Happy New Years!

Things that happened in 2011
- I sort of started to wear heels
- I went on two OkCupid dates and they were Okay.
- I grew my hair out
- I made new friends
- Osama Bin Laden was killed
- I still didn't get my belly button pierced.
- I still want my belly button pierced.
- Tiana May Carter was maybe born?????
- Tavi G.
- other blogs
- I still can't play any instruments

Welp, 2011 sort of stunk and here is to a better year and hoping I get a job and a boyfriend amirite?
What else does a girl want?

I hope everyone goes out tonight and gets regrettably drunk or stays sober and looks adorable at in the corner of the room or the center of the dance floor and that they kiss or don't kiss whomever they want to.

I hope that your 2012 is filled with as much kissing as you want, as many long walks as you can fit in, a few sad nights at home on the internet wishing your life was more fun, really obnoxious karaoke parties, and that you spend some quality time with yourself.

xoxo Kadygirl


yr welcome

In case you don't know about Broad City yet, here you go:


P.S. I met* them this weekend and I was totes going to get a picture with them but they were selling greeting cards for a serious/somber cause and I wasn't about to be like 'HEY YALL, WHATS YR FAVORITE JOKE??' The cards were nice! My ma liked 'em!

*saw that they'd be in Union Square selling cards & went to Union Square


Movies I Haven't Written Yet

Plot: Young attractive female, out of college and wandering through life. She sees a 'wanted ad' to become a speech therapist. Out of desperation she goes in for an interview and lands the job from charisma, despite having no training in the field.
Introduce young attractive male with a stutter. He wants to become a politician so he enrolls in speech therapy.
The two of them fall deeply in love despite him literally having trouble speaking, and YAF being too fleeting to admit what she wants to say.
YAF never gets in serious trouble for faking certification
Genre: Rom-Com
Working Title: The language of love


Single City

*~*Advice*~* from someone who doesn't date people! (But sometimes wants to!)

-Don't complain about your girlfriend, just break up with her
-Date goofy people
-Don't date people who don't dance. They aren't fun
-Keep it weird
-Date someone who wears good socks. You don't wanna wake up in the morning and put on last night's socks.
-Don't cheat on your boyfriend, just break up with him
-Date nice people
-Don't date ppl who think Kathy Griffin is funny.
-Date people who think dads are funny.
-Date smiley people
- Date people who will think it's cool that you have a "Britney Spears", "Country Pop" and "E.U" Pandora stations


Everyday is DollyDay

I was just sitting in my room thinking about how much I absolutely love Dolly Parton and I remembered how little I've dedicated to her here.
So take some time to soak in the most glorious babe to ever rock it out here on earth!
I’m the kind of person that it’s hard for me to spend a huge amount on one outfit….. I’d rather go to Wal-Mart and get a whole bunch of stuff. Cuz it’s all going to look the same on me. I’m going to look cheap no matter what I’m wearing.
— Dolly Parton on The Oprah Winfrey Show


Judging OkCupid First Dates Based Solely on Usernames

Plz tell me all about you?!!
This guy likes two things--drumming and physics. Well, he probably also likes Reddit, python, and microwaveable chicken tenders, but he managed to narrow down the creme de la creme of his interests. These two things make him DESIRABLE.
On our first date he would keep trying to explain how airplane engines work and make horrible corny jokes to the waiter. Then he would ask if I wanted to go back to his mom's basement adn watch him drum.

Unlike drummerphysics, djdoritos might actually leave a 10 block radius of his house. He has probably gone to some parties, maybe even dj's at a few of them. He gets paid in rides to 7-11.
He is probably incredibly friendly and I'd like our date if I didn't notice all of the slimjim wrappers in his car.

This guy has interacted with exactly 7 people and most intimately with a G.I Joe action figure. He has a lot to talk about but won't make eye contact with me until he declares in a creepy way that he will pay for the date. He has also ripped the napkin into a million shreds and ate a few pieces by accident.

