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I think it's supposed to read, avoid texting while DATING

I think it's supposed to read, avoid texting while DATING

This past weekend we lounged around at DABA headquarters doing what DABAs do while partaking in a group Hamptons detox, indulging in self-help book binging, marathon man over-analyzing discussions, work catch-up (from having ditched out on work early the last five Fridays), and sushi spending sprees. (Bt dubs the Hamptons detox is a chic new diet that calls for no burgers, fries, or blacking out for two days and gives you a healthy glow in less time than a roundtrip Jitney ride.) One of the founding DABAs had dished some tough love crackberry advice the previous night to another DABA Girl and each were presenting their closing arguments:

DABA Girl #1: You most definitely cannot become blackberry messenger friends while casually dating.

DABA Girl #2: I disagree. It is not any different from texting.

DABA Girl #1: What planet are you living on? When you blackberry messenger you can see when the other person has read your text message. It takes away all mystery, and all the fun from flirtexting. What if they don’t respond right away? What if they read your text and then don’t write back? Maybe for hours? I don’t care how many yoga classes you’ve gone to that day, you’re going to freak out.

DABA Girl #2:  You are officially an OCD DABA BBMer. I’ve dated enough finance guys to know that they are extremely busy at work. Text reply time is in no way reflective of their feelings. 

DABA Girl #3: Really? I always thought that there was a reverse correlation between text response time and their feelings for you. The shorter they take to write back the more they adore you.

DABA Girl #1: Oh no you didn’t just play the I’ve-dated-enough-finance-guys-to-know card. Lemme tell you my friend, I’ve dated enough finance guys to know that what DABA #3 so articulately explained is tres true.

Well, the debate was never resolved (the blondies from Gwyenth’s GOOP email last week emerged from the oven just in time to calm the brewing tension) and so we turn to you to settle the debate: should a blackberry messenger invite be the new engagement ring? Do not accept unless you expect to partake in a serious monogamous relationship. Or is it the new text message?

Send in your votes today.

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fashionforward

We have to admit that sometimes we feel a little (or maybe a little more than a little) guilty about spending so much on shoes, clothes, etc. I mean, the price of one pair of Brian Atwoods is equivalent to how much it costs to support a child in a third world country for an entire year.* And by support we mean pay for their housing, food, clothing, and education. We don’t need that guilt on our shoulders- what if it keeps us from getting our beauty sleep? A serious fashion faux pas! That’s why we’re going to DABA girls Dang and Auerbach’s event tomorrow. What’s better than confession with cocktails. See you (and LL) there!

xo

The Daba Girls

*prices vary depending on the third world country.

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"Surf Lodge again? It's sooooo last season. Oh-veeer it."

"Surf Lodge again? It's sooooo last season. Oh-veeer it."

Did you opt out of a Hampton share this summer due to a recently acquired out of work status slash your FBF’s recently acquired out of work status? Don’t fret- we got you covered, here are some excuses sure to salvage your reputation better than the than the same old “it’s because of the recession:”

“I just got off the waiting list at Soho House and you know I would rather spend my weekend tanning on the roof deck with the b & t crowd than sitting in traffic to hang out with them at Surf  Lodge.”

“It’s so strange but for some reason I have a relative in town or a wedding every single weekend this summer, unless of course you’re inviting me to be a guest at your Hampton’s house.”

“I’ve recently taken up with a group of Euros. They prefer to stay in town on the weekends and race their sports cars through the empty streets in the city and let their vacation time accrue so that they can take off all of August and yacht in Sardinia.”

“I had sooo many invites to soooo many different houses that I just couldn’t let anyone down. You know how it is. Oh, you don’t?”

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WNBC featured the DABA Girls’ recession friendly dating tips this morning on Today in New York. Did anyone see it? Probably not since it was on at 6:30 am!  Don’t worry, next week it’ll be on NBC’s Taxi TV in nyc cabs so you can watch it over and over and over again. (I mean, thank god for the Off button)

Incase you don’t live in New York and are dying to hear how to navigate the dating world during the recession, we’ll post our tips along with the ones that weren’t shown next week. Stay tuned!

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cookiemonster

 Cookie Monster got laid off too!

Is your FBF down about his recent job loss? Just alert him to the news that I came upon while walking through the Union Square subway. I mean, you know things are bad when Sesame Street characters are having to preform street art. There’s officially no need to take the recession personally.

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Please excuse all the watermarks but this is way better than the picture on guest of a guest!

Please excuse all the watermarks, this pic is way better than the one on guest of a guest!

Last night I went to Louis Sarmiento’s 30th Birthday because, let’s be honest, there’s nothing else to do these days besides for party with the euros. It was a sit down dinner for 100 people at where else, Bagatelle- of course the dinner was at Bagatelle. I was seated across from Patrick McMullan who was trying to set me up with his 21 yr old son, who he swears is as mature as a 30 yr old (which makes total sense since all the 30 yr olds that I know act like they’re 21), and then sandwiched between Brie Cross and a blond euro in a pink Herve Leger dress. Said euro turns to me and in a heavy eastern european accent asks,

“Vere are all de Americans boys? I am sick of de Italians and Russians. I vant to play vith the boys who dress, how do you say, preppy.”

