It's all the Greek you need to know.

I often hear people say that it's amazing to be a part of something that's so much bigger than yourself. It took me some time to really grasp this concept. When I was younger, my dad told me that the one of the most special parts about being Jewish is that you have an instant connection with so many people you've never even met before. This is how I feel about my sorority.

Au revoir, readers! I'm off to Phoenix, Arizona for my biennial sorority convention. I will have no posting access while I am away. Please check back on Monday, June 28. In the mean time, if you have an idea for the site, want to discuss a book (I just finished Lovehampton!) or would just like to say hello, please email me at jgiwc.tag@gmail.com. I love to hear from my readers!

I will leave you with some snapshots of some of my favorite sorority memories. Have a great week, everyone!


AEG and I on Bid Day our junior year.


AEG and I on Bid Day our senior year.


Me with one of my of my favorite alumna, JCC. I get to see her this weekend!


ACP and I modeling in a Lilly fashion show.


AEG and I at our last Greek Week in our Lilly Letter shirts.


SNG and I at graduation.


BEH, me, MMM and JDS at our sorority holiday party.


AEG and I at Senior Wills.


Me reading my Senior Will; my very last words to the chapter.

Mild sun poisoning... it doesn't sound that bad, right? WRONG.

What better way to celebrate the first official day of summer than to go to the beach? My super sensitive skin + three hours of lying in the sun when it's at its strongest = TAG, what the hey were you thinking?

I did a little online research and I would like to thank eCureMe for the following information.

Mild sun poisoning is defined as red, itchy, scaly skin in patches. Check, check, check, check.

Perfume - especially with lemon oils, is a risk factor. Fresh Lemon Sugar is my summer scent. I wore it to the beach that day. I live for everything lemon scented and would never have guessed that it could be associated with something so heinous.

A word of wisdom from the not-so-wise. WEAR SUNBLOCK. Apply it evenly and in thick layers and while you are still indoors. Do not lay in the sun for three hours.

Despite scalding myself, the rest of the weekend was nice. I got to spend a lot of time with some close girlfriends for dear MMM's birthday.

Here we are pre-poisoned TAG...



...and here we are post-poisoned TAG.



You can bet that I will be stocking up on that new Banana Boat spray. I am one hot child in the city. Literally.

Because high tea in the parlor REALLY DOES make the ladies holler.

Or at least, it makes this lady holler.



I just want to make sure that every single one of my loyal readers has seen this... (CLICK HERE!)

P-Unit FOREVA.

Happy weekend!

Snail mail and whales

While I was walking home from spin class yesterday, I wondered why people aren't nicer. I make a conscious effort to say and do as many wholeheartedly nice things as I can every single day. I'm a big believer that if you send out a lot of good karma, some of it is eventually going to come back your way.

Upon opening my mailbox, I saw a small package tucked behind my weekly copy of Time Out New York. (I know what you're thinking - that magazine is FAR too urban for me. And you're right. I will not be renewing my subscription.) I hungrily grabbed at the little brown envelope, guessing that my sorority had sent me something else in preparation for one of the two conferences I will be attending this year. But, in fact, it was from my dear friend JJH.

After ripping it open excitedly, I saw the most adorable small journal with an elephant on it and a diecut post it pad in the shape of the whale. (My two absolute favorite animals.) I squealed. JJH lives in the city and could have easily met me somewhere to deliver the present in person. JJH knows how much I love and appreciate mail the good old-fashioned way and took the time to go to the post office. JJH is one of the most thoughtful and generous people I know and I am lucky to call her a friend. She is also one of the most talented, creative and funny people I have ever come across. You can see for yourself here.

When I thanked her, she told me that she saw it in the window of the MoMA several times and thought of me, but each time she walked by it was closed. She couldn't resist getting the little goodies for me and finally went back when they were open. I was feeling kind of down and this cheered me right up. It couldn't have arrived on a more perfect day.

