The Frumanista

When I saw this when the episode aired, I got teary-eyed. I initially planned to find a way to link it to a post, but decided I couldn...

When she first began her shiur, I winced at her initial point. It wasn't terrible, just I didn't agree with it.  But an hour la...

My nephew, so very little, can flick his fingers with remarkable dexterity when playing "Fruit Ninja." I am constantly re-amazed ...

My sister dated for a long time. When I was little I would bre athlessly run to the window and peer in excitement at the battered sedan ou...

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease," he whines, for the shiny toy he sees on the store shelf.  "Oh, all right," I succumb.  ...

"Oh, I know just the boy for you," she trills, continuing to gush about his qualities. "Email me!"  The next mornin...

    I was first formally introduced to Brené Brown's work when happening upon her being featured on Oprah's Lifeclass a...

One date called me a Bais Yaakov girl. Two weeks later, another stated, "You consider yourself 'modern.'" I was w...

One of the reasons why I think the so-called "singles crisis" is hooey is because marriage, itself, has changed.  What was ma...

Having a stone floor in the bathroom does not bode well for my cosmetics. One innocent fumble, and wham—my Illamasqua Powder Blusher in Hu...