RHONY's Simon van Kempen Drops Single

Are you sitting down?  Look who just dropped a new single! It's none other than Real Househusband of NYC Simon van Kempen. Why? Why do they do this? Just because you're capable of opening your mouth and forming words while music plays in the background of your Brooklyn basement does not mean you should be dropping a single. 

The name of the single is...wait for it..

"I am Real"

A more aptly named title might be "Is this for Real" but hey, whatever blows your hair back.  Any publicity is good publicity I guess?

Sad Songs

Finally, a real soundtrack to slit your wrists to! I saw this on sale at Heathrow Airport and thought it was amazing.  Why hadn't anyone thought of this before? Do you know how many times I've wished I had a playlist labeled "feel bad for yourself tunes" that I could throw on? Multiple.  It's the perfect mix to put on after a break-up, a fight, a bad day at work or just another event in my constant quarter life crisis.
I've listed a few of the songs below, all are amazing. Especially Sinead O'Connor.  And, don't you worry this is only Volume 1! There are many other sad songs to sulk to in the future.


1. Eva Cassidy - Over The Rainbow

2. Norah Jones - Don't Know Why

3. Dionne Warwick - Walk On By

4. LeAnn Rimes - How Do I Live

5. Dolly Parton - I Will Always Love You

6. Don McLean - Vincent

7. Janis Ian - At 17

8. Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

9. Willie Nelson - Always On My Mind

10. Chicago - If You Leave Me Now

11. Air Supply - All Out Of Love

12. Mike And The Mechanics - The Living Years

13. Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2U

14. Phil Collins - I Wish It Would Rain Down

15. Breathe - Hands To Heaven

16. Blue - Breathe Easy

17. Maxi Priest - Fields

18. Roy Orbison - Crying

19. George Michael - Jesus To A Child

The Pedicure I took Lying Down

Being two city chicks on a city vacation we decided a little spa experience in Barcelona was in order.  So having the champagne taste that we do, we decided on the spa in Hotel Arts – a Ritz-Carlton property exuding luxury from the moment you cross its threshold.  The Six Senses Spa happens to be on the top two floors of the establishment with a view of the Mediterranean you could die for.  Since we’d both been tromping around these European cities on horse hooves that needed some serious attention, we opted for a luxury pedicure.  However, “luxury” as defined here is completely subjective. 

I don’t think words can accurately describe this experience, but I’ll try.  After relaxing in the steam room, sauna and vitality pool our spa attendants fetched us and brought us into our own private rooms for our pedicure service.  I was given the choice of two nail polishes – fire engine red or clear.   I was then placed on a massage table and my eyes were covered with some sort of “relaxing” towel.  I was thinking um…how the hell is this all going to go down? Where is the water part of the pedicure going to happen?  I was about to find out. 

After she individually examined each toe with a tug and pull that can surely be classified as torture in some cultures, my attendant sloughed some sort of grainy, granite exfoliating rub all over my dried out feet and lower legs sans agua.  Now, in my situation of being temporarily blinded, I of course couldn’t see this operation going down. And I do mean operation. It sure felt like my legs were bleeding.  I was petrified to find out how this mixture was going to remove itself. 

My attendant sounded like she found her way to a sink and did the dishes for a while before returning with a bedpan. The massage bed rose slightly and my feet were placed in the bedpan.  I was at such an awkward angle at this point.  I was balancing my bleeding feet in a bedpan in a position that felt like a yoga pose.  As I worked my core, my uninspired attendant splashed water on my legs trying to remove the granite shards.

I kept biting my lower lip trying not to crack up laughing at the sheer absurdness of the situation.  I felt like a blind, bedridden terminally ill teenager.  In this scenario my mother who was filled with guilt and felt horrible that I couldn’t just be a normal kid decided to give me an in-house pedicure.

I remember thinking: well, maybe the foot massage part of this production will be worth it.  My attendant gently brushed my feet for a total of 8 seconds and asked me if it felt good. I’ve heard that one before – and for the record it was average.

Kitty Bjorn

Yup, you're seeing that right.  That's a cat curled up in some sort of leopard print baby bjorn on the Paris subway.  On top of it all, the cat was purring. This Parisian feline is clearly a seasoned commuter.

Today's Paris Street Shots

We Like to Party

While setting up a little picnic in the garden Tracy and I were approached by a gaggle of teenagers.  They eagerly asked us a number of questions (in French) – and intently awaited our answer.  Tracy’s French is a hell of a lot better than mine, so I figured it was better to let her handle the encounter.  Turns out they were from Spain and visiting France with their French professor and were doing an exercise where they had to interview people in French.  One would think they would have moved on when they realized our elementary grasp of the French language.  What ensued was 15 minutes of garbled back in forth about the sun, Notre Dame, and shopping in broken French, Spanish and English. But, my favorite question from our Q & A:

Student: Do you like to party?

T & R: Oh yes, we like to party.

On the Street Chic

I think Tracy has a definite fallback career as a paparazzo if her current gig doesn't work out.  I'm loving some of the street pics above.  

What I'm also loving is the organized operation she had going down as the official Eiffel Tower photographer for a few minutes.  Observe her glorious reign below:

Tulle a la Toilette

Look, it’s a real life Carrie Bradshaw.  Maybe she escaped from “The Russian’s hotel” and stopped in the park to relieve herself only to find a line for the public toilet. 

Bonjour from lovely Paris! As I sit here soaking in the sun in the Jardin du Luxembourg I figure why not share some of my observations on the city’s fashion and culture:

- Whoever said orange and pink should not be worn together was extremely disturbed. The same goes for red and pink.  People are rocking pink shirts with red pants like it’s going out of style. Imagine that.  We didn’t even know it was in style!

2 

- I- -  If you’re going to own a pair of Nike sneakers they should be metallic gold with a red swoosh. I am   finding a pair immediately.

3)  -   Giant headphones are back as the new  “it” accessory. Don’t be caught with ancient ear buds. 

4)   

-     - Spring wear 2011 – Floral skirts, opaque tights and converse hi-top Chuck Taylor’s.

5)   We worry way too much about what’s in and when you can wear it.  Suede, leather, floral, cotton, linen, lycra, denim – there is only one season of style over here. 

6)   

       - The French women don’t get fat mystery still alludes me.  People eat giant tarts and baked goods everyday, they toss back the wine and they don’t exercise.  Seriously I have yet to see a gym or a yoga studio. I saw one person jogging yesterday and given his attire, I’m pretty sure he was American. 

Tracy and I are continuing our tradition of marathon sightseeing, making sure we devour the city from top to bottom with very little food or drink.  Save for some creepy ghost dreams (I swear they were dreams) our accommodations are top notch – we’re staying in a gorgeous extended stay apartment complex. The “sensual studio” with the galley kitchen is bringing us right back to our Beacon Street roots.  We’re just missing the futon, the brutal ex-boyfriends and our Scientologist neighbors.

Oxford Coma Part 2

Oxford shoes. I said I wasn’t going to do it, I even wrote a blog about how awful they were. I still kind of feel like they’re horrible – but I gave in.  I can’t help it, I'm a slave to trends, I shop too much, I read too many magazines and apparently I make far too many promises I can’t keep.

In my defense, though I’ve purchased two pairs of shoes that fall into the oxford genre – neither are completely flat and one pair doesn’t even have laces.  I just felt like I had to come clean.  I’m sorry.