I try to send out mail at least once a week, whether it be a gift or a card. When I get back from my sorority convention at the end of the month, I am going to buy a book of stamps and send out mail every day until all of the stamps are gone. I will keep you posted on what I send, but not who I send it to, as mail is always better when it's unexpected.

Just when I'm about to question karma, it always comes around.


JJH and I at my birthday party. I love you! Thanks for making my day.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life

It may be June 21 on the calendar, but Father's Day is the official start of summer in my parents' house.



I don't particularly love the town where my parents live, but I do love hiding away there in the warm months. As much as I love the city in the summer, there is something about being in suburbia on those long dog days. Perhaps it reminds me of my childhood: playing croquet in our front yard in Coral Gables or swimming in our pool with the lion head fountains in Dallas. I feel some sort of youth out there that I can't quite emulate here.

Last night, I went home and my dad and I went through boxes of my things. I flipped through yearbooks, photographs, and love letters. I realized that I can't remember the last time a member of the male species told me that he was crazy about me or something of a similar status. And that made me really sad. How did I have it more together in high school than I do now?

I read an old journal from seventh grade. I had to smile at the fact that I ended each entry with the same sentence: "I hope I have a good day tomorrow." What a smart, simple thought.

I don't know what it is but I constantly feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Life is quiet, and I can't complain, but it's certainly not very exciting as of late. Something needs to HAPPEN.

What I love about summer is that it brings about lots of new possibilities. This is the best time of year. The air is hot and the light is bright and things will change. They have to. I'm not sure about today, but...

I hope I have a good day tomorrow.

We wonder why we're still single... here's why.

I often wonder if I have any male readers (aside from my dad and the few boys I practically force to keep up with this thing). Mensches in madras, if you're out there, this ones for you.

In the words of Sophia Patrillo: Picture It. Associated Supermarket, last night. I'm standing in the Express Line waiting to check out. A man gets in line behind me. He does not appear to be purchasing any groceries.

I bend down to put my empty basket on the floor. I then realize I'm wearing one of those tiny J. Crew tops that you cannot wear underpinnings with, which is fine, because I'm a small girl. But apparently I wasn't careful enough when I leaned over, and upon righting myself this creep is staring at me, smiling, and says, "You can't blame me. You have a good sense of humor, right?"

Yea, bud, I do. But that ain't funny.

Apparently my petrified face wasn't telling enough, because this man continued to pepper me with questions, asking me what I did for a living and if the rotisserie here was any good. I did my best to give one-worded answers politely and then turn away from him, but this didn't seem to work either. You're probably wondering why I haven't left the store by now, but the customer in front of me was moving like molasses and I really, REALLY needed my four items. Mr. Charming then tells me that he's reading a book, something along the lines of 'How to Date', and it advises men to strike up conversation anywhere. He then holds out his hand and says, "Hi, I'm _____". (Your Friendly Neighborhood Pervert? I blocked out his name the moment he uttered it). Finally, it was MY turn. I silently will the checkout girl to move as fast as she possibly can (and for a handsome man to swoop in and save the day - no such luck). Just as I'm about to swipe my credit card, he says, "So, you want to get a drink tonight?"

After looking around in disbelief to see if anyone was witnessing this, (of course not - no one is EVER around when weird crap happens to me) I did what any self respecting girl would have: Lied, said I had a boyfriend, paid with cash because it is much faster, and got the hell out of there. But not before he tried to make more small talk with me and purchased an impromptu muffin, because as I said, he got in line behind me empty-handed.

First of all, I need to find the author of this so-called 'book' and write him a letter.

Second, what is my life?

And finally, I'm still trying to get over the fact that there are boys out there who would actually rather date a boring girl with zero personality and hair that resembles muppet fur than a girl who bakes Funfetti and writes thank you notes and lives in sundresses and spends a great deal of her time laughing. I don't need to be afraid of going to the market alone, too.

Never have the words 'Ooey' and 'Gooey' sounded quite so irresistible.

