The Mall of America is a Cross Between a Dystopian Satire and the Best Stoned You’ve Ever Been

Happy Almost Thanksgiving, turkeys! And look at us actually posting two weeks in a row! See, there are still things to be thankful for these days. You’re welcome. In the spirit of my recent move to Minnesota and our impending Black Friday (but actually Thursday) consumerist gluttony, I thought now would be an apropos time to tell you all about my new favorite place on earth…

THE MALL OF AMERICA.

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It’s Not Goodbye, It’s C U Next Tuesday But From Another City

There are few things more precious in this world than lady friends. I can’t count the number of times that Taylor and I have sat on my couch, or at a bar, or atop a wooden box with a hole cut in it at a Korean spa getting our vaginas steamed, and talked about how fucking lucky we feel to be women who are aware of the complexity of their feelings and capable of verbalizing and expressing them to one another in a meaningful way. And yeah, I’ve been drinking some Prosecco tonight, and I’m feeling sentimental, and this is going to be mush because I’m moving back up north this weekend and holy shit I’m already missing my boo Taylorrrrrr. <insert James Van Der Beek crying gif here>

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Packing for Paris

I always overpack. ALWAYS. Three day trip to Nashville? Six dresses. Week-long trip to Chicago? Eight pairs of jeans. Weekend at the beach? Three pairs of boots. It’s a problem. And for someone who loves planning so much, you would think that I would do a better job of it when it comes to packing. I think what it is for me, though, is that my propensity for planning is far outweighed by my crippling fear of not having enough options, so I throw everything I can possibly fit into the suitcase… juuuuuust in case. This is stupid for many reasons, the main one being that once I get back home I have to then unpack all this shit that I didn’t even/was never going to wear, and unpacking is the piiiiiiiitts.

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Dressing For Dystopia

We’re all feeling it lately. The heavy, suffocating dread perched squarely on our chests every night as we’re lying in bed. The shame and burden of our collective failures as a society like a cat with its bony-ass elbow digging into our sternum, preventing us from sleep. We blew it, you guys. We blew it bad. And it’s hard to think about anything else. So, in that spirit, Taylor and I decided not to reward you with sugar-coated Valentine’s treats today, but rather some bleak forecasting of our impending doom as a civilization. Yay! Welcome to the future! But not a cool tech future with hoverboards and flying cars and shit. No, this is more like a cross between 1984 and Idiocracy. Orwellian in its authoritarianism and propensity for doublespeak, and Idiocracian because BETSY DEVOS.

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Street Style – AJ

As Taylor and I have mentioned before, we don’t want this blog to be about just us, we want it to be about you, too (but definitely not U2). We know you ladies have something to say about style, and we want to hear what it is. And frankly, we’re getting a little tired of our own faces as of late, and I am pretty sure that my neighbors think I’m insane because they have caught me on multiple occasions standing in my driveway with a selfie stick trying to figure out how to get my whole outfit into a picture. Living that blog lifestyle is embarrassing af sometimes y’all.
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Takin’ It To the Streets

Like many of you, we were proud to participate in the anti-Trump women’s marches this weekend. Lindsey was in Chicago, and I was lucky enough to be in DC. It’s hard to put into words what the experience of coming together with so many of our fellow citizens, mostly women, meant to us, but we want to try.  Read More

Does This Come In Black?

Well fam, it’s Tuesday, and you know what that means – you’re one day closer to Sunday brunch… aaaand a new TST post! We decided to give the people what they want and show y’all some clothes this week since we do fancy ourselves a style blog and we were naked last week, on a break the week before that, and then pretty much just complaining about stuff in our last post of December. Read More

Take Care

Although we as a nation are divided, after perusing social media on New Year’s Eve, it seems there’s one thing we can all agree on: 2016 was a dumpster fire and is cordially invited to go fuck itself. As relieved as Lindsey and I are to see the backside of the shitshow of these last twelve months, though, there are a lot of reasons 2017 is likely to be just as rough a ride, which is why in our first post of the year, we want to talk to you about the importance of self-care.  Read More

Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

As I sit here under my Christmas tree on my third glass of $8 Kroger wine, wrapping the last of my Christmas gifts and cringing and dying a little on the inside every time I stick a piece of tape full of dog hair onto a package, it’s hard to muster up even the most microscopic amount of Christmas spirit. Read More

Stretch the Halls

It’s the holiday season, which means you’ve probably got at least one party on your calendar, whether it’s a family get-together, a work shindig, or an excuse for you and your friends to dress up and drink eggnog. If you’re a cocktail dress gal, there are plenty of places to turn for guidance, as there should be—every blog, magazine, and retailer will point you in the direction of a million bangin’ frocks. And listen: a sparkly little number and a pair of high heels are one of life’s great pleasures, so if you go that route, we salute you. However, holiday parties also mean food, glorious food! Maybe you’re one of those super-disciplined babes who prefers to keep it as healthy as possible, sticking to crudites and a cookie or two, but us? We came to eat, honey. The cheese ball, the chip & dip, the sugar cookies, the candy: we’re not holding back. We’re stuffing our faces for the baby Jesus, and that means we need EATIN’ PANTS. Read More