After a three year break from movies, Wes Anderson returns with his newest film, Moonrise Kingdom, which comes out tonight. It features a lot of the actors you would suspect in an Anderson film, like Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman, along with some fresh faces for Anderson including Ed Norton and Bruce Willis.

If you’ve seen any of Wes Anderson’s work, you probably feel like you know all about him. There always a common theme with Anderson: dysfunction. But it’s treated with whimsy and an eccentric eye for detail. His stories are set to beautiful backgrounds, that are just a little off. They’re always just a little different from reality, and usually a lot more fun.
But, there are a lot of fun facts that even Anderson fanatics may not know.

Here’s some great Anderson trivia, so you can seem like a major cinephile when you see Moonrise Kingdom.

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Ariana Romero is a student at Syracuse University. That would probably explain why she once had a load of laundry filled solely  with orange tee shirts. She watches too much television and reads too much entertainment news than is probably healthy. Follow her on Twitter @ArianaRomero17.

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Who or what inspires your style? Many of us use T.V characters (like Joan Holloway) or celebrities (like Courtney Love) as style inspiration, even though, most of the time, they are being dressed from head to toe by the best stylists. Which we don’t have. And sometimes it’s damn near impossible to work their Hollywood looks into our not-so-Hollywood lives. I’ve made it my mission to tap into the mind of a fashion stylist and show you how to take your style inspiration – whatever it may be – and make it more you!

The Royal Tenenbaums is one of Wes Anderson’s many dysfunctional-family masterpieces he is infamous for. Besides portraying one of the strangest and most awkward families known to humanity, the main characters in The Royal Tenenbaums each have an extremely specific style, much like cartoons, that they hardly ever drift from.

Exhibit A:  Margot Tenenbaum.

The adopted daughter of Royal Tenenbaum is a prodigy playwright at the tender age of 14… which happens to be two years AFTER she starts smoking cigarettes. She’s one messed up lady, but still, somehow, inspiring to me in more ways than one.

It wasn’t until meeting Margot that I wanted wear a slip-dress and sit on the edge of a tub, smoke a cigarette and paint my nails (but that can wait because I’m definitely not about to attempt in a dorm shower).  It wasn’t until Margot that I wanted to wear a striped shirt-dress with a fur-coat and Hermes bag.  It seems like a weird combo, yes, but Margot Tenenbaum’s style is the perfect combination of casual and luxury, innocence and glamour.  She combines pieces that no average person would ever put together to create her signature style and doesn’t give a sh*t what other people think.

And while I don’t want Margot’s family or lifestyle, I definitely love her look.

Product Info- Faux-fur jacket – Karmaloop, $156; Eyeliner – Rimmel, $3.49; Satchel – Karmaloop, $35.00; Shoes – Aldo, $54.98; Dress - Forever 21, $11.50

What I love most about Margot’s look is that it’s unique and totally stands out. What I hate about it is that it’s impossible to mimic without resembling a Halloween costume. So I went ahead and took a more real-world spin to make her style my own. I replaced the Polo dress with  a cute (…and short… and tight) striped dress and paired it with a leopard (faux) fur coat. It’s sexy, fun and unexpected. I mean, really, how many girls would wear a leopard jacket? But why not? It’s probably the most fun and chic way to stay warm. Plus, it sets you apart from everyone else in their black-top-dark-jeans-black-heels uniforms.

Adding a hot pair of pumps (instead of Margot’s loafers – who do you think I am? Definitely not someone who would recommend loafers.) will elongate those legs and go splendidly with the dress when you ditch the coat. Now add Margot’s signature structured bag (the juxtaposition of the fun leopard and the refined bag makes the look even more interesting), smudge on a little eyeliner and, if you really wanna channel Margot, start making out with every guy you meet (but I’m sure that’s what most of our college weekends consist of under certain drunken circumstances anyways).

I will admit it, I’m an awkward girl.  I’ll say goodbye to someone and then walk in the same direction as them with a stupid grin on my face.  I’ve messed up high fives more times than should be legally allowed.  I’ve called my roommates good friend (whom I’ve known for months) “Tyler,” when his name is “Lucas”…HOW DO YOU MESS THAT UP?  I’m able to take a perfectly normal moment and transform it into a typical scene in any Wes Anderson film (it’s a gift). The trouble is, I don’t realize how incredibly dorky I must look until looking back, and slapping my forehead accordingly.

