
She was the fever the middle of the night, the asthma attack, the child in my arms at the emergency ward.
My favorite child spent Christmas alone away from the family, was stranded after the game with a gas tank on E, lost the money for his class ring.
My favorite child is the one who screwed up the piano recital, misspelled committee in a spelling bee, ran the wrong way with the football and had his bike stolen because he was careless.
My favorite child is the one who fell asleep over an assignment on China that the teacher never bothered to grade, flunked her drivers license test five times and told us she could hardly wait to get out of the house.
My favorite child is the one I punished for lying, grounded for insensitivity to other people’s feelings and informed he was a royal pain to the entire family.
My favorite child slammed doors in frustration, cried when she didn’t think I saw her, withdrew and said she could not talk to me.
My favorite child always needed a haircut, had hair that wouldn’t curl, had no date for Saturday night and a car that cost $1000 to fix.
My favorite child said dumb things for which there were no excuses. He was selfish, immature, bad tempered and self-centered. He was vulnerable, lonely, unsure of what he was doing in this world . . . and quite wonderful.
The one I loved the most is the one whom I have watched struggle and-because the struggle was his-done nothing.
All mothers have their favorite child.
 It is always the same one, the one who needs you at the moment for whatever reason-to cling to, to shout at, to hurt, to hug, to flatter, to reverse charges to, to unload on, to use-but mostly to be there.

Moms We Love to Hate*: Victoria Beckham

Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
By Glinda

Oh Posh.

When I heard that your next baby is going to be a girl, I rolled my eyes. Not because I am unhappy that you are finally adding some of that good old double X into the family, but because I thought, great, now I’m going to have to sit there and compare what my daughter is wearing against what your daughter is wearing.

And really, since you have about a gazillion more dollars than I do, I’m thinking your daughter is going to wind up in the winner’s column more often than not. Today I was just happy that she had an outfit that matched and was clean so that we could go to the park without me looking like I haven’t done the laundry in four days. Uhhh, that would be allegedly.

But I’ve always had a little something against you, and I’m certainly always ready to make fun of you and your naked public displays and your penchant for wearing high heels in what seem to be inappropriate situations.  I actually haven’t even scratched the surface with those posts, actually, but I’ve only got so much time in the day, you know?

To be honest, I’d sort of forgotten about you a little bit.  The news about your baby girl has put you back in the spotlight, to be sure. But how could I forget the face that portrays some of the most dour expressions I’ve ever seen?  Who could not love that face, even just a little bit?

You claim to really be a million laughs and just a regular gal, despite your cars worth a hundred grand or so with your husband’s jersey number monogrammed on the headrests and all of your designer duds and bling.

Listen, the only way you could convince me you are just a run of the mill soccer mom is if I were to open up the door of your family-toting vehicle and find that just like me, there are old water bottles, cheap prizes won at the local fair, and socks with no matches floating around on the floor.  Just like mine.

Until then, a woman like you, with a man like this, ain’t no regular gal.

*If you think Posh is just the bee’s knees, then consider this a royal “we.”

Rachel Zoe, Pregnancy Noob

Tuesday, January 25th, 2011
By Glinda

I have never watched her “reality” show, but I do know that she is a professional stylist (despite some questionable personal ensembles I’ve seen her in) to some big-name stars.

And now I know that I want her to go away.

You see, Rachel Zoe is pregnant, and whoopee for her. I mean that, truly, good for her.

However, her recent suggestions on how to dress to “pregnant per-fect-ion” are obviously from someone who has yet to experience their third trimester.

Responding to a reader-submitted question for style ideas while pregnant, Zoe replies:

As opposed to former generations, we are fortunate to live in a fashion-forward age that accommodates to style for every body, size and situation—pregnancy included. For example, both 1. 7 For All Mankind and 2. J Brand make maternity jeans (praise the denim gods!), which are a flawless starting point for a prego-chic look.

Other free form bottoms that are perfect for pregnancy are 3. leggings and 4. maxi skirts or full length dresses. Take your pick of the three styles and then you’re ready to tackle the waist up! For tops, I recommend 5. long tunics, 6. flowy blouses and 7. ponchos to flatter your mom-to-be figure.

Shifting focus to footwear—my fave!—you can stay stylish yet at ease in a pair of 8. wedges or 9. flats. Create any combination from each category—bottoms, tops and shoes—and you will be pregnant per-fec-tion! xoRZ

P.S. One last thing! Don’t forget to complete your modern maternity look by accessorizing with a big tote bag and a pair of do-not-disturb oversized sunnies to hide fatigue!

A poncho? Did I read that correctly? Has Ms. Zoe not read the Manolo’s “No Poncho Pledge?”  Not only does she recommend a friggin’ poncho, it just so happens to be a four hundred dollar poncho!  So you too can pay a fortune to look like a large, misshapen lump!  I mean, even more than you already do!

And the wedges she wants you to wear? Five inches on those suckers, at a cost of two hundred dollars.  So that everyone can admire your great taste in shoes as you fall on your ass and land with your feet in the air due to your center of gravity being completely off.

