In Defense of Young Women Who Think They’re CB

My response to the open letter:

First, we’re not girls. We’re not children. We are young women. We feed ourselves, pay our bills, drive, work, have sex, don’t have sex, study, party, read, and form our own thoughts and opinions, maybe not in that order.

Secondly, Carrie Bradshaw was a grown woman in her late thirties and forties. She wasn’t a college grad on her own for the first time writing a sex column for the New York Star. Nix the facetious attitude. I’m sure your Mac book pro is sick of it.

You’re writing like a child not getting to meet Cinderella at Disney World. Surprise! Every kid doesn’t get the princess dinner. Don’t be so naïve. Don’t tell everyone not to go to Disney.

I once had a friend who turned down a summer internship because she was going to have to alphabetize files on occasion. I thought she was an idiot. You have to pay your dues. Rarely do luxurious jobs just fall in your lap, and neither do amazing lofts or perfect relationships.

Take risks
Put yourself out there

Those are the steps to becoming successful. Pipe dreams are labels people subscribe to when they aren’t willing to work for their goals.

Third, Carrie didn’t write to become a successful writer. She wrote because she loved it. Don’t we all want to get paid for doing what we love?

Fourth, as open as Carrie was about her sex life I think she would appreciate other younger women opening up about theirs. It clears up the misconceptions, the myths, the lies. The things we tell ourselves are the norm, knowing they’re not. The things we criticize ourselves for not being able to do. The things we live with because we don’t realize they aren’t okay. If more young women are open about their sex lives, perhaps we won’t be so quick to shun young women that have sex. If more young women are open about their sex lives, perhaps we won’t be so quick to shun young women that don’t have sex.

What’s more, at the end of the day if you can only be successful because there’s no competition… are you really successful?

Use spell check by all means. Write about things besides men and sex and relationships. Have role models besides Carrie Bradshaw. If you move to New York, expect to live in a shoe box apartment. Space is limited in the city and prices are outrageous. Don’t expect to land your own column the minute you hail a taxi. Expect to take the subway and fact check instead. Make friends like Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha because you deserve them and they are out there. Then when you’re forty; you’ve worked your ass off, have a career and loft apartment: feel free not to wear a bra.

You don’t have to be Carrie Bradshaw. You can be someone else. “Someone else successful and the city.” You can be yourself and take inspiration from someone else, whatever you want to do. Still, to get where you want to go, you have to rack up the time, the experience and the refrences. If you want to be a writer and WordPress is your only outlet, don’t let another WordPress user tell you not to write. Practice makes perfect, or close enough.



Tell Me More

Hello Lovelies,

You may have noticed my glorious little counter in the bottom corner that excitedly proclaims only two more days til I’m back on campus! “What does that mean for East Cost Elegance?” You ask. Never fear my dears! Although my J. Adler Agenda is packed to the brim with meetings, appointments and to-do lists,  I am beyond excited to transfer some of my École enthusiasm to ECE.

Now, I want your opinion. What types of posts would you like to see this Fall on East Coast Elegance? Here’s your chance! I’m listening! Help me keep things fabulous and relevant.

Thanks & welcome new followers!


Happy National S’mores Day

Hey There Sweets,

So I learned from Lauren Conrad‘s twitter feed that today is National S’mores Day. Who knew? In honor of the day I’m going to share my three most memorable s’mores moments.


1. I was twelve and three days into a spring break camping trip with the parentals. The glory of catching my first catfish was fading fast and being the cool kid that I was, I didn’t have a cell phone yet. Needless to say the boredom was creeping in like your mother in your bedroom when you bring a boy home for the first time. Completely unwanted, but expected. As the sun nestled itself against the Blue Ridge blanket of mountains, the girl in the next cabin came over and invited me to join her family for s’mores. Her name was Anna and we became quick friends. On the sixth day of our camping trip I woke up to a sticky note on our door with Anna’s address. I had my first pen pal.

2. Another camping trip, another spring break. I was eighteen and in love. I’d helped him pitch the tent, and watched him up blow up an air mattress. If he’d proposed right then, stooped with the air pump between his knees, his biceps flexing on the down counts, I would’ve said yes. We took a break to cool down in the lake, our skin smelling like off brand bug repellent, sweat and musky lake water. When we made fire, we high-fived before he scooped me up into one of those hugs where they lift you off the ground and you feel like you belong in an american eagle ad. Probably extremely resemblent of the first time man-made fire, I’m willing to bet. I ate the marshmallows faster than he could roast them, but when we finally did make a few good s’mores, we wondered why in the world people make these in the woods. It’s messy as hell, just like love I suppose.

3. It was my second semester of college. Flanked by my two best friends, I knelt in soot at the opening of an outdoor fireplace on campus. We’d bought fire wood at the Kroger up the road, but hadn’t splurgged for the easy start kind that’s marinated in whatever to make it faster to get the fire up and going. Big mistake. Despite my experience starting a fire with the boy, I didn’t know a damn thing. Neither did my two best girls, obviously. It took us forty-five minutes and an entire roll of paper towels (I’d seen my dad use them when grilling) to finally get a flame worthy enough of roasting a couple marshmallows. We let out a few celebratory howls, licked the inevitable mess off our fingers and cheersed to our womanhood. Stuffing the little chocolatey sandwiches into our mouthes we discussed how we could make it in the wilderness… with a candle-lighter and a few dozen paper towels… It was a bonding moment for sure.

