On Winter Whites

Like this zombie-reminiscent charmer to the left, the wealthy classes love wearing white in winter. Maybe it's a remnant of the primitive instinct to camouflage oneself in one's environment. But let's stop kidding ourselves. It's not that, and it's not because fabric dye has suddenly become passé, trust me. Please, allow me to explain.

Are you familiar with the nasty sludgy, slushy, gray-ish, half-melted nastiness that litters parking lots everywhere? Yeah, that stuff. It's everywhere. Shoes, coats, pants - this plague knows no bounds. But if you're wearing white, it'd show up even more dramatically - yet the ones wearing white are always the ones immaculately clean, aren't they? Beats me how they do it. I guess they're not into snow angels. It's just like Monty Python and the Holy Grail: "Must be a king./Why?/He hasn't got shit all over him."

But if you're even the tiniest bit practical, you know that as idyllic and darling wearing white in winter is, it's also a ridiculous laundry move. If you've got a white outer garment in your possession, you've now assumed the responsibility to bleach and wash it often or risk looking like a vagrant with big dreams.

So, to save yourself the water, the detergent, the time, and the frustrated noises you'll be making as you throw your once-beautiful coat into the wash, buy something colorful! Don't confine yourself to the standard neutral palette. Experiment with shade - find something outrageous and go for it. After all, it'll be that much easier for more people to find you in the case of an avalanche. Or, you'll just be triply eye-catching as you slip and fall less than gracefully down into that very same dreaded slush.

On Gourmet Meals

There's no place like home for the holidays, and rightly so. At this stressful time of year, who else would put up with you besides your family? Excuse me, I'm making the assumption that they do tolerate you. Whether or not you're spending this wintry season alone, with friends, family, or all of the above, you know what it's all about: the food. Quit trying to be so fancy. You're not.

In the middle of all the mess that comes along with a reunited family is the attempted culinary sophistication that invariably happens in nearly every kitchen across the globe. Instead of sticking to simple favorites, this seems the appropriate time to craft something complicated under the pressure of knowing that your in-laws are watching and judging from just beyond the stove top. Who needs caviar, escargot, kalamari, or any other slimy, slightly fish-y excuse for an hors d'oeuvre cluttering the tablescape?* Not I. Chuck the fancy vocabulary of braising, broiling, sautéing, flambéing, pureeing, kneading, scalding, and worst of all, cooking. You're not as lofty as you think you are when you talk like that. You just sound like an idiot.

It's hard not to focus on foodstuffs at this time of year, and healthy foodstuffs at that. We're staving off winter's chill with hot toddies and fresh cookies and a turkey or three or four. Thanksgiving is Hallmark's best excuse to wish you were wearing pants with an elastic waistband, and Christmas cookies are where it's at, not Christmas carrots. Plus, the more cookies you leave for the children to eat, the more hyper they'll be and the more places you'll find frosting when you clean next month. So really, you're doing everyone a favor by taking these sugary delights off their hands.

You're not Bobby Flay (and thank goodness, because he's obnoxious), so quit trying to be. Take it easy on yourself and those cooking with you and do what you know. What's wrong with Kraft Macaroni & Cheese on Thanksgiving? Absolutely nothing!

The point is to be thankful; the importance of the season is your attitude. So lay back, relax. Be yourself - and express that with how and what you cook. Watch the Macy's Parade and spike the eggnog. It's all in the spirit of giving, after all.

*Let it be noted that "tablescape" is a shout-out to Sandra Lee of the Food Network and all of her awful, awful awful ideas, catch phrases, and stand mixers that match her outfits. *

On Luxury Vacations

If your eyes work (no offense meant to any with ocular disabilities), you may be tempted by the white sands and clear turquoise waters of Antigua. Sure, the Caribbean sun baking your epidermis to an elite crisp is an offer that is hard to refuse. Chances of melanoma aside, you know better than to jet off to tropical islands for months at a time.

Trust me, and trust yourself. You know better.

To truly enjoy a furlough in a spot like Antigua, you'd need airfare (or, Heaven forbid, a cruise barge), a private house (no use cohabitating with noisy, SPF-slicked tourists), amenities for the week, and at least $5k in spending money. After all, you've earned this vacation, haven't you? And now POOF! you've just dropped $8,000 on your winter escape. Winter, of course, because it would be unbearably toasty in the summer months, and what better (and new) way to spend the winter holidays? Oh! Now add at least another $500 to the expense column, you've got gifts to buy and your family to bribe so they won't disown you for abandoning them in December.

Wow. Even when speaking hypothetically, my already-plundered and shrunken wallet has run for cover. And it doesn't scare that easily.

Do yourself and your travel partner(s) a favor and keep it simple. Even a day trip to a local spa or a weekend in a nearby secluded, nature-y spot will seem lush as long as you have the right mindset. Maybe you'll feast on McDonald's. But it's a McDonald's you've never been to before! There's an all new PlayPlace that you haven't yet explored or been banned from yet. Not to mention the new population of strangers who 1) don't know your life story, 2) don't know that you're a convicted felon in several states, 3) don't have restraining orders out against you (yet), and, most importantly, 4) don't care!

So go out. Discover. Adventure. Cause trouble. But for the safety of your wallet, please please please remain on the continent. You'll be glad you did.

On Estates

I'd be lying through my teeth if I said that I don't lust after grand mansions with sprawling green lawns, granite fountains, and lush gardens. Because I do - I really do. However, because I am in possession of my faculties, I realize that a real estate investment that size is just ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

Although a mansion sounds perfectly lovely - and I'm sure it's nice, for a while - what happens when it no longer impresses you? If such luxury becomes a facet of your everyday routine, does it become ordinary? Usually.