Our date will be full of disappointment--all on his part. What? I haven't heard of this new underground space in his friend's loft where people take acid and listen to morse code backwards? Unfortunate. Well, then...how do I feel about Russian nationalism in the 1890's? Oh I don't have an opinion--unfortunate.
I'll feel shitty about being unworldly until I realize he is paying with his Dad's credit card.

*i did not actually go on dates with any of these people


Why Being At The Airport is Nothing Like My Women's College

or, The time I paid $5 dollars for Cosmopolitan (the magazine)

For startsies, I have been hit on THREE, tres, III, times by somewhat cute guys here at Washington Dulles International Airport. In fact, friendly, studly TSA Agent McBabe even offered to carry my bags (a purse and a LL Bean back pack ;) ) down to the terminal. Why, I should always fly on Tuesday mornings when nothing happens at airports.

The other two guys were working at Starbucks and put a smiley face in my coffee foam. I wish that were an innuendo for something. It isn't, yet.

When I was in the women's bathroom picking a wedgie and braiding my hair (simultaneously) an adorable old man walked in by accident. Then he whooped in embarrassment and scooted out. I had a good laugh, but then I heard his little voice from around the door apologizing for being so rude. It's okay!

Basically, my only comparison to an airport and an all women's college is ALL of my exciting interactions with the male sex! And the fact that the male sex isn't Haverford males, and I've made eye contact with all of them!

Oh, I also bought a Cosmopolitan (the magazine) and am reading about Nicki Minaj's kinky sex & how to utilize a neck tie to GET WHAT I WANT NOW, IN 15 MINUTES, TO LOSE 10 POUNDS. The only person shaming me for reading this is the old couple across from me in Gate B50, probs jealous about all the tips they think I'm gaining. But I just read Cosmo for the perfume. Duh.

Lastly, why this airport experience is unlike my women's college, is the wonderfully hilarious family to my right. They are completely unashamed at how politically incorrect they are being, talking loudly about what terrorists looks like!

Bon Voyage!


So the room I live in at SKEWL is in the renovated garage of an old mansion. I know, I know, I am really cool, BUT that is exactly it. When they did this "renovation" AKA put in an extra wall and threw in some chairs and a bed, they must have forgotten to, ya know, like iNSULATE the place.

Everything is absolutely freezing all the time and I can't go to bed unless I'm dressed for the day at the bunny slopes. I was actually upset last night because I couldn't find my hat and I was tired and it was this never conceding but inversely proportional relationship of horror because it took me a really long time to find it.

When I wake up I always have to re-realize how friggin cold my room is and asses the shortest distance from under my covers into a hot steaming shower---ONLY TO BE COLD WHEN I GET OUT.

OK ok, this was unproductive and self serving--I've done my job.


~Style Inspiration~
Also, I'm going to start posting my slam poetry. Sorry I'm not sorry! ;-)


I'm currently trying to write sketches for my comedy group and the only joke I keep coming up with/think is funny isn't even a sketch. I just want a whole scene to lead up to this reveal:

"Hi, I'll be your doctor today, Obi-Wan Kenobi GYN"


DP Monday:

To all the hard working ladies out there, I give to you the classic, the unforgettable, 9 to 5. Happy Labor Day, y'all.


Trader Joe's Employees

Lately, I've been visiting Trader Joe's a lot because it is now the closest grocery store because the ACME is now a pit to the depths of consumer hell. It actually looks a lot like the Parks and Rec pit, but I digress. Wait, I don't quite yet. I hope a mainline mom that looks like AMy Poehler but has zero of her worth falls into the ACME pit.

Ok ok, so while ACME is having a deep clean facial, TJ's is the closest place to grab de grub.* Overall it is a fun shopping environment. They have cute names for their check out booths like "Joe-er Merion" and "Villa-joe-va." When the food isn't born and bred in USA then is has even cuter packaging names like "Trader Jose."
But the cutest thing about TJ's, inarguably, are the people that work there. Of course not all of them are spun from whole grain granola linens but you are guaranteed some eye candy while purchasing candied almonds dipped in chocolate caramel edamame crunch (caution: this is not a healthy snack/substitute for vegetable.)
The attractive dude employees sort of look like the cute older brothers from Disney Channel series and the attractive lady employees look like they would be your favorite contestant on Survivor.

