Today Moni, lead singer for Masternation came over to conduct a business meeting with my hubby. I’ve been dealing with a massive anxiety attack which she helped subside. First of all, she brought me a sandwich. Never underestimate the power of a good sandwich. Then, she sang her latest song (soon to be released on wood grain vinyl):


Hipsters don’t say hi

Hipsters, I just want to know why?

A simple “Hi” when I wave at you

A little nod or smile would do

A friendly word

You don’t need to be a turd

Oh hipster, poor little sad hipster

I think this guy is a manager at Jewel.

I can’t get the tune out of my frickin’ skull. It’s not only genius, it’s the new Slacky Hipster theme song. To think, I was getting worried that I wouldn’t have the right jingle … I kept thinking nothing could top the introduction sing along songs for The Facts of Life, or Diff’rent Strokes.

Now I can say, “Move over dorks, I’ve got a hit on my hands.” I think Moni should tour again. I miss songs like, Sand in my Cookie (inspired by working out on the beach), and Hairy Knuckles. I also miss being the band’s performance artist. Fans, refill your Zippos and make sure to belt out the Slacky Hipster an turn it up to 11! Maybe, the new hit will motivate Masternation to dust off their air guitars and get out of retirement.

Let me take you on a magic mustache ride

The fake mustache trend showed up on the runway in 2008. Who would have thought that four years later, the accessory would still tickle both our fancy and our upper lip? My girlfriends and I got together last weekend for an annual pillow fight. Once in a blue moon, we kick our husbands, kids, and cats to the curb for a night of girl bonding. One of the ladies surprised us with a package of adhesive facial hair and the next thing we knew, stars were born.

We went on a magic mustache ride; a journey right up there with the one time I declined a proposition to join the mile high club. Each of us, stood up from cozy bar stools and became thespians. Before we could control what was happening, we were all acting like guyz. “Yo, whad up with the sushi?”

How bout’ a beef sammie, make it wet. Why I outta call Freddie, he’s got the best salami.You always get an extra couple of inches of meat from dat guy.”

My mustache stopped being sticky after a few paparazzi shots. WARNING: champagne and fake mustaches don’t mix. So us gals moved on to bigger and better fun. Ladies, when you bond, let it all hang out!

l-r: Ricky, Mario, Olga (aka Unibrow), Nick, the banker from Monopoly and Salvador Palsy.

I’ve found that the older I get, the more I learn about having fun. So, if you are hosting a ladies night, or  are an attendee, I recommend that you bring the right props. Here are the ingredients for a great girlie get together:

The menu should be light nibbles. Think small plates and appetizers. If you’ve got the buckage, sushi and cupcakes make an impressive spread. To help with the cost of the bar bill, guests should bring something to complement what the host plans to serve as a signature drink … and I’m not talking about a straw. My gals love the bubbly, so we each had a bottle of champagne in tote. It can be a lot of fun, tasting different sips from the variety of bottles. A tasting that lasts for hours and hours.

To create a great vibe, music is vital. Never play the Eagles or country-western (yes, despite the current line-dancing craze) unless you want everyone to leave. Instead, sneak a peek at Facebook, and look up the guest’s profiles. Under the music section,  jot down what bands they like and create a custom mix based on their tastes. At the last party, we heard Arcade Fire, R.E.O. Speedwagon, Florence and the Machine, Rihanna, and Lady GaGa. The mix was perfect.

Although there is never a lull when my amigas gather, I recommend having some no-brainer amusements. There is usually someone in the crowd who reads tarot cards to add mystery, intrigue and drunken stupidity. Mad Libs, question games, and even reading old high school diaries are hilarious. For those who stay late, bring out the moose munch and watch Bridesmaids. How can you go wrong?

See, this is why the guys stay home, cuz if they were at this party they’d really be taking one for the team. To think all this time, they thought we were talking about sex and having pillow fights in our panties. Hmmm … I guess that’s more sexy then the thought of a group of grown women acting out an 8th grade slumber party. Or is it?


My sophisticated friend Moni, may be all grown up, but this hasn’t stopped her from playing with dolls. Monica Tolczyk, a highly regarded packaging designer and partner of Mint design firm has a side gig that’s worth a glance! Moni creates custom Barbie type dolls, housed inside a real package that’s accessorized with all sorts of goodies. The doll is a personalized figurine that defines character with tiny collections of scrape-book moments, silly commentary, and small bits of tchotchke.

