Bang, bang, you're dead.

Okay. I caved.

After coveting the look on everyone from chic Parisians to the hipsters who work at Urban Outfitters, I decided to join the ranks of the elite girls with bangs. Having not rocked a fringe since I was seven years old and styled myself after Velma Dinkley (yep...of Scooby Doo fame), I was a little nervous about whether or not my cheekbones and jawline would be up to the challenge.









Fortunately, I'm pretty sure I'm thrilled with the results. I'm also pretty sure I just entered a monogamous relationship with my hair straightener. ~*~BeStiEs~*~









Inspiration courtesy of Kate, Kim, Brigitte, and good old Jenny from the block.

If you have the urge to update your visage and the thick, straight locks and/or time to devote to maintenance, bangs make an instant statement without sacrificing the length you spent so long cultivating (unwittingly getting a bad haircut is a pain; consciously chopping it all off and instantly regretting it is a bitch). Additionally, bangs serve as an easy camouflage for overlarge foreheads, hairline acne, and more. Just don't make the mistake of going too short - ask for something that falls between your eyes and eyebrows initially, then have your hairstylist snip and angle you into the coif if your dreams.

Basically: Take risks. Spice up your look (and then spice up your life). It's what your youth is for. After all...it's only hair.

The only thing better than blue velvet? Red velvet [cake, in my belly].

My Balmain-meets-Chanel look for New Year's Eve '09:











Let's talk resolutions. In theory, they're positive, allowing us to imagine happier, healthier, more successful versions of ourselves. But all too often, resolutions stem from somewhere a little less bright and shiny: nagging reminders of our dissatisfaction with the way we already are, of our failures thus far. Even today, as I sat down to write my annual manifesto of self-improvement, I found myself zoning in on my shortcomings rather than the many ways I've grown (or literally shrank) in the past year.

So if I can say one thing to everyone who passes through this blog (thank you so much, by the way, for reading), it's this: forgive yourself. January 1 might be just another date on the calendar, but using it as an excuse to start fresh isn't silly or quixotic. Set goals. Set deadlines. And if you can only stand to make one resolution, make it this: start believing that you're the shit. If you ever come to a point where there's nothing about you that needs improvement, you're in trouble. My girl Miley said it best this year. It's all about the climb.

Some major changes to La Vie en Ginger are in the works; most notably, more personal style posts (read: self-indulgent photographs) and more frequent updates. I love hearing from people who actually read this thing, so keep the feedback coming. Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want to hear more of. Tell me why ain't nothing but a heartache/ain't nothing but a mistake/I never wanna hear you say "I want it that way," (seriously, Nick Carter, what happened to you?).

Happy new year! I hope your night sparkled like fireworks.

Dress: Topshop (Bought it!).
Tights: L'eggs.
Shoes: Dollhouse.
Necklaces and ring: Inherited.

The secret to a rich life is to have more beginnings than endings.

I cannot even put into words how glorious it is to be back on the North Shore.

I love this campus; I love this town - not to mention that life as it stands is a comfortable limbo between summertime laziness and actual responsibility. Classes don't start for another week and a half, so I'm mostly just wreaking my usual havoc in Evanston (read: loitering in Café Ambrosia slurping iced coffees and pretending to be productive) and slutting myself around apartments to check out everyone's decorating jobs. The entire world has moved off-campus. It's unsettingly awesome. And while I personally am beyond thrilled to spend a year in Gamma Phi, watching the paint jobs and the furniture shopping is getting me so pumped for apartment life when my turn finally does roll around.

I'm currently residing on the fold-out couch of Jamie Lynn...who just might have the most outrageous views in Evanston:





I spy with my little eye: the Bahá’í temple, University Hall, the sandy shores of Lake Michigan. Photos courtesy of my new digital camera, which makes everyone (or me, anyway) look tan and thin. Into it.