Every self-respecting college girl has one (or three): a strapless bra.  Without this little piece of lingerie magic, we would be without proper support in our skankiest dresses and tube tops (and whatever else needs to show a lot of shoulder and not a lot of bra strap).  Some of us need need them to keep us supported during times when we can’t support ourselves and others need them to shape and pad us when our non-existent boobs aren’t enough.

Yet, as much as I love the strapless bra, I hate it.  The reality is that bras were made with straps for a reason and without them, it’s an epic fail waiting to happen.

While I own my fair share of so-called strapless wonders, I’m torn as to whether I really need them or not…

Love it:
There’s nothing quite as tacky as bra straps slipping out of tops.  I mean, it’s such an easy fix, so it’s annoying when people are walking around all strappy and whatnot.  I don’t care how nice your bra is, I don’t want to see the straps. And, no, those clear ones don’t cut it either.

In this regard, strapless bras work wonders.  They fit under your slinky tops without revealing to the general public that you buy your bras at Kmart (I only have, like, two from there…) AND they provide a step up from going without a bra, in that they stop the floppin’ and maybe provide some (in my case, much needed) push up action.

Also, when I first put a strapless bra on, I get to dance around and pretend I’m a burlesque performer.  Strapless bras have an aura of secret sexiness about them that makes me feel like I’m seduction on a stick.  They’re definitely a confidence booster (and my confidence definitely needs a boost once I look in the mirror and realize that my new, delicate dress really does make my arms look ginormous). Read More »

My mom does a lot of really annoying things.

She calls me really early in the morning, or really late at night. To talk about reality TV shows.
Whenever I’m on the phone with her, she hangs up abruptly to get another call…without saying goodbye.
She pees with the door open in the powder room on the main floor of our house.
She backed into my car when it was parked on her driveway…

But no matter how much I want to shake her and scream, “MOM IT’S 8AM ON A SUNDAY AND I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU THINK OF RAMONA!” the woman has given me so much and I can’t forget that.

My mom is one of the most generous people I know, always giving her time and services to other people. She will do anything for me, including moving me and all my stuff from dorm to sorority house to house to apartment to apartment. She’s always in the mood for a trip to the mall and sometimes even throws her credit card down at the register. She’s an awesome cook, she’s pretty good at Scrabble and she did apologize when she backed into my car…

But the thing I’m most grateful for when it comes to my mom is the confidence and self esteem she has instilled in me.

I was a fat kid growing up. And not just baby fat. Fat fat. I was tall and big and had a perm – needless to say, I stuck out. But I never knew it. In fact, I didn’t realize quite how big I was until I looked at pictures from my childhood long after those years were over. At the time, thanks to my mom, I thought I was just like everyone else. You see, she was a plus sized woman, but I never realized there was anything wrong with that. I don’t remember my mom ever talking about her weight. I don’t remember her ever hiding herself or her body out of shame. Read More »

[Life isn’t black and white. As much as we wish we simply loved or hated things, there is often that whole annoying gray area in the middle. Like, we love going home to the parentals', but we hate having to live with their rules. Or we love power hours, but hate cleaning up the empty cans in the morning. Damn you, gray area; you make decision-making that much more complicated!]

I live in my Rainbows. Period. No matter if it’s spring or fall, cloudy or sunny, hot or cold. No matter if I’m heading to a class, rocking out at a concert, or lounging by the pool. My Rainbows are constantly my go-to shoe, but sometimes – I admit – they’re just not a very good shoe choice.

So, my dear Rainbows, I’m totally torn…

Love Em:

There’s many reasons why 99% of the time you see me (and the majority of the other girls on campus), I’m in my Rainbows. They’re arguably the most comfortable shoes ever made, thanks to the leather construction and cushioned sole that molds to your feet (you can even see the layers of leathery softness!). And if you want more comfort, you can even buy ‘em double-layered! Can you say “heaven”?

Rainbows come in a ton of varieties. You can choose your color (white, brown, or black), material (leather or cloth), and straps (thin or thick). Not that it matters; whatever you choose, Rainbows always match your outfit and make you look 100% Cali-cute! Read More »

We’re back with another scrumptious G.W.W.E. (Guys We Wanna Eff), and this week all of our affections belong to none other than Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter.

Derek Jeter is absolutely the total package: drop-dead-gorgeous, an all-star athlete, charming, and above all, a true gentleman.  Ladies have been on deck to eff the champion charmer since his rookie days in 1996. Leading the Yankees to four World Series titles in his first five years as a major leaguer, Jeter’s also been named Rookie of the Year, World Series MVP,  and All-Star MVP, among other awards. (Hey Jete, is that a Golden Glove in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?)

Jeter’s always been an example of terrific sportsmanship. He always puts the Yankees first, and gives his unwavering support for teammates even as they face hardship such as injury or steroid-use allegations.  “We just want to win,” he says of the Bronx Bombers. “That’s the bottom line.” And unlike many athletes who are all talk and no action, Jeter backs up his claims by making jaw-dropping catches and swift double-plays. Have you seen this diving catch he made into the stands? His body sure must be durable–I wonder what else it’s capable of doing….

