Passing the Bar.

Saturday night I went for drinks with some of my favorite girls. A rarity in many cases since we’re usually too busy being with boring people or out of town; neither an excuse but both valid cases. We found a table in the middle of it all and started gushing about recent love affairs, how to avoid a stage five clinger in a wheelchair and well, everything we were ahem, blessed to be witnessing. Classy girls don’t kiss in bars but apparently they do buy a table of inattentive guys a round while traipsing around in ripped tights. Here’s the good and bad of what to do, and more importantly not do, while out at a hip establishment on a Saturday night.

Never buy a man a drink

Never wear ripped clothing – tights are the worse! - unless you're on Skins

Never wear snakeskin

Only get felt up if you're in a tutu - if you're wearing a tutu you're asking for it

Never poll friends you don't know

Do scale everything in conversation on a level of 1-Bon Jovi - you don't want to set standards too high

No hoodies unless you just got off work at Lulu Lemon or your significant other is a Def Jam recording artist

Totally act bored if a guy with chest hair freely flowing from his too-deep V neck keeps talking 

Always let them come to you

777, See You Never.

It's no secret I'm a closeted Rihanna admirer, despite the fact that she is not so secretly still in love with the criminal cray himself, Chris Brown. So to promote her new album, Unapologetic, BadGirlRiRi embarked on a trip completely planned by DefJam staff in hopes of gaining some good PR....the 777 tour. 7 shows in 7 countries in yep, you guessed it, 7 days. Catchy, I'll give her team that but HELLO, might want to make sure the main act is up for the challenge before putting 250 uber-fans and quote-hungry journalists on a private jet. It started sweet enough, Rihanna welcoming the lucky ones while wearing her "crunk shades" and pouring "presidential cognac" freely while while walking the aisles of the jet. 

Everyone was flying around Europe together with 70 bottles of champagne and top-notch amenities but not enough time to see much of the cities or fabulous hotels, and no sign of Rihanna herself. Turns out, fans and journalists only saw her onstage, performing the same set with the same chatter in between. Poor Peter Rosenthal from Rolling Stone likened the experience to Groundhog Day, siting lack of sleep and lack of much of anything from Rihanna. Thankfully everyone made it safely back to NYC just in time for Thanksgiving but no one is left feeling all warm and fuzzy. RiRi issued an apology today but I think it's safe to say the damage is done. So what have we learned here? Don't agree to a press junket world tour in a week's time if you don't want to do press, and always ask yourself, what would Jay-Z do?

p.s. Of course I'm still bitter I wasn't there for any of the aforementioned shenanigans. Also, don't eat carbs today, you'll thank me tomorrow.

xoxo-B