Temple Talk

We sat in the second row at synagogue today. The only time I've ever prayed that close to the bima was at my sister's Bat Mitzvah. We usually sit further back on the High Holidays for several reasons: it's easier to sneak out for breaks; we can eat candy out of my dad's talis bag; and we can whisper to one another. Being in close proximity to the rabbi, however, did not stop us from doing the last on the list.

Allow me to preface this by saying that my mother believes that she will be inscribed in the Book of Life (kind of sort of our version of heaven) if she brings two Jewish people together and they fall in love. In Judaism, this is called a Shidduch. In my life, it's called GIVE UP.

MOM, while pointing to a guy in the first row (nearly 5 seats down): "He's cute!"
TAG, while shrugging: "He's okay."

Enter the fish from Spongebob Squarepants with a sign that says TWENTY MINUTES LATER and a voiceover with a French accent...

MOM, motioning towards the same guy: "He's really cute!"
TAG, face in her hands: "He's fine."
MOM: "Come on."
TAG: "Too late. Swore off guys yesterday."
MOM: "Why?"
TAG: "Tired of disappointment."
MOM, eyes widening: "There are nice guys out there!"
TAG, raising eyebrows: "Really?"
MOM: "Well... he's cute!"

Did I mention that we are loud whisperers? This guy probably heard the entire conversation. I'm not entirely sure that his leaving the service early wasn't coincidence.

Later on, my father was called up to open the ark (closet where the Torah is kept). The rabbi also called up a younger guy with my dad to close the ark. My mother, seeing that Bachelor Number One had exited, jumped at the chance.

MOM: "Look at him! He's cute! He may be too old for you but I'm not sure."
TAG, eyes rolled: "I think he's married."
MOM, looking over him again: "Maybe not! He's cute."
TAG: "I hate his hair."
MOM: "I thought you liked Jewfros!"
TAG: "It's not a good one. His hair is too big."

Several moments later, after the prayed had concluded and my dad had sat back down, he leaned over.

DAD: "He was young!"
MOM: "That's what I said!"
DAD: "He was wearing a nice suit."
DAD: "His hair was too big."
TAG: Puts face into hands and moans.

L'Shana Tovah.

"For $150, you could own this joint..." - Rabbi

To a sweet new year (Please God.)

After Rosh Hashannah dinner, my sister and I were checking out the apps on her iTouch. One of her's allows you to enter the month, day and year which you were born and it gives you a synopsis of... yourself.

Here's mine:

"You are a warrior. No obstacle can stop you from reaching your goal. You always keep yourself busy. This ability plus your responsibility will eventually bring you success. You adore your partner as the number one priority. You value your love one more than yourself. Your love is the greatest of all and you have potential to get married young."

Just when I was about to give up believing in signs. Dear Life, don't make me regret this.

Happy New Year to all of my Jewish Girls in Wasp's Clothing and Mensches in Madras.

Snacks5A

My dad took me to lunch at Saks today. It's our place. (Note to all New Yorkers: The Fall seasonal risotto is to die for. It's served in a baby pumpkin. I almost passed out from a precious attack.)

In the midst of our lunch, a woman in a fur coat traipsed around the tables in the main dining room, where we were seated, holding a sign that said, "Fur Salon on 2". It reminded me of lunching in Bal Harbour when I was little and watch girls in gowns saunter around Coco's advertising Neiman's newest pieces. I motioned to my dad and we shared a laugh.

"Who is she kidding?" he said aloud, while throwing up his arms. "Look at this place!"

And for the first time during our meal, I did. I scanned the scant space. The usual jovial lunch crowd was nowhere to be found. With the exception of us and a few ladies who lunch, the space was empty.

Times are tough, dear readers. It's been a rough week in the life of this JGIWC, but I can almost guarantee I'll be smiling again before our economy turns around. I think it's okay to take a week off every now and again, but it's time to wipe my eyes and get back on my feet. I count each and every one of my blessings every day and I am confident that many of you do as well. All we can do is go on living our lives and hope for the best.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Preppy Picks - Hooked on Books

My life currently revolves around books, reading and writing. This seems appropriate.


