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April MUST HAVE: Pink

Posted by on Apr 13, 2012 in Life and Style | 0 comments


Deniz is Le Fashion Monster and every time I land on her blog I get an awesome style idea. She has a knack for picking classic pieces and adding just the right amount of splash to create outfits that embody L.A. living.

Here is Deniz’ MUST HAVE for April:

For April, I’m tickled pink.

As a blogger, I love to pick themes for my blog every month. This month, my theme is pink. By incorporating pink into my outfit posts, I really get to explore my comfort and creativity with this color. Being a blogger constantly tests my imagination, and this month, with pink being my theme, one of my must-have items are these pink “Belinda”  heels from Sole Society. These heels are perfect for April! Bold, fun, and versatile!

The reason these Sole Society pink pumps are pure perfection is because they truly put a smile on my face and…I find it to be a challenge to wear them. Good news, I love a challenge! Don’t be afraid to take a risk with shoes, after all, they really can be the ONLY staple in your look. Jeans, a t-shirt ,and a pair of killer heels? That’s all you need.

My question to you Sex, Life and Hannah followers is: how would you wear these “Belinda” heels, and what is your pink  must-have?



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Work of Art

Posted by on Apr 6, 2012 in Life and Style | 1 comment



Our silhouette contest winner shares an excerpt out of her erotica:

….Anna’s eyes still closed she wondered where he went.  His warm touch no longer on her skin.  She cracked her eyelids to peer out and saw him mixing his paints.  So eager he was, so adamant, so concentrating and so passionate about his work.  She couldn’t help but to love him.  Closing her eyes again, she took a deep harnessed breath and let it out shakily.  She only flinched slightly when she felt the soft bristles and cool paint contact her body for the first time.  It was just above her naval and as he stroked his canvas, it led a trail of tingles inside her.  From that point on her body melted to every stroke of his brush.  Lying there, her head swimming as if she had consumed too much wine, she was taken by the way her body betrayed her with the touch of his brush on her naked body.  At first his touches made her twist and turn a bit.  Being ticklish was a trait she inherited by her mother.  But soon she settled into the bliss of the feeling of the smooth, wet and thick substance being stroked on her skin by the very man she was soulfully in love with.

Her breathing got more labored with each stroke of the brush as he poured more color upon his special flesh of a canvas.  She felt his strokes so slowly, almost painfully slow.  Moving over her hips and down her thighs, across her stomach, up over her breasts, around her nipples, across her shoulders and gliding over her neck to her chin and continuing over her face, over her nose to her cheek and back down her neck.  She was wrong before….THIS was the most erotic thing she had ever experienced….

Julia Becca is a business co-owner, wife, mom, and fitness instructor. Writing and photography are her biggest passions and she has five books currently published. You can view her work at:

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March Must Have: Happiness

Posted by on Mar 12, 2012 in Life and Style | 0 comments

be happy

Last week I had a meltdown. My client started pushing an impossible deadline, I felt I couldn’t get past editing Chapter 24, I felt word wasn’t getting out about my Book Cover Contest, which started giving me anxiety over word getting out about my book release party at Book Soup on June 1st, and then I talked to my editor who told me she wasn’t even sure we were going to be ready for June 1st. And maybe I was PMS-ing a little too, which is so weird to me because I swear, I never PMS-ed until like three years ago. And then I dumped all this fear and anxiety on my new assistant. It wasn’t pretty, but it’s what happens sometimes. We are humans, therefore, we are not perfect. We are vulnerable to our insecurities, and obsessively allow things to spiral out of control in our heads because as much as we strive to be strong, sometimes we are weak.

The next day I posed the question I pose every month to my book community: What is Must Have for this month? I love asking this question because I always get an array of responses. Sometime it’s a fashion nugget, sometimes a travel getaway, or a call to action, and this month, as if someone was beaming into my battered psyche, it was a reminder of one of my life goals: happiness.

