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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Ask RBF: Flattering My Actual Body

Hey, babes! I was all set to write this post last week and then this bitch named Irma came and knocked out my power and internet for days (and Lindsey and I are so grateful to be safe and our hearts go out to those who lost so much more in this storm). I was so ready, though, because this is an installment of Ask RBF, and WE LOVE GETTING QUESTIONS FROM Y’ALL.

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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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Shopper Discretion Advised

Shopping smart is a skill. And it’s one that Taylor and I have only just recently begun to perfect. In college we would go to the mall and buy mountains of Forever 21 clothes that ended up never getting worn and ultimately being re-sold to Plato’s Closet and Rag-O-Rama so we’d have money to buy cigs and Chipotle.

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Game of Thrones Runway Review: Summer ’17

Game of Thrones’ final season premiered Sunday night (duh, everyone knows this), and before we talk about the fashion, which should be the most important thing, can we address what’s really on everyone’s mind? Namely, WHAT THE FUCK IS ED SHEERAN DOING HERE.

ed-sheeran-game-of-thrones
Get this tf out of my face

This is an insult and an outrage, and I love Maisie Williams, but I hope she one day knows enough about life to be embarrassed about the fact that she stanned so hard for this dummy that the showrunners let him ruin five minutes of a great show for her sake. His face is terrible, his music is terrible, and THIS CAMEO WAS TERRIBLE. But Twitter already did a great job of dragging this whole thing, so I’ll move on, because: you guys, the lewks this season are FIRE. (Warning: spoilers ahead. Obviously.)

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Two Girls, One Piece, Three Ways

Hey, lovelies! We’re glad you’re here. Sorry we didn’t post last week. We’re shit, we blew it.

But moving on: One of my irrational pet peeves is when a TV show about “normal people” puts characters in entirely new outfits in every scene and you never see a person wear anything more than once. Sure, TV is designed to sell us stuff, and real life can be kind of depressing so we don’t want total verisimilitude–but come on, even if I was rich, I like to think I’d get some repeat usage out of my hot designer shit. Besides, one of the best parts about getting dressed is being creative, and what’s more creative than finding multiple uses for a single thing?

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Like a Lady

In one of my earliest memories, I’m four or five years old. My mom and I are in the living room of the house I grew up in, and I’m wearing the same dress I insisted upon wearing every day: long and red, with little white flowers all over it, and a ruffle at the hem that just brushed the tops of my feet. I had other dresses, but this was my favorite, and in this memory my mother is trying to convince me to relinquish it for washing, and I am staunchly refusing. “I’ll wash it right now,” my mother is saying. “You can have it back in an hour.”

“But then I won’t have anything to wear while you’re washing it.”

“You have a drawer full of clean pants upstairs. You can wear pants for one hour. It won’t kill you. Besides, wouldn’t that more comfortable to play in?” At this point she’s getting exasperated, because I’m being an unreasonable dick, as children are wont to be. Read More

Bathing Suits Are Shirts Too, You Guys

Hello lovelies, and welcome back! As you may or may not already know, Taylor and I are conveniently located in Atlanta, Georgia, the sweaty armpit of America known as the Dirty South. Now, I’m not entirely sure the exact origins of that name, but some might say that it has to do with red clay, dirt roads, and the very distinct sound and soul of southern hip hop. If I had to hazard a guess, though, I might also add to that the fact that it’s hot as BALLS down here and the only way to ever feel clean is to 1) never leave your house between the months of May and September, or 2) take at least 4 showers a day. So, on that note, I’d like to present to you, dear readers, a little tip straight from the land of 100% humidity and perpetual swamp crotch: bathing suits are basically sweat-absorbent body suits that you don’t have to wear a bra with.

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An Ode to Target

Hello, lovelies! We’re back, and we sincerely apologize for the 2 week hiatus and for lying to you and saying that we would only be taking 1 week off, but Taylor was in Hawaii and I was on a 5 day long Catfish bender, so ya know, life got in the way. By the way, have y’all seen the one where the lady contacts the girl through Facebook saying that she’s been talking to the girl’s dad who has been dead for years? It. Is. Craaaaay.

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Leggings ARE Pants!

Lindsey and I spend the majority of our time in what, a decade ago, would’ve been called “stretch pants.” We both go to the gym a lot; she works from home; and I’m a nanny. So comfortable clothes are pretty key to our day to day life. Read More