The can't-live-without coffee table book. The book release party was held at J. Crew... perfection. The foreword is written by one of my favorite Mensches in Madras, Steven Stolman. The author, Susanna Salk, is married to a Jew. Are you sensing a pattern here?




Drinking light in tennis white, misadventures on the preppy periphery, brunchtime buoys... THIS BOOKS IS A CLASSIC.




I have several copies of this. The one I keep on my coffee table was, believe it or not, a gift from a guy. He wrote a note in the front and I can't help but smile every time I open this (which is often). It's the unofficial Bible(/Torah) of entertainment for any good prep.




I got this as a Holiday gift from the Lilly store. They had 5 copies signed by Lilly to give out to their favorite customers. They asked me to join the team and be an official Lilly Girl two months later.




The original JGIWC. Everyone should own at least one copy of this.

I own two.

I never metaphor I didn't like.

Yesterday was a rough day. I woke up shaking. I sat at my desk to check the blog and almost threw up on my laptop. I felt empty and physically ill all at once.

I hid all day long. Whether it was beneath the sheets at home or behind big Gucci shades on the street, something inside of me wasn’t ready to face the world.

I decided to go to spin class to try and get some of my frustration out. I chose a bike near the fan, and it wasn’t until after class started that I realized I had stationed myself right where one mirror ends and another mirror begins. There was a line right down the middle of me; I was staring into a distorted reflection. That’s when I realized that yesterday, for the first time, I saw myself twice at once. And not just in two different mirrors.

Carrie Bradshaw once said, “Maybe the past is an anchor holding us back. Maybe you have to let go of who you were to become who you will be.” Yesterday, I saw two TAGs: who I have always been and who I want to be. The problem is, I’m not sure who or where I am right now. I can look in all the mirrors in the world, but I still feel blind.

I said in my 100 things post that I make at least one wish every day, and yesterday I began to cry mid-wish. If there’s anything I’ve been confident about in my life, it’s that I’ve always gotten what I want. It occurred to as I closed my eyes and hoped for good things that right now, I’m not.

I don’t want to wake up sick. I want to wake up smiling.

The more I know, the less I understand.

I felt it fitting to respond to one of the comments I received from Friday's post:

"You girls keep always going for the jerks. There's something that is just attractive about them over the nice guy who's a little shyer. You fail to see the bad qualities in these guys until it is too late. If a guy is cheating on you or doesnt at all appreciate what you do for him then you should realize this sooner and get out. My other piece of advice is to give the unlikely candidate a chance."

Well said. The last sentence is my favorite. I'm not going to deny that you make a good point. I'm the first to admit that Ari Gold makes me go weak at the knees. There is something wildly attractive about men who are powerful and aggressive and, yes, jerks. What is it about them? The air of mystery, the limited words? Girls dream of being that one person that these men can soften and harden for all at once (no pun intended). I know I'm not the only gal who admires Mrs. Ari.

But in all honesty, if I had my choice of who I wanted to date among the Entourage cast, I wouldn't pick Ari. I'd pick E. (He's not Jewish, but hell, if we're in an alternate universe in which I get to choose a guy on my favorite show, I'm throwing religion right out the window along with reality.)

He's nice, shy, and the unlikely candidate. The value of a thoughtful, sweet, kind and caring guy is not lost on me.

However, what hasn't been mentioned is that there is a flip side to this. The Seth Cohens and the Dan Humpherys of this world only want the Summer Roberts and the Serena van der Woodsens. The nice, shy, unlikely candidates want to date girls who are beautiful and sexy and fiery and cool. Where does that leave me?

What about my chance?