Summer, to me, means my favorite Southern food. Which means my favorite Southern chef... PAULA DEEN!

I was lucky enough to visit Savannah last year and eat at The Lady and Sons during my stay. I think I gained 5 pounds from that meal alone, and every ounce was more than worth it.


Waiting in line to eat at The Lady and Sons... Yes, there is a line. A long one.


The Host Stand... FINALLY!


The door!

I want to share my favorite Paula Deen dessert recipe. It's called "Ooey Gooey Butter Cake". I haven't had it since last summer. My mom made a bunch of Paula's recipes for my graduation party and I ate every last bite of that damn thing. I'm dying to make one as it's the perfect summer treat, but I think first I have to gather up a bunch of people to share it with. Otherwise, I'm going to look like a fright in my new madras bikini!

Cake
1 (18.25-ounce) box yellow cake mix
1 egg
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted
Filling
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
2 eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 (16-ounce) box confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a 13x9x2-inch baking pan.
In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine cake mix, egg, and butter and mix well. Pat into the bottom of prepared pan and set aside.
Still using an electric mixer, beat cream cheese until smooth; add eggs and vanilla. Dump in confectioners' sugar and beat well. Reduce speed of mixer and slowly pour in butter. Mix well.
Pour filling onto cake mixture and spread evenly. Bake for 40 to 50 minutes. Don't be afraid to make a judgment call on the cooking time, because oven temperatures can vary. You want the center to be a little gooey, so don't bake it past that point!
Remove from oven and allow to cool completely. Cut into squares.

Thanks to The Recipe Link (and Paula!) for this info!

Happy Father's Day!

Daddy... Thank you for being my hero! I love you!

The Hamptons: An affluent playground for the Jews and the Wasps. AKA TAG Heaven.

In an attempt to get my mind off of... my life, I wandered into Barnes & Noble yesterday in search of a good beach read. Since I didn't have any sand to sit on, my bed would have to suffice. And it did.

Admittedly, I walked into B&N hoping I'd walk out with Lovehampton. Falling in love and vacationing in the Hamptons are two of my favorite activies. How could I not love such a title? I've seen the book in at least half a dozen magazines by now so I figured it'd be front and center. After not finding it on the 'Beach Reads' or 'New Fiction' tables, I sighed and came across this:



How the Other Half Hamptons by Jasmin Rosemberg. I won't give too much away, and after putting the book down at three this morning and finally falling asleep, I'm close to finishing. The time has now come, however, for me to address one of the most controversial topics of New York City life: the Hamptons share.

To share or not to share? A question I've asked myself countless times. This book, decidedly, chooses the former. It follows three Jewish girls (not once has religion been mentioned in the book, but you just know) and their summer half share in a house on the infamous Montauk Highway. (Yes, the one with Lobster Roll and The Dump Across the Street from Lobster Roll. Such a good highway.) The book is a fast and funny read and hits the nail on the head about young NYC life. ("What are you drinking?" "Grey Goose and soda." Why should he have to know that the drink she just finished was really well vodka? BINGO! I'm a Ketel One girl, however.)

I think the fact that I have only done the Hamptons with my parents is what's hindering me from making the same decision. Thus far, I've been chauffeured around the East End in a Mercedes station wagon. I've lunched at Cittanuova and dinnered at Harvest. I've bought to my heart's content (the amount of shopping bags the four of us bring home far outnumbers our luggage, and we oftentimes have trouble closing the hatchback). We're back at the condo and in bed by a reasonable hour. I've only had good, clean, family fun. To cohabitate with upwards of dozens of horny, drunk twenty somethings sounds intriguing, sure, but also quite different than the only Hamptons experience I know. I'm not sure how well I would fare out there depending solely on Tuna Cabs and a barbeque grill.

Not to say that there aren't people who don't do some of these same activities while summering in a share house. But this novel tells of no such tale. Those precious weekends revolve around sunning, drinking, and hooking up. Food and shelter are nowhere near the top of the survival list. It's a whole different side of the big H. It is, precisely, how the other half Hamptons.