This is such a good sales tactic because the looks are both approachable friendly. I was picking out some trail mix to drown my anxiety in the other day and this spunky, funky TJ employee bounced over to me. I didn't even notice her or her well manicured dreadlock (singular) peaking out from under her ponytail.
"Omg, try the mix with the tiny peanut butter cups. It is totally the best thing in the world."
"Uh okay" I say, still wondering where she came from and holding onto my beloved raspberry chocolate trail mix.
"You won't regret it. I am, like, addicted." And she picks it up and hands it to me and I'm still standing there thinking, like, I don't like peanut butter cups and next thing I know I've purchased two huge bags of trail mix.

Good work TJ team.

*There is some store called Food Source that I've been in a few times when I need a good cry. Thank you but no thank you, I can live with out lychee jam or blood oranges in August.


Girl, plz

I can hear your phone vibrating on the metal table. Girl Please

Do not ignore that phone and pretend no one else can hear it. Girl, please.

and thank you!


Don't Leave

"Don't leave while the party's still fun"

A fab friend told me that quote and I think it is completely applicable to my summer/new mission to have summer fun never end. I'm back at school now where it is really easy to be like Yawn, I'm going to watch half of a crappy TLC show and call it a Friday night.. That is partially because I go to school in the most boring of suburbs, but also because, I'm gonna say it, I'm over a lot of the college party scene. Or maybe, I'm just over the liberal arts college party scene. So it is ultra easy, like I said, to watch the first bride and a half on TLC, judge her and her bridesmaids, and decide that it was a fun night.

On rare occasions there is something fun actually happening nearby but my lazy butt is in lazy butt mode and I don't make those moves.

Ok ok, this is completely side tracked from that fabulous quote I have up there. Basically, I'm going to have a lot of fun this semester and I'm going to take advantage of all fun opportunities. And as long as there are fun things happening, I ain't going home.

Also, everyone should check out this blog: http://www.theboobsla.com . It is NSFW, but wutever, find a cooler place to work.
Double also, my friend Santana (http://gaytasia.tumblr.com/) is about to start blogging for them. He is hilarious, they are fabulous, all is well.

School sux dix



My freshman year I signed up for a OkCupid account. I was sort of led to it out of fear of going to an all-lady school and my greater ambition to perfect an online profile picture.
Mostly, I liked taking the quizzes and getting an affirming email once a week, 'Yo girl, I have never seen such a beautifull smile =] ;), want to send pics??"
Well, I'm not crazy about the addendum, but it comes with the 'package.'

I recently revamped my okcupid account to more accurately describe my online romantic persona. My first step was to remove "interested in poetry.' I love poetry, like I really love it down to its core. I study Renaissance lyric and nerd out over Lady Mary Wroth but I really expect no one to share that interest with me. I thought at the time, I would put it out there, because it is a part of who I am, but after the umpteenth message sent in limerick form about why I should give this dude a chance, I had to remove it.

I also manned (woman'd? womyn'd?) up and admitted that I am really serious about zodiac signs. I like to pretend I'm not. I cringe to think that I am turning into that lady that might not marry a man because her palm reader told her it'd be a bad idea. But the truth is, I will probably not respond to you if you aren't a Leo or Sagittarius. I didn't set out to discriminate, but I've never ever been romantically involved with anyone who wasn't one of those two signs. Sorry, y'all. But, in my never ending hypocritical cycle of love, I would not be interested in a dude who was like SORRY LIBRA LADIES, THIS HUNK ONLY HITS ON ARIES' ASS

Anyways, I'm basically trying to redo my profile to be as honest as possible. This is what it would ideally look like:
Kady "not from Mean girls" Ashcraft
Watching Say Yes to the Dress, Biking around my neighborhood in booty shorts, reading obituaries, hot rollers
Five Things You Can't Live Without
Say Yes to the Dress, Sags, Leos, my inhaler, q-tips
Most Private thing you are willing to admit
i love my butt...
Conact me if
You are a skateboarder, (my attractions have no matured since 8th grade...)