So, it's best to keep magazine clippings from Better Homes & Gardens pinned to the refrigerator so you can sigh longingly at them while your own affordable home collapses around you. Just think: if you were lounging on a handmade chaise while imported servant children massaged your feet and hand-fed you grapes plucked by the president of Italy himself, you would probably have to sacrifice your second Hummer or the elite private archery tutor for your children (which, as we all know, is an essential part of their well-rounded education).

It's true that your split-level is anything but glamorous, but consider your less-than-perfect beginnings a challenge to take your interior decorating skills to the next level. Outshine all those crazies on Next HovelDesignStar of America of whatever they call those decorating competitions these days and prove to your friends (if you've got any) and yourself (at least, if you're easy to impress) that you are worth something! And if getting out of bed is a challenge in and of itself today, just get some slipcovers and a colorful pillow or two and people will think you've hired a genius to renovate your pad. And that faux polar bear rug? Always a good idea, if you're wondering.

On Luxury Vehicles

Like any other impractical youth, I too have longed for the elegant limousines and stretch Hummers seen in the glossy pages of magazines. Or maybe even just an aluminum box with air conditioning and a functioning radio. Luckily, I have always been on a budget tight enough to not allow for such nonsense. But if you can afford a shiny new BMW, or this monstrous "recreation vehicle" (also known as the rich man's van down by the river), be tempted no longer.

We must overcome these antiquated longings for gilded chariots. Remember: function before form. What use is a shiny car, anyway? Shiny things attract the eye. The eyes of burglars and carjackers. Do yourself a favor and drive a junker. You can leave it unlocked (who would sort through the CDs or an apparent lunatic?), insurance will probably be low, and you'll always make a grand entrance. Chic? Maybe not. But memorable, most definitely. Sometimes we must sacrifice fame for infamy.

From a firmer financial standpoint, automobiles

depreciate at an insanely high rate, values dropping by the thousands as the miles between the fender and the dealership drop away in the rear view mirror. If you simply cannot condescend to be carried in this darling number, reminiscent of the Flintstone's grand mode of transportation, for Pete's sake, buy used. And no, I don't know who Pete is and why we're so worried about what he needs. Just go with me here.

And of course if you'd like to "go green" and save the world and cure cancer with panda flatulence and kitten smiles and rainbow hugs or whatever - you can carpool. Or take public transport. Enter buses at your own risk: be my guest and risk hepatitis. But either way, just promise to leave the limos for your wedding. Or a really big party. Or fun once in a while. Just not all the time, I'd hate for you to be the one Al Gore comes after when he finally creates an sunshine-powered machine gun.

On Personal Trainers

The year's most cruel, anticipated, and dreaded season is now in full swing: the fated time for beach-tripping. Many of us who feasted this winter are wishing we had started pumping iron six months ago so we could feel a bit more comfortable in this summer's swim wear. If only we could go back now...but since we cannot turn back the clock, we can certainly pay someone to tell us how to work out 24/7, right? Ummm. No.

Though exercise is a central part of a healthy lifestyle (along with diet), paying someone with a sculpted bod to tell you how to move your not-so-sculpted-self around enough to send their nonexistent children to Yale and back is just silly. Why do you need someone to watch you? If you've got any sense at all, you'll be self-conscious and will be made feeling incompetent by even the most sensitive and understanding trainer. Maybe it's just me, but with this ripped lady standing over my shoulder, I'd about wet myself with shame over my body fat percentage. A spotter is great, sure, but one you pay to stand there and make sure you don't strangle yourself on the bench press? Find a friend, already. Don't pay anyone to sit there and watch you sweat. You couldn't pay them enough.

If you're looking to lose some weight, tone up, or just maintain your already-rockin' self, a consultation with a personal trainer is a fabulous idea: get an idea of what kinds of work-outs you should be doing and find a gym (or the equipment) to do it yourself, on your own time. While the structured schedule of a daily or weekly appointment with a personal trainer can help you adhere to your goals (meaning that this person knows when you've quit and will call and guilt you out of bed and onto a treadmill), the self-motivation necessary to force yourself into exercising is a great skill to cultivate.

If you can convince yourself to go work out when your legs ached at work all day and your pecs tug when you lifted that gallon of milk this morning, think of the other temporary Hells you can now navigate, thanks to your newfound strength. Maybe, in a few months, after you've tried meditative breathing, you can calmly make a trip to the DMV or drive past a day care center without shuddering.

On Summer Homes

With the rise of North American temperatures so (seemingly) follows the budget of every above "financially average" family. I suppose if I blew my nose with $20 bills I would assume that a seasonal change necessitated and justified a hefty real estate investment, too.

However. This is not the case, and one shared house is more than plenty for anyone, excepting those who carry highly infectious diseases or produce reeking things from the kitchen (i.e; hand-dyed boiled socks or burnt anything). Wretched cooks and sicklings deserve solitude.

A beach or summer house is the enemy of an efficient (and savvy) spender. Why 300 square feet should ever cost more than a gallon of milk is beyond me. And it should be beyond you: an unsolvable mystery. An entire house devoted to relaxation, escaped responsibilities cough cough children cough cough and lazy afternoons drinking and baking in UV rays is ridiculously silly. Devote one room in your house to this and you've just saved a fortune. And don't worry about forcing little Denny out of the second bedroom to sleep on the kitchen floor (he'll only complain about those charming little mice anyway). I guarantee you've already got a room perfect for this: your bathroom. Sure, other people "need" to use it, but your sanity is at stake here. Don't risk it.

A sunny yet serene bathroom is best achieved in soft tones, forgiving lighting, liquor hidden in shampoo bottles, and cleanliness. Treat yourself every day instead of one week each July and you'll never have to worry about sand in the carpets or a drunk pool boy drowning the family dog ever again.