So, will I ever do it? I'm not sure. I'd prefer to strike it rich, buy my parents a house there, put a big bow on it and casually point out the car window as we roll by and say, "I got you something."

I won't be out there until late July, so until then, the books will have to do. I highly recommend this one. I'll be sure to get my hands on Lovehampton next. In the mean time, wishful wardrobing is a very powerful coping mechanism. This morning I sprung from bed and threw on my tiniest Lilly shift and white Jacks. Hell, if I can't be there right now, I'm at least going to dress like I am to make up for it.

Lilly would have it no other way. And neither would I.

'The Crunch Chronicles' would sound SO much better.

Alas, my love affair with the big C has sadly ended and I now belong to NYSC.

I started taking spin class in college. There is something about it that is very invigorating and addicting. I'm not saying I actually went. I'm just saying I enjoyed it.

The only good thing about NYSC is that I have friends who go there as well. Every Wednesday, my dear pal and sorority sister JDS and I have running spin class date. She had never been spinning prior to this, and now I've got her hooked. Our instructor is jazzy and hosts a very motivating session. Although, I think that SHE thinks my routine of skipping into class, giving her a big wave and saying, "Hi! Will you play DMB today?!" is getting old. She played my favorite mix last night, which included No Such Thing and Crush. A lot of songs remind me of high school, but those two remind me of being sixteen and driving around in my cherry red Grand Cherokee... the days when TAG was teeny and didn't yet have a behind and had no reason to ever set foot in a goshforsaken gym!

Sidenote: All boys think that the best make out song is Crash by DMB. WRONG. This girl prefers Crush. Oh my goodness gracious, that song is sexy. What a glorious eight minutes.

JDS and I had a GREAT workout last night. Our conversation afterward went a little something like this:

TAG: WOW! That was so great!
JDS: This was the most I have ever sweated from that class!
TAG: Me too! But you know what? That means we had a great workout!
JDS: Yea!
TAG: So... Let's eat?

Bathing suit season sneaks up on me every year! I am determined to strut my stuff on the beach this summer. Like I said, I'm already eating a lot less cookies. My lil sis took some photos of us swimming in Sarasota last month, but I like this better.

Letters and a Post Script

"I wrote my second book... now if I could only finish my first."

After hearing myself utter those very words just several days ago, it dawned on me that my priorities are a little out of order as of late. I have exuded so much energy trying to make others happy that I almost forgot about myself. Yikes!

Luckily, not everyone has forgotten about me. And if you don't know it yet, one of my favorite things to do is write thank you notes! So below is the deserved credit bestowed upon those who are responsible for the smile on my face lately.


Dear Pinkberry,

Thank you for finally opening a mere 5 blocks away from my humble abode. I can already see my petty cash quickly depleting.

I'll be back,
TAG


Dear Job,

Thank you for strategically placing my desk next to the room where they cast models for a high fashion magazine. I have seen far too many foreign leggy creatures saunter by my office space. I now consume five less cookies a day.

Viva la Size 2,
TAG



Dear A,

Thank you for writing this.

Yes, I'm still laughing,
TAG


Dear Mom and Dad,

Never mind. You deserve an entire separate post. And I promise to write you one soon. But real quick, thanks for dinner last night! Rare was delish.

Love you both,
TAG


Dear Lunch Belle,

Thank you for saving my lunch today! You are my favorite Southern Sister in NYC and my go-to for all things food.

G.R.I.T.S. are the best (and check out her site!),
TAG


Dear Sex and the City movie,

Thank you. You were absolutely perfect. I wouldn't change a thing.

Still crying a little,
TAG


Dear Fabulous Bloggers,

You know who you are! We may not have all met in real life yet, but I love your words and hope you are enjoying my blog half as much as I'm enjoying all of yours. Keep up the good work!

And keep reading,
TAG


And... because you are not deserving of another letter yet...

