The Frumanista

"He wouldn't tell me his age," she said, "but I know he is well into his thirties."  I translate that as pushing ...

As I mentioned in my very first post , my obsession with skincare is genetic. My grandmother, to this day, loves a skin cream, yet even way...

When we last saw our heroine , she had finally discovered a liquid foundation that seemingly matched her neck, and sped off into the galaxy...

My household has never been into family dinners. As the youngest, I got home earlier than my siblings, and in turn my father arrived later ...

I was babysitting for Luke. The house was blissfully silent, the three big(ger) kids snoring peacefully. I had just tucked myself in when h...

I wrote previously how my gluten-free application of Busy in Brooklyn's cheese latkes were a big hit amongst the kinfauna.  I've ...

When it comes to bridal hair, I am all for updos. Not my favorite. B y frummie weddings, the bride usually hits the dance floor a...

Once upon a time, if someone had a weird self-imposed diet, that was their own business. If invited out, they would simply abstain from the...

A guy and a girl were sitting behind me on the train, chatting about their dating lives. Naturally, I pretended to be asleep and eavesdroppe...

I have more nervous tendencies than others, so I worked out early on how to keep myself . . . relatively mellow.  For instance, I know ...