So by the rules of physics (which I am unsurprisingly sucky at) it would only make sense that I would take this persona I’ve been cursed blessed with and apply to almost every sexual encounter I’ve experienced.  Well, of course, the beginnings are more of learning experiences rather than “fun timez.”   Now let’s time travel back 7 years when it all began…

Cue the hazy flashbacks and dream-like sound effects.

It’s 2002.  I am 12 years old and in 6th grade.  According to the more experienced middle-schoolers on the playground, I had a “boyfriend.”  This boy would talk to me on AOL (yeah…old skool), but we wouldn’t dare even look at each other during school.  I was so nervous to have a boy like me, I was completely unaware of how I should act around him.  Even at school basketball games together I was so scared just to sit by him because maybe he’d put his arm around me! (OMGG!!)  So one day I decided I needed to break out of my shell a bit.  My good friend lived by his friend, and on weekends I naturally spent most of the weekend there trying to make plans to have us all meet up and hang out.  For the 4 months we supposedly dated, this “weekend hang-out plan” worked literally 1 time.

That night my mom called me asking me our plans for the night, and I told her we were going to see a movie (lie). What I was really doing was sneaking out with my one friend to meet up with my “boyfriend” and his friend.  This rush I got from lying to my mom for the first time sent me on this adrenaline high of “I’M SO EFFIN’ COOL I CAN DO ANYTHING! I’M A REBEL!”  Later that night we eventually met up, and, as was naturally destined for me, it was awkward.  I’m pretty sure there was an unspoken agreement between the group that me and my “boyfriend” should seal the deal and KISS!

I can definitely say that feeling “nervous” was an understatement.  We stood there in the backyard in the dark for what seemed like hours in the middle of an mid-April night, as our friend sat on the curb of the street under the streetlight patiently waiting for the deed to be done.  It was chilly and I didn’t have a sweater, so I decided I was sick of being cold and waiting for my first kiss, so I leaned in so he’d get the idea.  He definitely got the idea, and as I was slowly ready for my first kiss to happen, even schizophrenically hearing the tune to “Dreams” by Cranberries in my head, that record scratch sound came into play at that very moment.

Instead of demonstrating a sweet (and normal) peck to be given, I felt something wet.  Huh? WTF David Blane?  He. Licked. My. Mouth.

He didn’t even start with a normal peck and move his tongue around, like an inexperienced 6th grader might.  He straight up licked my mouth like a melting ice cream cone in August.  Maybe he was expecting a sexified makeout session, or maybe he was expecting a normal kiss but started it off wrong?  Was it wrong that I was expecting just a peck?  So as a mature middle-schooler I was, I decided to stop… and start screaming.  I walked out of there wiping my mouth and ran to my friend so she’d get the idea that we had to leave NOW. 

I realize this story should be called “Seven Years After” instead of “The Morning After,” but I also know that first kisses tend to stick around in everyone’s memories. And this one just had to be shared. Anyone else have some first kiss horror stories?

I’m gonna say it: I’m a big sap. Especially when it comes to puppies. There’s something about big, soulful puppy eyes that makes me squeal like a four-year-old. And all that cuddly fur. And those widdle, widdle paws…

But what’s cuter than puppies? Guys who love puppies. A dude who’s totally into playing around with man’s best friend is always effable in my book, cuz you know what? Chances are he’ll be equally as affectionate when he’s rubbing your belly and scratching your back. Prime example: Owen Wilson. His new film Marley and Me opens Christmas Day, and you can bet your (rawhide) bones my butt will be in attendance to see him (and his pup) shake their tails.

It’s not like I needed a cutesy dog movie to want to eff Owen Wilson, though. He has been very high on my radar ever since he appeared in The Royal Tenenbaums, which he co-wrote! (Since he’s a writer, and I’m a writer, clearly we are soulmates. Clearly.) As an actor, he’s been able to master all different varieties of comedy, from the subtlety he expressed in The Royal Tenenbaums to the full-on goofiness of Wedding Crashers. Emotional range is so effable.

Oh, and lets not forget that Owen’s sexiness definitely runs in the family. Score with him and you could count among your buddies his brothers Luke and Andrew, too. Mr. Wilson has been romantically linked to Kate Hudson and, most recently, Jennifer Aniston. I take it he likes blondes. Okay, O, if you ever want to jump ship and get to know eff a brunette, please call me!

Until then, I’ll settle for some effable photos and my vivid fantasies.