Fat cats can be sexy

Have I ever mentioned that I worked at Lilly Pulitzer in college? It changed my life. Aside from hooking me up with an amazing discount, new friends, and fun opportunities like modeling in fashion shows, it taught me that I can enjoy work if I'm doing something that I'm passionate about.

We didn't have much of a men's business back in those days - only cotton ties, swim trunks, the occasion pants, and polos (my college boyfriend had one in every color). Since then, Lilly has hired a new designer and significantly spanned the selection.

My friends at the Madison Avenue store are allowing me to 'moonlight' a few days a week as a sales associate. It really brings me back. Except instead of chatting at the Juice Bar and hosting sorority soirees, I spend my precious time there drooling over the Autumn men's collection.


I'm loving this jacket. It's very Steven Stolman-esque.


The Whitehall formal shirt comes in several prints, the Fat Cats being my favorite. I would immediately want to chat with any guy I saw wearing this. He's already got two things I admire: balls and good taste.


I adore this for the obvious reason - it's very un-Lilly. It looks like something my dad - who balances out his Prada jeans with Pringle sweaters - would wear.


Drum roll please - my absolute favorite. The Ruby Red Phipps pant with the Clink embroidery. If I saw someone wearing these... forget it. I'm already fanning myself off.

All items can be purchased at Lilly Pulitzer, 1020 Madison Avenue, where I'm happy to help you. I swear if I weren't single our business would be up.

Did Carrie Bradshaw ever write about this?

Lately, I've had a number of people compare me and my writing to Carrie Bradshaw's. I cannot even tell you what a compliment this is. Carrie is beautiful, adored, and talented: everything I strive to be.

Now that the show is off the air, I feel as though it is my unofficial duty as a CB groupie to bring up issues that SJP's alter ego is no longer able to. And I've been bogged down with this one for quite awhile. And I've argued with friends and I've danced around it on here countless times.

Let's start with the basics. I don't nag or smother. I'm not jealous. I like to laugh and play and buy presents and spoil my significant other. For so long, I've been under the impression that these are key ingredients to being a desirable girlfriend. Am I off my Knoll rocker?

Yet, I date someone to find out months later that he was cheating on me. Or I date someone else, and do countless kind things for him, never to be thanked even once. (It should be noted that in all cases, I've heard through the grapevine that they have gotten theirs. As a good friend of mine likes to say, the karma police are always on patrol.)

What am I doing wrong?

I can't help but wonder... Guys, if you are landing normal, sweet girls such as myself, why are you treating us like utter crap? Do you have any idea how tough it is to find us? Crazy girls wildly outnumber the sane ones. I know.

Male readers... (if you're out there...) it is now your time to shine. Any insight would be greatly appreciated by me and my female readers alike.

I haven't completely given up hope. Its not that I haven't met a few great guys in the city. They are few and far between, but they're out there.

My new years resolution is to stop settling. I've been doing far too much of that since I moved here. Good thing my new year is only a few weeks away.

P.S. I just said to my friend, CFL, that this post isn't super-CBesque. She said to think of it as Season One Carrie. As someone who aligns me with Sex and the City, I trust her judgement. Hey, I'm just getting started.

"Will you be putting this on your Bergdorf Goodman charge?" "No. I'm a Southern girl. I have a Neiman's card."

I'm back in business! Time Warner just set up my wireless internet. Now I can blog the way blogging was meant to be done: on every possible surface of my apartment with the exception of the desk.

While the kind man was installing this little blessing, I was on the couch paying my Neiman Marcus bill. The one that included both the new Rebecca Taylor jacket and the Phillip Lim dress. Ouch.

Have I mentioned that everyone else in my family is in the fashion industry? They don't call her Baby Fashionista for no reason. In addition to writing her fashion blog, she also takes classes at FIT. She's not even 16 yet! My mom is in jewelry and my dad is in eyewear. I'm the black sheep.



Or the yellow one. Whatever.