Then she wants us to wear sunglasses to “hide fatigue.” What? Does she not know that pregnant women should wear their fatigue proudly?  That the very fatigue she wants to so desperately hide is exactly what compels your guilty-feeling husband to give you back and foot massages every day?  Don’t hide the fatigue ladies, flaunt it!

The rest of her advice is very generic, and I can’t believe she gets paid to tell pregnant women they should wear tunics, flowy blouses, and maxi-dresses.  Like this is some sort of earth-shattering new fashion advice.

And listen, anyone who calls sunglasses “sunnies” is someone with whom I will never be friends.

Best and Worst Baby Names of 2010

Tuesday, December 21st, 2010
By Glinda

According to the Daily Beast, anyway…

At the top were names such as Louis Bardo, Marcello Daniel, and Cosima.  All right, I’m down with those.  But Billie Beatrice? Amadeus Benedict Edley Luis? Nelly May Lois?  I’m sorry, but I am so not feeling them.  For some reason, I don’t like when girls are named boy names. I know, I’m an old fogey and anti-feminist, but I just think that when I see a name on a piece of paper, I should know if it is a boy or girl.  Feel free to flog me publicly.  Don’t get me started on the Amadeus one, which the site praises for it’s mix of “style, ethnicities, and eras.” Do they not know people are going to follow him around on the playground singing the refrain to a rather bad but unforgettable 80’s pop song? And Nelly May Lois sounds like someone who spends most of her time being mean to people at a bingo parlor.

At the bottom were gems like  Buddy Bear Maurice, Sundance Thomas, and Draco.  Jamie Oliver (who is currently winning his CDF round) is perpetrator of the Ursa major, and Draco comes courtesy of one former Ms. Winnie Cooper.  I’m not totally up in arms about Draco, though.  At least it’s a literary name, not one that’s made up.  They also slammed Vera Farmiga about her choice of name, which was an ethnic Lithuanian one.  I’m not cool with making fun of names from other cultures, so I take issue with that one.

It’s a hectic week my friends, so posting this week? Totally on the light and fluffy side… Hope you don’t mind.

Helena Bonham Carter- Full of Awesome

Wednesday, December 1st, 2010
By Glinda

You know, she may be a bit on the cray-cray side of the fashion spectrum, but there is no denying that this quote, given in this interview, is refreshingly down-to-earth:

“The parenting bit is much harder than the acting bit,” Bonham Carter said. “You just never know what to do. So me and Tim were sort of fed up with getting hurt. ‘What do we now?’ But the parenting class has been really useful. It’s a bit like Parenting Anonymous. There’s a group of parents just spewing out their latest trauma of the week. ’I’m Helena, and I’m a mother.’

Can you imagine many other famous actresses uttering something so humble?  I mean, there are quite a few who do the old “fake humble” thing where they gush about how their kids’ poopy diapers keep them grounded, but to attend a parenting class with other parents?  And sit there and say, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing?”


Helena, I will have tea with you any day of the week, and trust me, I’ve got lots of parenting trauma stories to share.

And we can also talk about how your son looks exactly like your husband.

Katherine Heigl W Cover

Wednesday, November 10th, 2010
By Glinda

Even though she is beautiful and her daughter is beautiful, I am not in love with this cover.

Am I wrong in thinking that Naleigh is looking almost resentfully at the camera? 

Moms We Love to Hate: Gisele Bundchen

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010
By Glinda

Again, if you love Gisele Bundchen, then it’s a royal “we,” darlings.

But flitting about on the internets, it seems there is not necessarily a huge contingent of Gisele fans.  Well, female ones, anyway. 

I know she’s a supermodel and all that, but I’ve never thought she was all that attractive.  And trust me, I can totally admit when someone is more beautiful than myself.  There are a lot of them out there.  But Gisele has never done it for me as a model.

Let’s start with the fact that she began dating Tom (Justin Bieber Hair) Brady when his then-girlfriend was pregnant.  That automatically sort of leaves a bad taste in my mouth, even though there might have been some extenuating circumstances I don’t know about.  At least try not to make it public until absolutely necessary, in my opinion.

Then she got married to him and became pregnant.  Good for her.

Except, she lorded over everyone how easy and pain-free her birth experience was.  And she didn’t preface it with any comments about how it was just her experience, and how other women might have very painful births indeed.  Nope, she just tried to make everyone else feel inferior to her badass waterbirth self.  She had no pain because she was so damn hopeful.  Right.

Then, apprarently oblivious to the negative press she was already getting, she gave interviews claiming that her six month old son was potty trained.  Gisele, I hate to tell you, but there is a huge difference between you as a mother reading signals and holding the child over the toilet, and actually being potty trained.  Yes, I know all about elimination communication, and I’m going to stand firm and say that until the baby can get themselves up on a toilet without parental assistance , then that doesn’t count as potty trained. 

And really, I’m not sure I could like anyone who would allow their formerly hot husband to go out in public looking like an aging Justin Bieber. Seriously.

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