Dolly Parton + more

It's Monday, so it's Dolly Parton Monday.
Here she is strutting her lil plastic self. I love it

I'm starting to pack up to go back to school and I'm going through basement boxes. My cousin, Sally, goes to UMD but lives out in Cali-wood west coast nonsense. Basically, she left a lot of her fabulous West coast clothes here in our basement. Basically I've been trying on her sassy trendy clothes this whole morning and now plan to buy like 20 pairs of Frye boots and maybe finally buy a fedora.
Here she is in this cute off shoulder dress (shirt on me lol)

Not quite the same sitch with me, BUT I BET I COULD GET A JOB AT A CHEAP NIGHTCLUB LOUNGE


Fab Friend Friday

Daizy Rose Cushner

How we met!
Daizy was in the hospital room where I was born. Our parents are best friends so we didn't have a choice but to be best friends as well. She knew me when my name was Zoe Lynn.

What does she do?
Daizy is a full time art student in Boston, MA, as well as a nanny, and a marketing representative for Hint water. What a fabulously busy lady! She studies photography and art education at Massachusetts College of Art. Look out for her free art class she'll be teaching at the Southend Public Library on August 16!

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
"Living in a fabulous new city!" Possibly Chicago, New York, or Beijing! (She was a TA this past May in an art travel course through China) She also sees herself having two long haired dachshunds names Pebbles and Paisley. This reminds me, check out her blog here!

What about 35 years?
She sees herself being a lead art teacher at a DC charter school, visiting OBX every year (still!) with the Ashcrafts and O'neils. She'll probably have a fun husband, cute kids, and more doxies!

And WHO is your favorite fab lady, Daizy?
Her mom, Debbie! Debbie is cute, funny, acrobatic, and a friend to all.

Here is a quick photoshoot that was wildly embarrassing and fun. Hit the beach!


Beach Hair

'Beach Hair' is the hair one acquires if they have been sunbathing, ocean swimming, and shore drinking for at least four days in a row. It should be noted that 'beach' cannot be replaced with 'pool' because 'pool hair' is chlorine green, brittle, and does not connote the full effect of vacation. The last key ingredient to BH is luck. Poseidon, Venus, and the editors of Maxim magazine* get together and decide who is eligible for the gift that is beach hair. It is the perfect combination of crunchy salt water, being blonde, and wind tangled wisps. The trifecta of Gods then instruct all of the little sea monkeys in the sea to get their salon on. If perfected, beach hair can make shopping at Rite Aid look dreamy.
<---- However, the usual case of beach hair is clumpy, and too salty, and because it is salty you might chew on the ends of it because it tastes good. I mean, what? Here is a good example. Don't let the cute baby fool you into thinking this is cute hair. On a grown and fine lady, you would send that hair back to the wig shop. Maxim editors can't make it on these occasions and they send Betsey Johnson (sorry mama) for back up.

Anyways, I've been enjoying the beach to it's maximum and I've found that with my very fake and somewhat obnoxious blonde highlights my beach hair has reached new levels of fabulous. I think it also makes me better at beach bocce.
IMPORTANT IMPORTANT: Above is a photo of the best beach hair I've ever had in my life.

*Paul Mitchell shows up when he can


Last Night

Last night was literally the best night I've ever had in my entire life and there is only one person to credit. Well, there are two people to credit, one being my friend Raquel who has guts and also liquid courage.