I mentioned in my first real entry that I grew up in a high-fashion household (life-size Prada robot included) but didn't appreciate it until much later in life. I yearned for lots of pink and big bows but was only able to live out these fantasies when I played dress-up.



I would rebel later in life by wearing bright colors and loud prints to family functions where I knew that photographs were bound to be taken. (See above.)

Don't get me wrong. My family loves and adores and supports me. I couldn't ask for anything more. I have lived my life around people who truly believe that fashion ranks among the highest of aesthetics. Like they profess in The Devil Wears Prada, it is greater than art because you live your life in it. Over the years, I've developed quite the affinity for this wearable art (as well an extensive wardrobe, ranging from Lilly to Lim).

As the Sex and the City movie is released on DVD next Tuesday, I'm reminded of my deep craving for these creations. You readers can expect lots of 'Labels or Love' posts in your future.

Let's be honest. I uttered the word 'yum' last night more times in the Gucci shoe department than I did at dinner.

Columbus, Ohio... thanks for the laughs.

I flew on September 11. (On a very small plane with 11 passengers. Yes, 11.) It wasn't something that I wanted to talk about, which is the reason I didn't mention that I was going out of town. I'm fine, obviously, and I was flying for the best reason possible: to see family. Sorority sisters, to be more specific.

My sorority hosts an annual retreat that is sponsored entirely through donors to our foundation. It costs between $1,000-2,000 to send one girl and about 250 girls attended. I felt rather privileged to be invited. The purpose of the retreat is for sisters of all ages to come together for one weekend to strengthen the sorority through discovery of new leadership techniques. It was held at a conference center in rural Ohio, but not too far from our Headquarters in Columbus.

The majority of the weekend (sans sleeping and eating) is conducted outside, rain or shine. If you've been around JGIWC for awhile, you've probably gotten the impression that I'm extremely girly and very un-athletic. You would be correct. This weekend was a huge challenge for me, but one that I willingly accepted.

I can't say too much about the weekend, because honestly, I don't know how. It was life-changing and eye-opening and no words could do any of it justice. I was reunited with friends I hadn't seen in years. I met collegiates who told me that I inspired them. Ever-lasting bonds were created and preserved. At the end of the weekend, I was able to tour our Headquarter building, which is something I've been wanting to do since I became a member 5 years ago.



I've been very fortunate to have had a number of difference experiences within my membership in these past 5 years. I always try to bring an open mind to whatever I am entering, but never have I exited an event so altered, so touched, so refreshed. After the tour, we were dropped at the Columbus airport for our homeward bounds. I spent a few precious minutes with girls I'm proud to call both sisters and friends, and I got on my plane. I carefully opened a small bag in which a number of sisters had placed small notes they'd written me over the weekend and began to read the pieces of paper. I began to choke up when I read, "You are one of the most poised, classy, elegant, and talented women I've ever met. I hope to be like you when I graduate". And then I came across, "You came here as the girl from New York City. You are more than you think" and my eyes became watery. I thought about how honored I am to be among this elite group of women and I put my head into my hands and cried.

I have never gotten on a plane and cried. No matter where I've been, I'm always ready to go home. But this time, something inside of me just wasn't quite there yet. And that's when I knew I had truly changed.

I got all of my tears out, wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. Not moments later, the pilot announced that the winds from Hurricane Ike were swinging North and it was no longer safe to fly such a small aircraft. He drove back to the gate and ordered us to deplane.

Be careful what you wish for 'cause you just might get it...?

After sitting in the airport for another 4 hours, it was determined that I would not be able to fly out until the following day. I took a cab back to our Headquarter building and spent the night there. It's funny; when I was there on the tour, I wondered to myself if I would ever have the chance to return and possibly stay there. But I was thinking in terms of years, not hours.