At first, I wondered if my friend had a glue sniffing problem and had really gone mad. Then she made my doll…a tiny replica of  beauty and all that is good. She, “the Fabulous Erin Doll” is behind a protective plastic bubble. Around her are things that tell a story about me….lots of champagne bottles and secretive moments that only a real friend can document. It’s sort of like a “roast” in a box with gravy and mashed potatoes!

On the back of my box there is a small fish, next to a toilet and chocolate frozen frogurt. Well, that’s what I tell people, but truth be told, that sweet treat is really a serving of crap. Why do this to me? Well, why not.

Once upon a time I lived alone in a charming vintage loft. The walls were paneled like an old Sherlock Holmes study, pocket doors divided the rooms, I had two fire places and giant crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. This was the “Holly Go Lightly” pad where I felt like a lady and survived on tea sandwiches and champagne.

It had been a while since I’d dropped the kids off at the pool. I was listening to a little jazz and suddenly I made a dash for the powder room. That’s when the earth moved. Never, in my lady life had I produced a #2 on this scale. Frankly, I was frighted…that was a lot of cucumber sandwiches!

Howdy Ho!!

I flushed the toilet and stood against the wall biting my hand as I witnessed the water slowly churning, and rising over the rim. I watched as the Cincinnati steamer cascaded down Niagara Falls and continued down stream, surfing upright on a large wave, like Mr. Hanky. It swiftly cruised outside the bathroom, banked left and journeyed towards my china cabinet. I ran out of the bathroom and suited myself up in Hunter boots and rubber gloves. Catching this runaway log was no easy feat, but once I had it in my gloved hand, I ran to my back porch where I threw it like a football over the back fence and into the alley.

Of course, I told everyone that I had fish for dinner and I didn’t want to stink up the garbage, so I used my toilet as a garbage disposal. This was why my parquet floors were buckled. What a mess. It was years later after plenty of vino and cheese that the truth came out and Moni had to go and blab about it all over the world!

Ahh, but you’ve got to love a gift that is created by this woman who has such a magical mind.

Maddollz: it’s fabulous! It’s art! It’s totally personal and everyone wants one. Mention Slacky Hipster and get a free hug with your purchase.

More dollz:

In the closet.

It was Friday, close to 5 pm and I’d  had a long day wrestling mannequins. Like most Americans. I was ready to celebrate my happy hour.  Buttoned up and ready to fly at 5 pm, I headed to my friend Michelle’s closet, where I knew there would be plenty of booze and LOADS of eye candy. It was a jouney trecking to her place. I felt as through I was headed down a long and sinuous dirt road in a horse and buggy. I was ever so thirsty…and finally I arrived.

Michelle opened the door looking fabulous in Prada shoes, leggings, a Donna Karen top and a crochet knit sweater. I was wearing an old Penguin t-shirt, Not Your Daughters Jeans (note, these have a tummy tuck feature to hide your PBR gut). On my feet were the standard Puma sneakers, and around my wrist, a bracelet that I stole from my friend Moni when she was drunk.

We walked into her well organized, beautifully stocked closet and popped a bottle of Moet White Star Champagne. The custom closet designed by Closet Works, includes  mahogany shelves, and traditional library ladders. All the hangers match. The ceiling stretches up to an impressive 18 foot high where a fairy-tale crystal chandelier dangles and lights up the room. Every squre inch of the grand space is filled with well organized frocks. I feel like I’m in heaven surrounded by her shoes, boots, cashmere sweaters, designer gowns, and coats. It’s very oooh-lah-lah dahling!

Taking all this in required more bubbly. I popped open another bottle of champagne because after being there 15 minutes, I’d polished off the first.  No, my eyes weren’t blurry, I really was standing in a closet that contained some of the worlds best designed clothing, and accessories. It was like being in a gallery for anyone who appreciates fashion. She collects clothes and accessories….beautiful art pieces from world travels, family heirlooms, Neiman Marcus fab finds and way more.  She’s a well-healed shopper, but loves a bargain basement find.  She reaches deep into the racks and extracts a sequenced top from All Saints and a sweater dress from Target.

Nice, but I’m hardly interested when I’ve got the threads of Missoni, Prada, Burberry, Dolce and Gabbana, and Alice and Olivia wrapped around my little finger.  Too bad I can’t go shoplifting here because nothing is in my size. Besides, Michelle is my friend. This little lady may be into her shopping therapy, but this doesn’t make her selfish (that would be me, as I polish off the last of the champagne). A favorite charity that she contribues towards is, “Dress for Success” a non-profit committed to helping under privileged women find jobs and look smart. So, if you have any garments worth donating to a great cause, follow her lead! But for now it’s time to leave this magnificent closet. My glass is empty!