Babe Walker’s Guide To Holiday Parties

Here we are again: back at the only time of year where it’s acceptable in some cultures to gorge on pork and dairy products, drink anything other than clear liquor, and generally act like a fat ass under the guise that it’s “The Holiday Season.” Unclear. I have holiday commitments that will require me to make appearances at a record 12 parties this coming weekend. After that, I’ll be on a strict cleanse until my family’s annual trip to Turks and Caicos. Here are the Do’s and Don’ts that I’ll be abiding by to get me through what’s sure to be an intense few days. I suggest you follow suit.

Do: Velvet, mohair, cashmere, leather, lace, fur.

Don’t: Sequins, glitter, satin, or bejeweled anything.

Do: Boobs are back in a huge way. Just know this and dress accordingly.

Don’t: You fucking dare drink eggnog. If you live in LA that shouldn’t be a problem, as I think everyone here is allergic. If you don’t live in LA, I’m sorry, but try to remember that A) The word “eggnog” is sick, and B) Ingesting it is sure to cause early onset of cellulite.

Do: Drink water. Or this. Or vodka. Or gin, if you must. Or silver tequila, or white wine. Or just smoke weed and don’t drink anything.

Do: Book a facial a week for every 5 cocktails you drink over this weekend. Your skin will thank you later.

Do: Make out with someone. With all the mistletoe around, you have no excuse not to, especially if your target guy is a cousin by marriage.

Don’t: Drink and drive. There’s nothing cops love more than busting a wasted person driving their Mercedes the wrong way on a one-way street. One word: Über. It’s the chicest. Plus you won’t risk killing anyone’s holiday vibes with your drunk driving funeral.

Don’t: Fuck the DJ. They’re better off as eye candy. Trust.

Do: Condoms. No matter who you fuck.

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