I don't exactly feel comfortable with security officials who don't seem to know what's going on. And I wasn't exactly loving that when I returned to the airport on Monday, my flight from SUNDAY was still on the screens as 'on time' and my new flight was nowhere to be found. Or the fact that the Delta desk attendant was chatting loudly on his cell phone with his mother, complaining about his job. This does not make for what I consider to be a legit airport. I also wasn't a big fan of flying in general when the flight attendant asked 4 people seated in the front to move to the back in order to distribute the weight more evenly so that we could take off on time. I shut my eyes tightly and prayed for my life. It's a good thing I already had my emotional moment on the plane the day before, because I wouldn't have had time to on this joke of a means for transportation.

So here I am, back in New York. With an experience behind me that I will always keep close to my heart and never, ever forget. Unfortunately, when I went to upload all of my photos, I learned that my camera has reached the end of its life and I was only able to salvage about 10 of the 60 photos. I took so many, and most of my favorites are gone. I'm heartbroken. Luckily, I have many great sisters who will send me all of the photos that they took. And if I've learned anything this past weekend, it's that life is short, and in the words of my favorite poet, Robert Frost, "it goes on".



Last but certainly not least, to my Hot Pink girls: Thank you so much for a wonderful weekend. You are all precious. To know that all of you appreciated my attendance and that some of you even looked up to me... was more than worth braving the rain. I know I've done something right.

"You are everything I never knew I always wanted."

I was watching "Fools Rush In" on TBS a few days ago. If nothing else, I love that network for constantly playing forgotten classics. This movie is a favorite of mine. A New York WASP and a feisty Latina... perfection!

It got me thinking a lot about my own life. How, exactly three years ago today, I was lying poolside at the Ritz thinking I had my whole life figured out. And how yesterday, I was standing on Madison Avenue with a big pink umbrella over my head and I didn't have a clue.

But then again, isn't that the beauty of it all? I always say I love surprises. I could tell you exactly where I would be today if I had gone along with the original plan. Now, I can't tell you where I'll be next week. Because I really don't know.

I love this movie because it's all about having faith and believing in signs, and that is who I am and who I've always been. I'm hopeful. I'm optimistic. I order a plate of french fries only to eat the 15 perfect-looking ones. I stick my tongue out at myself when I look in the mirror. I smile at strangers. I don't believe that I can change the world, but I do think I can make my corner of it a little bit brighter. I can organize and plan all I want, but the unexpected is inevitable.

If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It's thought-provoking. I'm not sure why it was so panned. It's no Titanic but it sends a good message.

I'm sorry, Paul. I don't believe in Yesterday. I believe in Today.

Lilly Love

Elizabeth Taylor wrote a book called My Love Affair with Jewelry. I could write a book called My Love Affair with Lilly.

(Sidenote: I am the girliest girl with the most low-key jewelry philosophy. My mother is a jewelry designer. It's quite the dichotomy. On an average day you can find me wearing my Cartier Love bracelet, my matching Cartier Love stud earrings, and my Cartier Pasha watch (are you sensing a pattern? TAG = BORING) with my mom standing next to me shaking her head because I'm not wearing a necklace.)

For my love affair isn't with diamonds or pearls, it's with the pink and green of the jungle queen. I live for Lilly.

I could wax poetic for days on end. How, in one way or another, it has at some point been intertwined with every aspect of my life: family, friends, career, writing, sorority, romance. How it's not just a brand, but a lifestyle. How it makes even my gloomiest days a bit brighter. The above article I read today in Quest magazine inspired me to share some of my favorite photos of life in Lilly with all of you.


AEG and I at a sorority luncheon.


My college bedroom.


AEG and I in matching dresses on a Spring Break trip.


A Pink & Green party held at the house of one of my favorite Lilly Ladies.


One for the record books: the only time I ever got the Baby Fashionista to wear Lilly.


My puppy in college, Lilly, playing with one of my Lilly bathing suits.


Posing for a Lilly fashion show.


At a holiday party with one of my favorite Lilly princesses, ALB.

The article is on page 86 of the September issue of Quest and it's all about the Madison Avenue store. If you're in the area and haven't dropped in yet, you must. I'm spending a lot of time there these days.