I paused, looked around the room that was home to a 3:1 ratio of girls to guys and shook my head. She definitely wasn’t going to find them here. But what was I to do? Direct her to Brother Jimmy’s and The Village Tavern? I did what since le recession I have become quite good at and changed the subject to bigger and brighter things, like her Leviev shopping bag. I mean who carries around a Leviev shopping bag? Out came the most gorgeous diamond bracelet I’ve ever seen. How do you say “jealous”, because that’s what I was. All of sudden I didn’t want to be hanging out with euros anymore either. I gave Miss Cross a kiss goodbye and was home by 1 am with just enough awake-ness left to watch 30 Rock, which I reminded myself they do not have on Russian yachts in Capri.

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Howdy dowdy hottie!

Howdy dowdy hottie!

 

So we’ve been slacking on our posts this week. It’s not for lack of inspiration though, quite the contrary. First off, one of us was busy filming a segment for WNBC slash Taxi TV on Monday. And then of course there was the almost 200 point drop in the Dow yesterday. Plus today the New York Times declared that “The banker suit is definitely dead.” – making today probably one of the toughest days of the year for finance metrosexuals everywhere. And it’s not that we didn’t mean to write a DABA Girl Daily Warning, it’s just that with Mercury in retrograde everything seems to be taking so much time and effort. But not according to Fox News, who just reported that the recession is making everyone more interested in love (supporting data includes a 20% increase of members on eHarmony.com- which I think just means that people are more desperate to hook-up, but that’s not based on any scientific knowledge). Don’t ask why I was watching Fox News- I swear I turned on my TV and it was just on.

Plenty of juicy stories will be on their way next week, along with some great recession fashion ideas. While under normal circumstances the above link would take you to Astrologyzone, today it takes you to homegirl Paula Froelich’s matchup game (I figure it will take your mind off the lack of DABA posts).

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Yes mom and dad, this is where I was Friday night. But I swear, New York is totally not corrupting me.

Yes mom and dad, this is where I was Friday night. But I swear, New York is totally not corrupting me.

 

When the invite to Sapphire’s opening party arrived I forwarded it to J faster than you can say “neon green g-string.” I knew out of all my friends she’d be up to check out the new strip club in town, I mean Samantha Ronson was DJing according to the invitation. We RSVPed and input it into our blackberry calendars (Monday, Lap dances with J, 9 pm, Sapphire). I had an inkling that it would be good blog research.

Friday night, out of the blue, J was invited to a distant GIRL friend’s bday party at the very place we were going Monday. She insisted that I come. We said “What hell, we’re getting a sneak peek, it’s like we’re VIP (or something).” and headed up to 60th street. We strolled into Prime, the steak restaurant attached to the club (because obvi streak and stripers are the perfect combo meal). I was promptly seated next to some hedge fund guy. He started a fund and some online liquidation thingy and he’s so stressed out and he needed another scotch and he hurt his knee and he just wanted to go to bed and blah blah blah.

After dinner the bday group moved into the strip club. We settled into the back, which was perfect for spying on everything going on. This was a first for yours truly and I was fascinated. My observations: 1. my lame hedge fund dinner partner suddenly perked up once we got inside (shocking), 2. the whole place was FULL of 20-30 somethings year olds in suits (bankers? Bankruptcy lawyers? I didn’t dare ask), and 3. these girls were hot. Needless-to-say, J and I didn’t make it to the opening party last night. Sorry Sam and Li Lo- ironically it was just a little too much reality for moi. Ladies, Scores may have closed, but Sapphires has opened and I have a feeling it’s going to be doing juuussst fine, recession and all. It may in fact be the new It spot.

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Yamma, yamma, yamma!

Yamma, yamma, yamma!

 

Sunday I met up with Rachel, one of our Chi-town DABIT contributors who was in the city for Easter weekend. Indistinguishable from their NY counterparts, except for their higher tolerance towards the cold, Rachel was obviously down to grab cupcakes mid-afternoon. We navigated our way through SoHo, destination Sweet Revenge. Sweet Revenge is the new “It” cupcake place having just won Time Out’s best new cupcake title. We at DABA headquarters love it for a number of reasons, they serve wine and beer, perfect for drinking off recession blues, their Happy Hour special of a cupcake + a glass of wine for $10 keeps us and our dates equally happy, and their cupcakes are way more fabulous than their too sugary Magnolia counterpart. Best of all, it’s tourist-free.*

Once we got settled, I found out that her and her fellow college DABITs have found their college bars empty, drinks suddenly NOT flowing for free, and their future FBFs nowhere in sight. She told me the tale of one of her besties, who is currently seeing–and by seeing she means a couple dates, an invite to his fraternity formal, and many rendezvous at the bars that end in sleepovers–an IFBF, an Intern Finance guy Boyfriend. You know, the hot young college guy who delivers the mail, answers the phone, and does just about anything our FBFs ask in hopes to some day be just like them. 