P.S. J. Crew, you have let me down yet again. After all that complaining about your shipping costs, you have the audacity to mail me a boring grown-up headband instead of the whimsical crewcuts hair bow that I ordered. Don't you know by now that I only wear hair accessories designed for five year olds on my 23 year old head ? If it doesn't have a gigantic bow or a whale emblem, I want no part of it.

To add insult to injury once more, after skipping to work today in my new dress, I open my email only to see that it's now an additional 20% off.

BUT, a stranger in Starbucks complimented me on it. And that's just good karma. So, I thank you again for providing me with flawless frocks, but I ask you again to work on the execution a bit.

I want to love you... P.D.T.

I met my friend CJM at the infamous PDT yesterday evening. This is without a doubt one of my new favorite drink spots in the city. Everything is special: the concoctions, the stemware, the secret location. For those of you not familiar with PDT (which stands for Please Don't Tell), you enter through a phone booth in a hot dog hut. You call PDT from the phone booth (which is made for one person, and in which claustrophobic TAG almost had a nervous breakdown from three seconds in the enclosed space) to let them know of your arrival. I thought for sure this capsule reminiscent of a time machine would be transporting us to another land (or at least, level) but to my surprise this hidden bar is just on the other side of the door.

I had The Kin Kan, which is a mix that includes kumquat and lemon juice and St. Germain. I also had the French Maid, which is a twist on a mojito. These were two of the best cocktails I have every had the pleasure of sipping. I'd love to try all of them eventually, but I had to stop at two. Because we all know that around number three is when TAG is three sheets to the wind.



CJM and I had a fantastic time. She brings goodness back to the phrase 'Shiksa Goddess'.

NEW URL!

Please update your bookmarks! Jewish Girl in Wasp's Clothing has a new home!

www.jgiwc.com

(The old URL will still work - but this takes much less time to type.) :)

Preppy Summer Swap - UPDATE!

I know you all have been waiting on the edge of your computer chairs to see what I sent and received for the Preppy Summer Swap! I was so pleased with my package; I hope my partner was as well!


The suspense is killing me!


S is for Socks! WHALES! This preppy girl did her homework!



U is for Unique Products! Burt's Bees Baby Bee - someone read my 100 things post!



M is for Marvelous Find and Monogram! I immediately put my keys on this!


M is for Memory Keeper! Precious!



E is for Entertaining! And entertain I will with these fabulous coasters and shot glasses!



R is for Really Fun Stuff!


Here is what I sent:


S is for Stationary - the perfect preppy cards to keep in touch with faraway friends!
U is for Umbrella - in case you're caught in a summer shower!
M is for Mini Mist - this Coach perfume is a sweet summertime smell!
M is for Madras - this headband will keep you cool!
E is for Eyewear - these blue aviators are the quintessential summer shades!
R is for Red Lip Gloss - it tastes and looks sweet!


WHAT FUN! Can't wait to do this again in the Fall.

AEG came to visit!

At the Hudson for cocktails!



Norma's at Le Parker Meridien - our favorite brunch spot!

I came home to find this on my chalkboard...

Dear J. Crew...

I have some bones to pick with you my dear friend.

First of all, sending me a credit card? REALLY??? Yes, I know I called your office and pleaded mercilessly with one of your innocent employees to mail me one. Do you know why? Because when I originally applied for the card, in 2006, I begged not only the lovely store manager but also the delightful fellow on the other end of the phone to send the card to my address in Florida. What did you do? You sent it to my parents address in New York. My father promptly tossed the card in the trash. I was forced to schlep around the dogeared application with the account number written on it for nearly six months. This was terribly embarrassing. And ALL. YOUR. FAULT.

I got over it. And, for reasons unbeknownst to myself, I didn't think to order a replacement until now. Lord knows why, because I spend hundreds upon hundreds of dollars in your stores and I could have been racking up those $25 reward cards and free alterations in this duration of time. Not that I ever really need alterations - I'm blessed with long legs - but hey, I'm not one to turn down complimentary services.