One last thing, a little tip if you will: Next time you make s’mores, try a few with Reeses instead of chocolate bars, so freaking delicious, you can thank Anna for that one.


Like Bees to Honey

I’m a sucker for written imagery folks.


A Subtle Kind of Love.
a story by Jake Christie

He loved her in a  distant kind of way, the same way the sun heats the Earth.  If she  were to disappear completely, he knew through pure logic that it  would have no great, disastrous effect on him.  He would not cease to  be; he would not stop breathing; his heart would not stop beating;  the world would not stop spinning.  The sun would keep shining,  radiating heat, if the Earth were not there.  On a certain, purely  physical level, her absence would have absolutely zero effect on his  person.

And yet…

He loved her in an  abstract kind of way, the way a bee loves honey.  He wasn’t sure why  he wanted to love her, but he wanted to love her just the same.   Maybe somebody told him once that he should be in love with somebody,  so he felt a need to pick somebody and it just so happened to be her.   Maybe.  Being in love was nice, sure, but he didn’t need to be.

And yet…

He loved her in a  removed kind of way, the way a butterfly’s wings can start a tsunami  halfway around the world.  He knew that it had an effect on her, but  he wasn’t sure how great.  On a certain level he was aware that if he  were to stop, if he were to disappear, it would have a drastic  effect.  For him it would be one less flap of his wings, in a manner  of speaking, if such a thing were possible without him falling from  the sky.

And yet…

He loved her in a  subtle kind of way.  It wasn’t the kind of love you see in movies,  with swelling music and giant gestures and running through the  streets to catch a departing train.  It wasn’t the kind of love that  Byron or Shakespeare wrote about, with flowery language and hyperbole  and iambic pentameter.  It was still and deep, like water that you  might mistake for shallow if you just watched the surface.  It was  entirely his, not dependent on her own feelings for him, and it would  still be there whether she, or him, or everyone else on the world  disappeared.  It was a subtle kind of love, but it was true.

And she loved him  just the same.

Simply Lovely

Hello ladies and gents,

I woke up this morning a very happy blogger. One of my favorite up and coming blogs momentsnotmemories nominated East Coast Elegance for the Lovely Blogger Award. This is my blog’s first award, and I am so thrilled to accept! The past two months have been a little zany so this was unexpectedly lovely. It’s so nice to have ECE acknowledged and appreciated. Thank you thank you thank you Mn’M!

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you with a link to the site. momentsnotmemories Thank you!!

2. Write seven things about yourself that other bloggers don’t know. [check down below!]

3. Nominate fifteen other deserving blogs. [check down below]

7 Things You Didn’t Know About Me

1. I’m cheap. No, I don’t stiff the waiter or use watered down laundry detergent but when it comes to clothing… I will turn my nose up at a thirty dollar sweater. Bargains are sexy. I’ve literally gone from tearful migraine to a mile wide grin just by stepping into a F21.

2. I’m addicted to white chocolate mochas. Hot, cold, I couldn’t care less. They’re perfect. Don’t try to argue this point with me. You will lose.

3. It won’t be a straw that breaks this camels back. Books. I’m addicted. I avoid venturing into the stacks alone at libraries, and try to only take a limited amount of cash into book stores.

4. My favorite charity is She’s the first. We have to educate out girls so they can become amazing women!

5. True Story: I’ve always wanted to learn Karate.

6. I’m a Capricorn. Which means I’m ambitious, stubborn, loyal and creative.

7. I can drive a manual and I’m damn proud of it.

15 Lovely Blogs

1. All Things Charming– All the clever DIY’s you’ve been looking for and more. The name says it all.
2. Pretty Little Pink Things – Just like the headline reads, A bit of this and that. A lighthearted read, I always enjoy.
3. Polish and Sugar–  A hub for baking, interior design and beauty; the perfect gal pal on a rainy afternoon.
4. What Katie Made– 2 Words: Freaking Genius. Her DIY posts are always on point.
5. becomingelizabeth– Amazing style posts that never bore, or disappoint.
6. powderandpaint14– Look forward to insightful posts about art, feminism and fashion.
7. Beauty and the Beard– Adventures, DIY, and bargains as told by the girl next door.
8. Made in Pretoria – The DIY posts ours dream of being.
9. Hey Girl – Where I got to get inspired.
10. The Sapphire Bee– Blogging with a side of shopping, just the way I like it.
11. One Sheepish Girl– The epitome of lovely. As I scroll, I’m constantly ooo’ing and aweingg
12. Oh Hello Friend– Details, details details. Everything thing, head to toe is admirable.
13. see pretty– The perfect casual coffee companion.
14. Thayer Allyson Gowdy– Beautiful pictures of the days gone by.
15. And one to aspire to…

Thank you loves.


If I should have a daughter…

Hello All,

I said all because so matter who you are (reader, gent, lady, lovely, whatever…) you’ll have to try hard not to find this poem absolutely beautiful. Watch.



Decadent Dorm Desk Decor

Hello dearests,

Like many of you, I can’t wait to get back to school. In the mean time I’ve been looking for unique dorm room inspiration. Right now I’m focused on desk areas.  Here are a few of my favorites from across the web.

What’s inspiring you in dorm decor these days? Leave it below!