It’s important to want to achieve, and taste those accomplishments, and make money, and feel successful, but more important than any of that, it’s important to be happy. It’s important that whatever you’re doing and whoever you’re doing it with is making you happy and not getting you so wrapped up and worked up that you’ve forgotten why you were doing something in the first place. You only have control over so much. Things may go exactly as you envisioned them, or not all, or end up somewhere in between. And all you can do at the end of the day is not worry, and just be happy.

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February Must Have: Alone Time

Posted by on Feb 14, 2012 in Life and Style | 0 comments


I’m not trying to be a Valentine’s Day Grinch, and the timing of this post is not really intentional. I was actually hoping to do this post last week, from the pool of this amazing house in the Hollywood Hills I found that rents out a room or two every now and then to wandering artists. Except the rooms happened to be full the week I needed to take off to work on the next draft of Sex, Life, & Hannah, so I pouted, ordered a pair of custom-made boots instead and blew half the budget I had for my alone time.

I’ve been craving proper alone time for a couple years now; not in the form of my trip to Toronto a couple summers back where my parents wanted me to check up on my sister, or my trip to Las Vegas last January where they wanted me to house hunt for their second home, but time away from everything and everyone. Time to turn off the internet and my phone and all the expectations to be somewhere and do something with someone. Time to reflect and be creative and just do what I want to do.

A lot of us, especially when we’re in relationships where we live with people; friends, family, boyfriends, husbands, children, feel guilt requesting alone time, or feel like wanting alone time is a sign of something worse: the end of a relationship. “I’m not cut out for marriage, I don’t enjoy being a mom, I never want to see my family again” you start to think, tugging at your hair. I know I felt that way initially a couple years ago when I started thinking and talking to hubbie about taking a private sabbatical. Of course it was peppered in with discussions of not feeling sexually satisfied as well, which I’m sure didn’t help either one of us properly evaluate what I was really trying to say.

Looking back I have had a lot of quality alone time in my life. I was fortunate. I’ve mostly lived without roommates and gotten to travel for work and usually extend those business trips to include a few days just for me. Even as a child I remember my parents allowing me to take a day off from school sometimes because I wanted to be alone in my room and do what I wanted to do. When me and hubbie got married and I got out of the corporate world and into independent contracting, I didn’t realize how abruptly it was going to change my lifestyle. And while on the one hand I was looking forward to living with him and not having to pack a suitcase every other week, I realize now I miss my alone time, and need to find a better balance in my life than our current status quo. Not necessarily a job where I travel 50% of the year, and not necessarily my own studio apartment, but maybe a week, or two, or more that I spend alone.

I just started doing some research into this, and am finding I am really not alone. This Psychology Today article is kind of long, but definitely worth the read. Here are my favorite excerpts out of it:

Being alone gives us the power to regulate and adjust our lives. It can teach us fortitude and the ability to satisfy our own needs. A restorer of energy, the stillness of alone experiences provides us with much-needed rest. It brings forth our longing to explore, our curiosity about the unknown, our will to be an individual, our hopes for freedom. Alonetime is fuel for life.

Throughout history, we see individuals who have tired of the confines of civilization and voiced a longing for free space. Tidal pools, empty fields, mountains, trees, and oceans evoke peace and contentment. Something sacred fills these open spaces. I believe we long for “places with no roads…but plenty of space” from the time we are children.

Romantic love and a stable relationship were once seen as antithetical to each other. Now, according to one study on couples, “The two are supposed to exist in harmony. Partners are supposed to be able to switch from lawn-mowing and diapers to torrid sex at the drop of a hat; from long hours at work to sweet moments in the sun.” The strain on couples to be all things to each other is no less than the general strain on people in all areas of society. Can all this be accomplished without one of the partners calling for time out? Obviously not, for it seems that as the push grows for greater and greater intimacy between people, so has the number of couples seeking separations and divorce.

At some point most idealized lovers become ordinary human beings. With the reappearance of this reality, a restlessness born from too little alone time also becomes apparent. Now each partner has to return to their individual concerns in life. Couples who successfully handle this impasse do so usually through a renegotiation of the amount and condition of time spent together.

