Boys and girls, I'm here today to talk to you about crack. Or rather, crack cookies, as my brother and I affectionately refer to those t...

The way I see it, we have two options: a) We can pretend like all I want for Christmas is world peace, or b) We can collectively swoon over ...

The holidays have a way of amplifying whatever you're feeling by about a hundredfold. That's all well and good if you're happy a...

The inverse relationship between form and function is well-documented when it comes to clothes. Are my flannel pajamas and shearling moccasi...

I have an exceptionally low tolerance for things that are fake. Fake people, fake Christmas trees, fake designer handbags, fake orgasms (don...

OMFG WHAT I HAVE A BLOG?! Yeah, sorry about that. High time I stopped living my life and got back to writing about it instead. Rude of me. W...

My diet is about as Mediterranean as they come. On any given day, a survey of my fridge is likely to include Greek yogurt, feta cheese, oliv...

Okay. I get it. You're sick of my nude bandage booties. I have heard your cries, and I have responded by purchasing: A practical pair of...

This one time, at band camp/in the Condé Nast digital studios, I didn't have to set my camera timer and sprint into a cheesecakey pose. ...

I feel like Taio Cruz and I would really hit it off, because I, too, throw my hands up in the air sometimes. Presumably unlike Taio, I also ...