Okay, okay so Raquel and I get off the metro at the Gallery Pl/Chinatown stop and are walking down 7th street in front of Clyde's. We realize that we're walking the wrong direction to the comedy club and do a quick U-turn. Little did I know that would be the best U-turn I would ever take in my twenty one years of being alive. Because when I U-turned we ran smack dab into the most angelic face that I've dreamt about since 3rd Rock from the Sun. Joseph Gordon Levitt
Okay, so I think that the best way to present this scenario is in the style of the "Expectations vs Reality" scene from 500 Days of Summer.
So, all in all, highly embarrassing. However I have a photo to cherish my entire life that will probably be blown in a full size poster or tattooed onto my heart.

Remember when I told you I didn't know where my night would end in that last blog entry about my dress? Well, I meant it. I do not know where my night ended because I was in a JGL daze that is still in full effect.


Lol. This used to be my work dress. Now it is my "going out on a Thursday and I don't know where I'll end up" dress.

I'm glad it could make that transition


Today I woke up feeling like P.Diddy. But probably not how Ke$ha felt and more that I actually just felt puffy.

--->Puff, excuse me, Diddy, excuse me, Swag, excuse me J.Lo's ex, as you can tell by this photo does not appreciate being literally called puffy. But it comes with the name, homie.


Fab Song of the Day



I've reached a point in the development of my personal style where I know what flatters me, and mostly what doesn't flatter me. But I also really believe that you could put anything on your body and as long as you're like "Duh, This is a dress that everyone should be jealous of", then people will get with it. Maybe it doesn't matter if it actually flatters you or not, just if you give off the air it does.

BUT there is one fashion item that contradicts all sense and nonsense and confidence levels, and that is the FEDORA.
Here is what I mean: I could never in my right mind put on a fedora and feel good about myself. I would be constantly wondering if everyone around me thought I wrote jazzy scat poetry. I would burry myself into a deep little embarrassed hole that wouldn't be covered by my tiny, cute hat. Maybe people would think I was going through a quarter-life crisis.

However when I see a lady wearing a fedora at a restaurant, on the street, on the train, on the television I immediately assume they are they are the coolest, sassiest, most fabulously bossy goddess creature to walk the earth.
Example A:
Lindsay Lohan is a trainwreck, we all know this. But when she wears this fedora it's like you want to dip out of her way or she will be late for that business meeting she is dressed so professionally trendy for.

Example B:
Katie Holmes, aka Tom's Stepford wife is TAKING CONTROL OF HER OWN LIFE. Fedoras are empowering. Check out the urgency, originating from within.
Those are two decent fedora examples so I won't go on. I was going to put up a photo of my own fedora attempt but it is so genuinely embarrassing. I look like an old man checking out young spring chickens or whatever. I literally look so creepy and sort of like Samantha Ronson, but mostly like an old man.

Anyways, at the end of the day, if you can rock a fedora power to you sister. You will have an easier time being my boss. I will respect you and be jealous of your hat donning abilities/

Ciao bellas



I hereby declare this a fabulous blog that follows fabulous ladies, and it will double as a blog where I talk about fun outfits I wear and fun things I do with my friends.

This all sounds very simple, and maybe even a little dumb. However, I strive in the face of doubt and I have faith this blog will survive into fabulousdom, even if that five minutes is just a sparkle on a sequin on a vest of a backup dancer. It all counts.

In addition to an introduction of intent, I want to introduce to my readers who at present do not exist, the artist from whom I've borrowed my fabulous 'header image.'
Hello Marilyn Minter, your painting are mind-spasmingly fantastic.
Yes, that image is a painting. This is also a painting
And so is this, and this. You get it. She captures that trashy, grungy, elegance that you might think you want, but then you remember how fun sitting in bathtub is. And how most Friday nights are really spent watching Project Runway reruns. Also, you are too broke to go clubbing AND get drunk.


I'm trying to think of a more joyous woman than Dolly Parton.
I put my hair in big curlers in sort of an homage.
I might make this blog an homage to joyous and fabulous women.
"It's a good thing I was born a girl, otherwise I'd be a drag queen!"