But aside from his achievements on the baseball diamond, Jeter’s a star off the field, too. He’s got a smooth sense of humor (evident from his appearances on Saturday Night Live), is a Midwestern boy at heart, and he knows how to party! Frequently spotted at New York nightclubs (work hard, play hard, right?), I not-so-secretly hope to run into him one of these days.

Read More »

If you’re like me, no matter how much time you spend in the gym, there are some body parts you’d rather not flaunt. But with spring break coming up, there’s absolutely no reason for you to hit the beach or pools without feeling fabulous. Never to fear ladies; I’ve dug around for some hot ideas for you to look and feel your best, no matter what body type you have.

If you’re worried about: Read More »

When we decided to devote a week on CollegeCandy to eating disorder awareness, we wanted to get some facts and statistics from the experts. We reached out to the people who study and know these diseases best, and in doing so, met Stacey, a survivor who is using her rough past to help others. We immediately fell in love with both this woman and her message and wanted to introduce her to you.

Here is Stacey’s story:

Don’t get me wrong, I love guys (I mean I LOVE guys), but what if the story had been different?  What if Adam had emerged from Eve’s rib instead of vice-versa?  Would we be living in an entirely different world?  Would a woman’s success be gauged monetarily and a man’s physically?  Would aggressiveness be seen as a feminine quality and submissiveness as masculine?  Would women eat whatever they wanted while men counted every one tenth of a calorie?  I have no idea, but I asked this five years ago when starting EvesRib.com, a company that promotes positive body image and self-esteem in girls and women through fashion, while donating a portion of our proceeds to the National Eating Disorders Association.  However, this was not the only thing that led to The Creation of Eve’s Rib.

I used to miss school because I was too ugly, miss parties because I was too fat, and miss life because I was too [insert any and all negative adjectives here.]  It was assumed that I would grow out of this after high school, but things only got worse.   While having a blast on the outside—seriously, an All-American, collegiate blast—I perfected the art of self-hatred on the inside, and no one was the wiser; sometimes not even myself. Read More »

So you’ve grown up, moved out, and now you’re living on your own. Still, whenever anybody asks where you’re from, you proudly state the place where you grew up instead of your current address. And no matter how much you love your college experience, there is still a comfortable feeling associated with returning home.

Your old bed.

Your old couch.

Your mom’s cooking. Mmmm.

However, no matter how long since you’ve left home, goin’ back never feels the same. Something changes; it may be a tangible difference or a change in emotion, but it’s different just the same.

When I returned home for the first time for Thanksgiving of my freshman year, I discovered the intensity of my mom’s home improvement kick. I drove away from a white house in September and pulled up to a blue one in November. My dingy twin bed was now a queen, complete with a handcrafted quilt and a wool blanket (a welcome change, don’t get me wrong). The pictures of my friends and I were out of site, and my shelves were now ridden with family photos and potpourri.

My room was no longer my room and it just felt weird.

However, there were also changes that run much deeper than my mother’s new home makeover. What would you do if you came home and the family you thought you had was completely different? This happened for me two years after I left for college. My dad took me out to dinner this past summer and told me that he and my mother were separating. The next day, he moved out. I had never lived in that house without him, and having to pick up the phone to talk to him just felt wrong. Read More »

So Adriana Lima and her VS 2008 Fantasy bra are pretty damn spectacular, but what’s a normal girl to do when in need of a little lift’n’seperation (minus 1500 carats’ worth of MAJOR chafing)?

There’s no need to shell out that 5 mill, girlfriend (because you were totally considering it and all); some of the best bras within your reach will do just as great of a job supporting your own gems, and you won’t need to take out an insurance policy on them. Read More »

I would have never dated me three or four years ago. Sure, I was lovely in most ways and I was a catch in most ways, but there was one little thing about dating that I just didn’t get: being friends after the breakup.

When my heart was broken before, I knew exactly how to manipulate the story to victimize myself and follow up with passionate vengeance. I never even gave a guy a fair chance to break up with me without it being ugly. And looking back on that, it makes me thoroughly sad.

These days, I understand relationships as more than ultimatums or pending doom and broken heartedness. Now I get it.

If I was that close to a guy before, close enough to let him be the only boy I would even kiss, he must have had something to contribute to the world and my life more than sex, right? Right. So why would I cut all of those positive things out of my life just because we made a decision to end the intimacy?

Upon realizing just how much I was giving up when I cut off all ties with my exes, I began changing my ways. I am now friends with all of my exes; yes, every last one. I have rebuilt the bridges I burned and, in fact, just hopped on a plane last month to go visit my most recent ex. As a FRIEND. And we had a great time!

When you are of the mentality that you can’t be friends with a dude after you break up, you are already hindering your relationship. You are already screwing up its natural course of growth and making aspects of the relationship ugly that don’t need to be. Damning your post-breakup relationship to Hell is not only immature, but it’s sad; if you liked a guy enough to date him, you should like him enough to be there for him when you’re done dating one another. Read More »

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