Friday, August 31, 2012

review: wahoo grill, decatur

I've been to Wahoo previously for dinner, but I returned over the weekend for brunch. Despite being a relatively leafy, green city, Atlanta doesn't have that many spots for outdoor dining that don't incorporate battling a ton of mosquitos in a relatively climate controlled environment. (I like to pretend that I'm engaging with nature without getting rural about it.) Wahoo's "patio" pretty much sums up my ideal outdoor dining experience. With shuttered windows and large glass doors with an open layout decorated with green nature things, it's the perfect place to drink your way through the weekend.

I'd be remiss if I didn't say a few words about their menu, which is pretty incredible. It's got all the southern comforts you'd ever want with great options for your vegetarian friends. I'm also in love with their drink menu. Be prepared to get a slight kick with your brunch because these libations don't disappoint. Let's get tipsy!

Breakfast burrito with hash
Tofu scramble

Wahoo Grill
1042 West College Ave.
Decatur, Ga. 30030
(404) 373-3331

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

13. the cloud, that's cute

I think it's so cute when old people try to talk about social media with me. I especially like when they try to use all the buzz words they know in one sentence. The best part is when they mention "the cloud."


Too cute.

And they're just so blissfully unaware that everything they've been using ever is cloud-related. 

Stop depending on Time Magazine to tell you what's cool, old people. Just talk to your kids. They know more about it than some 40-year-old whose aversion to technology parallels a cat's fear to water.

ph. by Jinah

Chloe 'Kirsten' wedges
Celine micro luggage tote

Monday, August 27, 2012

oh hey: theyskens theory ying


Theyskens' Theory 'Ying' loafers
Scored from the online Barneys Warehouse sale, the place where I sold a small piece of my soul.

Friday, August 24, 2012

12. girls who like boys who like boys

There are very few things about my life that I'm so emphatically positive were meant to happen. One of those is that I was born to be a hag.*

Like every girl who grew up obsessed with fashion in the late 90s/early 00s, I was introduced to gay men by "Sex and the City." In addition to the dream apartment in UWS and a closet filled with designer clothes, I knew that I needed to be around a giant group of gay men. Unfortunately, I attended a Catholic high school and my dreams of meeting an openly gay man would be delayed for a few years.

Fast forward to the summer of 2005. I was slated to leave for a semester abroad in England and was trolling through the Facebook group when I stumbled upon the most awesome profile ever. These were the early days of Facebook where we all shamelessly listed our interests, favorite artists, films, etc. and made our profiles as enormously long as possible. Favorite movie? The Little Mermaid. Favorite artist? Britney Spears. Then there were a series of photos of him taking photos of himself, Korean selca-style. Finally, someone whose narcissism matched my own. I think that's when I knew we were going to be friends.

Years later and many boys later, my gaggle of gays has grown, and I can't imagine a night out without an entourage or the biting commentary on Atlanta's terrible sense of dress at night. But just as you can't ever truly forget your first love, I could never sever ties to my first GBF. Who else would have an epic fight with me and then go see a wack psychic in the suburbs of Orlando? Or join me on an alcoholic binge trip to Paris? Love you forever, b!

*I don't have an issue with this word, but I know some people do. I've used it here because it's too long to type "princess of ATL gays" repeatedly.


Topshop Moto denim shirt
Forever 21 floral tulle skirt
Chloe red laser wedge sandals
vintage Gucci doctor bag

Friday, August 17, 2012

11. where were you in 97

So, I'm having this walk down nostalgia lane all over again because of this new drama called "Answer Me 1997." While this drama revolves around 18-year-olds in Korea and their lives in 1997 (Tamagotchis, Guess t-shirts, and the H.O.T./Sechskiss rivalry), it was a crucial year for me, too.

That was the year I discovered the Backstreet Boys. By Christmas, I could recite all of Brian Littrell's parts on their self-titled album. It was also the year I cemented the ties of my middle school clique. The six of us were inseparable until the last day of 8th grade. It was also the year "Titanic" was released. I sat in a broken chair in a packed theater for over 3 hours. My butt cramp barely let me walk out of the theater.

I bought my first pair of heels in 1997. They were a pair of square loafers with stacked heels from Old Navy.  I also rocked my flair Levis so hard that year - I credit them for helping me get my first "boyfriend" whose ability to wear JNCOs and clumsily skate across the school lot made the greatest single impression on me.

Ahhhh, 1997. I didn't know it then, but you were one of the best years of my life.

Share your '97 memories in the comments!