What a Lady, What a Night

When we lived in Miami, my dad took me to the Lipton tennis match every year. The name has since changed so many times due to sponsorship. Last I checked it was the Nasdaq. This is unfortunate, because when trying to one-up people with my love of tennis, "I went to the Lipton every year" no longer proves legit.

Tennis is the only sport my father actively pushed me to play. I remember him leaving our Coral Gables house early every Saturday morning to take lessons. He took a miniature television to my senior photo session because Wimbledon was on and he couldn't bare to miss a moment. He's good at the game and he thought my sister and I could be as well.

When I was little, I did after-school activities based on the cute-factor of the outfit that accompanied said activity. I will never forget walking into the tennis academy on the first day in my brand new top, skirt, bloomers, socks, and sneakers with racquet in hand among a bunch of kids in old sneakers and dowdy shorts. He went through the same thing with the baby fashionista ten years later. We played a game a few years ago. The majority of the time was spent rolling around the court, laughing at how awful we are. (Thankfully, my dad decided not to accompany us there out of fear of just this.)

I grew up watching Serena Williams play, so I'm thrilled to know that as of this morning she is ranked #1 in the world!



So Dad, I'm sorry that PAG and I couldn't be the Serena and Venus you always dreamed of. If we ever meet preppy boys who ask us to play doubles, we at least have the basics down and won't look like complete idiots on the court. Thank you for instilling in us the value of the most civilized (not to mention classiest) sport there is. And thanks for the Open tickets. :)


Walking in...


Posing with the huge tennis ball.


In front of the Polo store.


US Open signature cocktail.


In our new hats.

CONGRATULATIONS SERENA! WE LOVE YOU!

Dear Readers, Have I told you lately that I love you?

Well, I do. I really, really do.

A special thank you to the following bloggers for choosing as a Diamond Award recipient:

Princess Freckles (I love reading about her wedding plans. She is a darling and leaves me the kindest comments.)
Some Like it Prep (Her byline says it perfectly: "A prep struggling for survival in a JAP's world. Well put!)
Sunshine in NY City (A darling gal who I'm happy to call both a fellow book club member and sorority sister!)
Young and in Style (My little sister, the baby fashionista, and I don't agree on much. But one thing's for sure, we both love this blog!)

(If I forgot anyone, you have full rights to call me out on it via comment!)


Virtual LILIES to you all for being so sweet and supportive.

To everyone who reads this, including but not limited to: my precious sorority sisters who make me proud everyday, ex-boyfriends whom I no doubt drove crazy at one point or another but keep reading, family members who received shameless plugs from my father to read this, my parents' friends who received shameless plugs from both my mom and my dad to read this, the wonderful girls I'm lucky to call friends, and of course, all of the phenomenal bloggers I've connected with in cyber space. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

This is an interesting time in my life and I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, but I wouldn't be where I am now without your continued encouragement. JGIWC has already given me so much and I'm excited to see where it takes me in the future. I have to remind myself to step back every so often and realize that I wouldn't be anywhere if I didn't have readers like you.

Have a wonderful weekend!!!

XXX
TAG

The Preppy Picks - What I bought in the Hamptons

Stubbs and Wooton with the polo player falling off the horse (mine are red with navy). Classic.


J. Crew abstract rose print dress. Unbelievably flattering.


Juliet patent leather mid-heels (mine are black). The wooden heel makes it interesting.


Lilly Pulitzer Kathy boatneck striped. The cotton is incredibly soft.


Lilly Pulitzer Cleary colorblocked dress. Currently the number one selling item in the company.


Lilly Pulitzer Palm Beach Straight Jeans. (I purchased them in PB Pearl, which is an off-white.) These will look so fresh with boots in the Fall.

I think that's all the shopping this starving artist will be doing for awhile. Oh, who am I kidding.

I'm baaack...

More to come. I'm taking a vacation from my vacation.