However, lately the said IFBF has been working overtime, canceling major ragers at his house, missing bar specials on Wednesday nights (apparently Wednesday is the new Thursday), and dipping out of his fraternity’s mixers. Why? Because he is afraid that when he graduates, the state of our economy will prevent him from finding a job. His brilliant solution is to put more hours in at his internship, make a good name for himself, and be able to hopefully swoop right in when he graduates and land one of the coveted non-existent jobs.

 “DABA girls” she pleaded, “I beg of you to ask your FBFs (even though I know they’ve added this site to their favorites) to give their interns a break. Let them know they’re only in college once; they’re too young to worry about the economy and finances, especially when M&D are still footing the bills; they should be spending their time planning themed parties and Striving for Five (getting black out five days a week, a basic requirement of college life). Have them let their interns know that they have faith in the economy (even if they don’t) and that all their hard work will definitely pay off when they graduate (even if it won’t).”

“Don’t do it just for us” she said, practically crying into her cream cheese frosting, “but for all the other DABITs who are having girls’ nights EVERY night due to the lack of male representation, who are taking themselves out all lonesome to art openings and charity events, who wear their brand new Alice+Olivia dresses around the house for each other and not out on the town where they should be seen.”

Despite my combo sugar and caffeine buzz, I heard DABIT Rachel’s plight.

To all our beloved FBFs who read our blog, we’re confident that, if you encourage your intern to venture out of his cubicle, he’ll go back to being the attentive IFBF he once was. And by this, we mean he will 1) evade our baby DABITs’ calls (teaching them the valuable lesson of playing hard to get) 2) slum with Bottle Poppin’ GITS until 3) he realizes that DABITs are SO much more attractive and classy. Not to mention the fact that letting IFBFs have some fun every once in awhile will increase their ability to work efficiently… if only so they can hurry out to their frat parties.

 Thanks a bunch!

XO

The DABA Girls

*Note: Don’t even think about spreading this info through the blog-o-sphere. We promise you that any tour company that leads out of towners to our new spot will feel the wrath of DABA.

 

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Exhibit A

Exhibit A

For weeks now, like some collegiate virginal dude I have been staring at the same magazine cover: The Sport Illustrated swimsuit edition (Exhibit A). The first time I walked by it, I stopped dead in my 4 inch heel tracks. This is possibly the curviest model I’ve seen on the cover a magazine in a loooooong time. I was dumbfounded, she’s got an ass, boobs, “hell, moi should be on the cover of that magazine” I thought delusionally to myself.  

Then came the fashion spread in W magazine. While skimming through the magazine that I borrowed/stole from my neighbor, the one with Drew on the cover, I couldn’t help but gasp out loud when I came to the Harvest story photographed by Mario Sorrenti (exhibit B).

“This model is bigger than you!” I mused aloud to my minuscule size 0 apartment.

I phoned up my petite-a-tite partner in crime and asked her if she had noticed the fashion faux pas fluke. Per usual she had a semi-factual explanation to the social phenomenon ready to go.

Me: “Yo, wud up with the models.  They seem to be get gettin’ bigger- wtf!”

P.I.C: “Ob to the vi. Laney, this most definitely is to be expected. We are in a recession, and therefore curves are back a la the Great Depression.  Resources are scarce and therefore it’s a sign of wealth and prosperity if your woman is full-bodied. The size of models is going to reflect this and they are going to start getting bigger. Remember the early 80’s during the Saving and Loan crisis when designers were putting SHOULDER PADS on everyone? Same thang my friend.”

Me, in utter shock: “I, I don’t understand. We’re not talking Playboy; we’re talking W MAGAZINE! Are you trying to tell me that Beyonce and Scarlett Johansen don’t need lipo?!? That models might actually stop eating Kleenex for dinner?!?”

P.I.C: “Precisely.  Now, go throw out your scale and stop hiding your ghetto fab bootie behind that hoodie, which b.t.dubs wasn’t fooling anyone anyways.”

I hung up without so much as a “peace out”.  My P.I.C.’s shocking word awoke me from the semi-comatose state I had been lingering in for the last month courtesy of a juice fad diet.  I realized that this was a totally victorious coup for DABAs everywhere.

No longer do we have more “ass than the models.”  Rather the models will be heavy on the T&A.

Feel free to ring up your fav Chinese food place and don’t fret when it arrives with two sets of chopsticks even though it’s just you and your couch having dinner; stop casting judgmental stares at that anorexic girl at your local coffee shop whom you are secretly jealous of; throw away those size 25 jeans that you’re never going to fit in to again…Rumor has it this recession is going to be going strong for the next 5-10 years. ENJOY IT! (and all the egg rolls you want a yumma yumma yumma)

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