Kitty Purr Purr

Cats aren't usually my thing. I'm a dog kinda gal - except when it comes to boys - and, I always profess that you might one day find me adopting the 'old lady with the 9 dogs' look.

Anyways, I couldn't resist sharing a few charming pics of these 'lil purring darlings with their male counterparts from Des Hommes et Des Chatons. 

Scroll through. Drool. And, pick your favourite tomcat.  

Nice guys finish last.

"Would you like me open the car door for you? I'll even hold your hand while we take a moonlight stroll through the park. I'll tell you how I genuinely feel about you - no lies, no photoshopped feelings and no douche bag moves. Did I mention that I reply to SMS's, return calls and will buy you lots of chocolate (AND a love fern) to compensate for my lack of smoothness?"

Nice guys. You tend to find them at the back of the line. They insist that they always finish last. They complain that girls bitch about douche bag behaviour from aesthetically pleasing boys, and that we never pick the 'nice' ones with honest-to-good personalities.

Watching my friends and I dance our way across the dating arena has subsequently forced me to confront the curse of the anti-jerk. I've met quite a few admirable and polite boys along my way, and yet I refuse to engage in anything besides mindless chatter with Mr Thoughtful.  

Case in point: Mr Cubana. It was 2011. I had lost my cellphone for the 2nd time in two weeks, resulting in one-too-many tequilas in an attempt to drown my sorrows (and pockets). Boozed up and full of bravado, I decided to take the next logical step - hunt down my beloved Blackberry on the dance floor! It was around this time that a sweet, young boy with a sober face offered to join the search party. 

He took my digits and called my phone a few times to see if anyone would pick up. Alas, the Blackberry was gone - douche bag phonebook and all. The next day, I received an unexpected call - Mr Nice Guy from Cubana! He was honest, polite, uncomplicated and genuinely wanted to see if I had survived the aftermath of the night before. I gracefully declined his offer of a coffee date. Why? He was just too damn nice.

This was the classic case of a a respectful, interesting and friendly guy getting the thumbs down simply because he wasn't challenging enough. He was honest and asked me out - no mind games and no lies - and yet, I still couldn't let him through my portal of lust. Where is he now? He got engaged this week and seems pretty content with life.

 The problem with nice guys is that they are too mild. Dull. Colourless. They woo hearts through a peachy and pleasant demeanor, and eventually morph into the 'Yes Man'. The 'Yes Man' will agree with whatever you say, bring you cupcakes when the crimson wave hits and call you every single night. The defect in this standard of behaviour is that it becomes exhausting to put up with - the guy loses his appeal when he loses his identity. If I wanted a date who agreed with everything that I said, then I'd be having Friday night slumber parties with a pot plant.

We want you to respect us, respect yourself and to essentially bring your own brand of spirit to the game. We want to be seduced with the aroma of well-earned authority and hands that entwine with ours - only ours. Jerks are tempting because we do love a great chase, but are far too hard to maintain. 

So don't suffocate us with sweet nothings. Don't agree with us all the time. And please don't give us chocolate/flowers to prove that you're a good person. Just be you. That's enough. Oh, and maybe wear cologne. That helps.

Arteries Be Warned - The Whopper Has Arrived

ATTENTION: US fast-food chain Burger King opens it's much hyped about doors tomorrow to carb-loving Capetonians.

Why should you care?

It's almost Winter. Times are tough. If you can't hustle up a cuddle-buddy, then you might as well eat your way through a few cholesterol-inducing Whoppers. So, the clothes might start to cushion your derriere a little too much, but it's cold and, we all need an excuse to keep warm, right? Well, at least that's going to be my excuse.

The first 1000 people will receive a free burger - so, if you're a hardcore lover of buns of love, I suggest you get yourself down there ASAP. 

33 Heerengracht Street.

Pout, you're on candid camera!

I simply love it when celebs look 'almost normal' in casual shots, taken at parties/soiree's/places-where-pretty-people-get-together. It reminds me of snaps from www.thunda.com - minus the drooling faces after a few tequilas & stares from weirdos across the dancefloor.

The sweet people at vogue.com (okay, well mainly Grace Coddington - she seems to be the only one who knows how to smile)  happily shared a few candid snaps of Tinseltown decked out at the Met Ball. Love.

"Punk: Chaos to Couture"

The annual Met Ball took place in New York last night - the theme being "Punk: Chaos to Couture". 

Punk has had a major influence on fashion over the years - it was all about breaking the rules, pushing boundaries and thinking outside the box.

Punk was historical. Punk was about freedom. Non-conformity. Screw the rules & put on your favourite garb.

Get concert ready in a FLASH.

If you're one of the lucky ones then you're probably heading to one of the much hyped about concerts  coming our way very, very soon. Not sure what to wear? Determined to steal the Bieber's heart OR just keen for some mature man candy with Bon Jovi?

I've got a few ideas of what you could wear - Winter warmers in May never looked this schweet!

My Favourite Covers..So Far.

A magazine cover can either get it right & reel you in, or it can be terribly bad & incite feelings of gut-wrenching horror. There's a fine line between creating a cover with just the right amount of words to graphic ratio, and taking things a step too far. 

A cover can sometime be the motivating factor in grabbing a particular magazine off a shelve, and in my case is performed with the enthusiasm of an addict on crack. The saying "don't judge a book by it's cover" doesn't really sync through to the world of magazines - an iconic publication is bound together by a beautiful paper cover, and ideally should  transcend directly to one's literary soul. 

These are some of my favourite covers, which  essentially have inspired me to write more sweet nothings & create more magical concoctions in my 'lil old cerebellum.

Losing It

This was the piece that I wrote for Glamour SA in June this year. It basically chronicles my weight loss journey & how far I've come in terms of accepting myself physically.

It's a weird cycle of hate, self-loathing, acceptance, change & a little va-va-voom at the end! I'm big on eating right for yourself, and taking those baby steps all the way to the changing room at YDE. I've been there. And it's a nice place to be.
So, send me an e-mail if you have any questions on diet/exercise/anything-in-between - pllmay001@gmail.com. I promise to be nice :)

I was born this way babyyyy

I had to whip out some Gaga hair for her concert last Monday in Cape Town. I may have been mistaken for a pink milkshake along the way, but it was Gaga so who gives a fudge?!

I literally felt like a little monster - complete with OTT makeup & paws in the air. Mother Monster was amazeballs!! Gaga really doesn't hold back & took us on a journey through regret, shame, empowerment and liberation. If you missed out - shame.

"Just put your paws up, 'Cause you were born this way, baby"