Madewell lace tank
Tibi 'Horatio' striped skort
Chloe red laser cut wedge sandals
Gucci vintage doctor bag

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

10. how low can you go

On the first day of English during my senior year of high school, the teacher asked everyone to make a small introduction of themselves to the class. When it came to be my turn, my mouth got the better of me and somehow I said something along the lines of how I wouldn't put it past me to marry for money. Of course, this was a crazy statement to make (in most social situations, much less in a high school English class), so in one single moment I managed to make half the class hate me and the other half flabbergasted while a small minority gave me props for being "real."

I didn't mean the statement as a point of controversy or to be completely truthful. Most of the time, I say things for shock value. And then when the shock is shown on the other person's face, I like to take it to the next extreme. 

As a child, I was always a tester. I was that little shit in the backseat who would kick the back of the driver's seat while the car was in motion. Then, when a [booty] whooping was eminent, I would kick a little bit more to cement its inevitability. 

Looking back, it was probably more truthful than I was willing to admit - not in the whole Anna Nicole type of way, but in a more muted sense. As much as you like to think of yourself as a "free" spirit, the fact is that there's a nice comfortability in knowing that your significant other/spouse has had similar life experiences as you, especially the ones that you hold the most important and crucial to your personal development.


Topshop chambray shirt
H&M neoprene floral dress (in stores now)
Jeffrey Campbell x Pixie Market 'Daul' Painterly II sandals
Tom Ford 'Nikita' cat eye sunglasses
Celine orange trio

Thursday, August 9, 2012

[travel] montreal, osheaga 2012

I've been sitting in front of my computer screen debating on how to start this post. I'm just now starting to remember what it feels like to be clean, but I haven't quite been able to shake off the feeling of physical exhaustion. Is this a reminder of how I was the oldest one out of the entire Montreal group? Osheaga, as fun as it was, pretty much cemented the idea that it was the last music festival for me. Now that I've done the camping and the non-camping ones, the only way you'd get me back on muddy grounds while risking early adult deafness is through a VIP ticket.

Jinah and me
On Jinah: Brandy Melville shirt, Madewell jean shorts, saltwater sandals
On me: Christopher Kane x Topshop shirt, Blank studded denim shorts, Converse, Zara fringe bag

On me: Monki top, Sway Chic orange skirt, Converse
On Jinah: tiger print top, Cambridge Satchel in neon pink


For the three full days that we were in Montreal, I would say that I spent around 10% of my time outside of our rented house/Parc Jean Drapeau. I have no idea what going to Montreal is like as a tourist, not a music festival goer. That said, we stopped at this delicious cafe on our first day.


And then the rest of it was at Osheaga.


How would I describe Osheaga? Osheaga is Bonnaroo's retarded little sister. There weren't very many food options that didn't include something that came out of a package or a frozen food box. Are a vegetarian? I guess you'll be eating poutine. Probably without the cheese. Vegan? Get ready to starve. Oh wait, you could get corn for $2 a pop.

The water stations were few and sparse, and the ones that were available had giant lines, sometimes 40 people deep. Bathrooms? I wouldn't be able to tell you since I didn't go. NOT ONCE. NOT ONCE FOR THREE DAYS. I didn't see them clean the port-a-potties and didn't even want to fathom what going inside a heated cesspool would be like.

And for someone who likes to drink as much as me, you better find some empty space in your bra to cart around some mini liquor bottles. Unless you have a taste for bitch beers (i.e. Bacardi Breezers) which cost you $4.75 per bottle.

Aside from the festival logistics and all the bros crawling around the venue, I had no complaints about the line up.

Franz Ferdinand
A$AP Rocky
Little Dragon
But the fashion, at most points, assaulted me. It was like Montreal got a giant shipment of high waisted shorts and every single girl at Osheaga bought a pair. Girls: high waisted shorts are probably not your friend. If you have hips, they look terrible on you. If you don't have hips, they look terrible on you. Let's just go ahead and declare that they only look good on models and call it a day. Also, bros, please stop with the cheap neon sunglasses. It just makes you look like a "tool," especially when you're spilling your bitch beer on everyone.

High waisted shorts in every single style imaginable.
After attending Osheaga, what would I recommend wearing? Work out gear. Stock up on that Lululemon like Jinah and you will be fully equipped for every single type of weather Mother Nature throws your way. Rain? Intense heat? Sweat proof shorts and comfortable sports bras have you covered.

Oh, and ditch the open toed shoes because your feet will look like this.

That's not a farmer's tan. It's dirt.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

psa: osheaga bound

Going to Montreal for a few days to dance around Parc Jean Drapeau. Be back next week with all the details. In the meantime, let's chat over Twitter. Tell me your hopes and dreams. (I also really enjoy relaying complaints.) And if you have any Montreal tips, they're greatly appreciated.