So, it only took two years, but I finally have a real card with my name on it, placed snuggly in the slot next to the Neimans card. My sorority ID card was keeping it warm until that beautiful piece of green plastic arrived. I know. I'm just too cool.

And yes, I realize that I'm giving you the bona fide "REALLY MICHAEL VICK" for sending me a credit card, even though it was MY idea. But do you have any idea how much trouble you're about to get me into?!

On the mile trek to work (and back home again), I pass one of your stores. I don't stop in every day, because I'm on your website every day, and that would just be overkill. Not to mention pathetic. I dropped by several days ago and was delighted to see a small rack of seersucker dresses. All five of them were the same size. And not TAG-sized. Oh, look. My ride is here and it's a HUFF. I think I'll leave in it.

To add insult to injury, I found this dress online, ON SALE and in my size the following morning. You just think you're so sneaky, don't you?

Furthermore, I am incensed that you just charged me almost ELEVEN DOLLARS in shipping for a pique dress and a hair bow that I purchased online. A pique dress, that practically folds like paper, and a hair bow from crewcuts that will most likely not even fit around my big Jewish hair. Eleven dollars. For ground shipping in a little box.

But, aside from the fact that you have someone incompetent working in credit services who doesn't understand the meaning of, "MY PARENTS WILL KILL ME IF THEY SEE THIS CARD" (They didn't. They even paid the bill. God bless.)... and the fact that you don't match up your in store/online sales (And don't think I didn't notice that you hide sale items in your stock room and bring it out a season later and pretend that it 'just went on sale'. Because I SO. Totally. Did.)... and the fact that it would probably cost less for me to rent a car, drive to your factory in Virginia and pick up my goods rather then have them mailed to me...

I love you. I really, really do.

You're the best. Bar none. And even though it seems that every one of your collections is named after a foreign country, no one does American Girl like you. Or embroidery, or swim, or madras, or cardigans, or about most everything you do. NO ONE. You inhabit at least half of my wardrobe, and if it weren't for our mutual friend LP, you'd definitely be on me more. Promise. I'm only waiting on you to produce and sell undergarments. Preppy lingerie? I've about died and gone to heaven.

Thanks for the whales, the elephants, the spunk you add to my mailbox, the daily emails, the mini bottles of water you provide me with when I am parched and over-shopped, and most of all, for keeping this JGIWC well-dressed without completely breaking the bank.

And somehow, in your own way... You're Bringing Preppy Back. Even though, in my mind, it really never went away.

Anchors Aweigh,

TAG xxx

P.S. If any of you readers are getting married this summer and want to invite your favorite JGIWC... I'm just dying to purchase this dress.

The JGIWC's Preppy Picks

My Dear Readers:

About a month ago, something funny happened. Several colleagues were standing around, one of whom happens to be a close friend of mine. One of the other ladies was scrolling on her BlackBerry and suddenly exclaimed, "Look what the JGIWC just wrote!" My friend's ears perked up. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"What did you just say?" she inquired.

"JGIWC! I love her blog. I read it all the time."

Well, my friend just about lost her marbles. She explained who I was and hilarity sure did ensue! What a small world. There she was, standing with people she knows well. People who, at the time, had never met me, had no idea who I was in real life, and they were JGIWC fans. We had dinner that night and she couldn't wait to tell me about it.

The moral of the story is: you never know who is reading. I am so pleasantly surprised by the reader response. Every day I learn that my audience is a little bit bigger - and a little bit broader - than I ever imagined, and I couldn't be happier.

With that said, I'm gearing up to compile a list of my favorite preppy picks - from boys to belts, from clubs to cableknits, from patterns to polos and from shades to shops. Have a preppy brand that you're looking to get off the ground? Want exposure for your company? Email me at jgiwc.tag@gmail.com! This is the perfect place for press. I won't even charge you, though gifts are accepted and appreciated... :)

Looking forward to hearing from you :)

Anchors aweigh,

TAG xxx