As individuals in a relationship evolve, so does the couple itself. People constantly transform one another. Sex may sometimes be hit-and-run, at other times a union so deep it feels biological. Commitment can be a joyous sacrament or a chain around one’s neck. Alone time allows us to reflect and sort things out. It is not necessarily a way to escape from bonding, for often we find our way back to someone else during alone contemplation, and forge stronger commitments.

…the artist in all of us must risk disconnection, for forging a happy and worthwhile life—and navigating through that life fully and gracefully—is itself a creative act.

Life’s creative solutions require alone time. Solitude is required for the unconscious to process and unravel problems. Others inspire us, information feeds us, practice improves our performance, but we need quiet time to figure things out, to emerge with new discoveries, to unearth original answers.

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A good winter

Posted by on Feb 10, 2012 in Life and Style | 0 comments



Can’t beat this kind of winter.

Life is definitely more about lifestyle. If you can organize your life exactly how you want to live it, you’ve reached true success, and it matters less what you have or don’t, or think you should. We get so caught up in expectations…

Maybe you should get out of London, or at least get yourself a proper overcoat. Regardless, have a good weekend. Enjoy the frigid temperatures and snow because you know they don’t last forever, and there’s something to learn in them as well. Maybe sneak away to a library and allow yourself to read something…just for fun.

Always love you, D:)

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Miss July Grows Older

Posted by on Feb 8, 2012 in Life and Style | 0 comments

miss-julyPhoto: Poetry Dispatch

MISS JULY GROWS OLDER by Margaret Atwood

How much longer can I get away
with being so fucking cute?
Not much longer.
The shoes with bows, the cunning underwear
with slogans on the crotch — Knock Here,
and so forth —
will have to go, along with the cat suit.
After a while you forget
what you really look like.
You think your mouth is the size it was.
You pretend not to care.

When I was young I went with my hair
hiding one eye, thinking myself daring;
off to the movies in my jaunty pencil
skirt and elastic cinch-belt,
chewed gum, left lipstick
imprints the shape of grateful, rubbery
sighs on the cigarettes of men
I hardly knew and didn’t want to.
Men were a skill, you had to have
good hands, breathe into
their nostrils, as for horses. It was something I did well,
like playing the flute, although I don’t.

In the forests of grey stems there are standing pools,
tarn-coloured, choked with brown leaves.
Through them you can see an arm, a shoulder,
when the light is right, with the sky clouded.
The train goes past silos, through meadows,
the winter wheat on the fields like scanty fur.

I still get letters, although not many.
A man writes me, requesting true-life stories
about bad sex. He’s doing an anthology.
He got my name off an old calendar,
the photo that’s mostly bum and daisies,
back when my skin had the golden slick
of fresh-spread margarine.
Not rape, he says, but disappointment,
more like a defeat of expectations.
Dear Sir, I reply, I never had any.
Bad sex, that is.
It was never the sex, it was the other things,
the absence of flowers, the death threats,
the eating habits at breakfast.
I notice I’m using the past tense.

Though the vaporous cloud of chemicals that enveloped
like a glowing eggshell, an incense,
doesn’t disappear: it just gets larger
and takes in more. You grow out
of sex like a shrunk dress
into your common senses, those you share
with whatever’s listening. The way the sun
moves through the hours becomes important,
the smeared raindrops
on the window, buds
on the roadside weeds, the sheen
of spilled oil on a raw ditch
filling with muddy water.

Don’t get me wrong: with the lights out
I’d still take on anyone,
if I had the energy to spare.
But after a while these flesh arpeggios get boring,
like Bach over and over;
too much of one kind of glory.

When I was all body I was lazy.
I had an easy life, and was not grateful.
Now there are more of me.
Don’t confuse me with my hen-leg elbows:
what you get is no longer
what you see.

–from Morning in the Burned House, New Poems

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