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08

Nov

Hair Miracle? Here's Hoping.

Have I told you the tale about my poor, fried mane? How after going blonde this summer, for the first time ever (blondes might just have more fun, after all) I ponied up the big bucks to have a keratin treatment, also known as the Brazilian Blowout, and soothe my poor, processed hair follicles?

Well.

The Brazilian Blowout essentially toutes itself as the America of hair products; give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses of hair, longing to be free from damage and frizz, and lack of shine, it coos. My stylist told me that after the treatment, I wouldn’t have to blow dry my hair, ever again—or, until the treatment wore off anyway, which was an average of three months. As someone who has unruly half-straight, half-wavy hair, blow drying has been my only savior. Sea salt sprays, suggestions of “oh, just twist and rub a little product at the ends—so easy!” and other “tricks” have left my hair matted, frizzy, and far, far from anything remotely sleek.

So, after hearing my stylist gush, and googling Brazilian Blowouts (Nicole Richie is a fan), I decided to go for it, and plunk down far too much money than is wise for my dream hair.

Well.

While rinsing out the treatment, my usually chatty stylist became very, very quiet.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just a second—I’ll be right back. I need to check something.” A phrase you never, ever want to hear your doctor, dentist, or stylist utter.

Long story short: soon three stylists, including the salon’s owner, were crowded around my now towel dried head, frowning. This has never happened before, they exclaimed. They called the Brazilian Blowout manufacturer, and they had never heard of this happening, either. Lucky me.

What happened was this: either the product or the extra hot flat iron used to seal the product in proved to be too much for my over-processed hair, and it was fried. And by fried I mean absolutely, positively ruined. Large patches of hair were curled into sad nests of frizzy doll hair. It was obscene. Apologizing profusely, they sent me home with a gentle flat iron and a bag of products they hoped would help to mask the damage, and didn’t charge me for the treatment. Obviously.

There was nothing to do but wear my hair up, and I have become incredibly creative with bobby pins over these past six months.

Since my hair can’t handle regular color, I have been using temporary at-home color, and crossing my fingers. The results have left much to be desired; flat, boring color that fades super fast.

I decided to take to the internet in search of a solution, and stumbled upon these glazes by John Freida. Oodles of magazines sing their praises, and so I think I’ll give them a shot. I’ll keep you posted on the results.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, will you? And maybe a toe or two, too.

XO Miranda

06

Nov

Oh, great. See this? This is the nutritional content of the only thing that I have been mildly interested in consuming these past few days while marooned on my couch, sneezing and coughing incessantly.
To my credit, I have been adding in a daily vitamin boost, an immunity boost, and a super 3G boost (it sounded fancy), but still—108 g of sugar? Almost 800 calories? Did I mention that I had two of these yesterday?
Leave it to me to pick the least healthy item at Jamba Juice. It’s just like my uncanny ability to always be drawn to the most expensive item in a magazine spread. I’m like a bloodhound for things that are bad for your thighs and wallet.

Oh, great. See this? This is the nutritional content of the only thing that I have been mildly interested in consuming these past few days while marooned on my couch, sneezing and coughing incessantly.

To my credit, I have been adding in a daily vitamin boost, an immunity boost, and a super 3G boost (it sounded fancy), but still—108 g of sugar? Almost 800 calories? Did I mention that I had two of these yesterday?

Leave it to me to pick the least healthy item at Jamba Juice. It’s just like my uncanny ability to always be drawn to the most expensive item in a magazine spread. I’m like a bloodhound for things that are bad for your thighs and wallet.

04

Nov

Alice in Wonderland

Ok. So, I didn’t exactly provide you with moment-by-moment Phish fashion coverage, as promised. Frankly, I was distracted. Not just by the surprising amount of edgy looks, fringy boots, and hair strand-thin metallic headbands worn high on the forehead (they were a revelation), but by the experience itself. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, but was in a meticulously cared for polo field, surrounded by vegetarian food vendors as far as the eye could see, rather than a rabbit hole. Did you know that when thousands of glow sticks sail above your head simultaneously, it looks like fireworks? Amazing.

Now, about the fashion. Although I neglected to snap photos of all the goodness I was seeing, I was fortunate enough to be traveling with some of the most inspired, fun dressers I know: my friends.

Natalie’s shimmery bronze Nike high tops were a highly coveted item by all, and looked even better next to Leanne’s shiny blues:

Halloween was amazing, and the costumes were terribly clever. Taryn and Leanne went as My Little Ponies, and pieced together their costumes from wig shops, random stores, and the shiny leotard mothership: American Apparel. They even carried along matching combs, so people could comb their hair and tails. Genius, and adorable:

Yours truly went as a peacock, and used a shimmery vintage blue dress as my base, then added on a homemade tail made with a ribbon, glue gun, and peacock feathers. I found a perfectly jaunty hair comb with feathers galore, and added little fingerless lace gloves:

26

Oct

Makeover: Frozen Standbys

There are just some nights when “cooking” is out of the question, and I draw the line just shy of heating things. That, I can do. But, the heating of food must not require much effort or participation on my part; there will be no simmering, then boiling, then bringing back down to a simmer. Not even my beloved grill pan makes the cut, and on these nights I rely on one appliance and one appliance only: the oven.

I also rely on my frozen, pre-made standbys: Trader Joe’s Eggplant Parmesan, and an Alexia Garlic Baguette. The Trader Joe’s eggplant parm is made without breading, and is delicious. This garlic baguette? I have no words. I have been obsessed with these puppies for years. And, they’re not all that bad for you fat/calories wise, unless you eat an entire baguette in one sitting, like I’ve been known to do. It’s culinary crack, I tell you.

So, with a pop in the oven, and a simple salad of butter lettuce, kalmata olives, and shaved carrots, you can turn this:

Into this:

22

Oct

Better in French’s Almost, Practically, Mostly Effortless Cooking Series

I wanted to make a new pasta dish the other night, but had limited ingredients. Using basics already in my kitchen, I came up with this “Not Meyer Lemon Pasta” with shrimp. There were a few rough moments, but it turned out beautifully.

Bon Appetit!

19

Oct

Elvis is in the building. Sort of.
My mother used to make these toasted peanut butter and banana sandwiches for me as a child, and I have carried my love for these perfect breakfast sandwiches into adulthood.
My version is a riff off of Elvis’ rumored beloved sandwich, which included honey, and possibly bacon. I keep mine simple with creamy organic peanut butter, and not-too ripe bananas.
PB&B Breakfast Sandwich:
Spread peanut butter over two pieces of toasted bread (I prefer whole wheat)
Add slices of banana (I find that lengthwise slices are better than the coin shaped pieces often found floating in cereal bowls across the country. They stay put when you bite into the sandwich, as opposed to the round slices, which shoot out from all angles the moment your teeth hit the bread)
Smoosh the two pieces together, and cut (if you’re feeling truly daring, you can enjoy this open faced style, and just nibble your revved up toast)

Elvis is in the building. Sort of.

My mother used to make these toasted peanut butter and banana sandwiches for me as a child, and I have carried my love for these perfect breakfast sandwiches into adulthood.

My version is a riff off of Elvis’ rumored beloved sandwich, which included honey, and possibly bacon. I keep mine simple with creamy organic peanut butter, and not-too ripe bananas.

PB&B Breakfast Sandwich:

Spread peanut butter over two pieces of toasted bread (I prefer whole wheat)

Add slices of banana (I find that lengthwise slices are better than the coin shaped pieces often found floating in cereal bowls across the country. They stay put when you bite into the sandwich, as opposed to the round slices, which shoot out from all angles the moment your teeth hit the bread)

Smoosh the two pieces together, and cut (if you’re feeling truly daring, you can enjoy this open faced style, and just nibble your revved up toast)

15

Oct

Salty & Sweet

I’m sorry to do this to you. What I’m about to show you may forever weaken your ability to shun sweets in favor of healthier fare. That, and cause you to frighten the bejesus out of your innocent friends, like I did the other day:

It’s a mix so perfect, so genius, that I’m shocked it took me 27 years to stumble upon it. Ice cream and potato chips! Now, stay with me…these aren’t just any potato chips. We’re talking about krinkle cut, salt & fresh ground pepper Kettle chips. With Purely Decadent’s peanut butter swirl coconut milk ice cream.

Since words can’t possibly describe the bliss, I’ll try to convey the outrageous yumminess via a photo: