Dressing Like Total Sluts for Halloween

If you haven't caught on through previous WWCC posts, White Chicks are simply amazing and fantastic creatures. They're the only species on the planet to have artfully mastered the vast complexities of fashion, accessories and putting together the proper outfit for the the proper occasion. Though a lot of their fashion decisions may make very little common sense on paper (ie. scarves in the summer or cowboy boots with a cute sundress) only a truly unique breed of human would be able to carry off such perplexing clothing choices with such adorable aplomb.

From job interviews to casual window shopping to hungover brunches, white chicks have an uncanny way to dress appropriately for all occasions and look amazing for everyone of them. Dressing sensibly for white chicks has far less to do with common sense than it does with the end goal of looking cute. Tacky is the enemy. Trashy is avoided at all costs. And slutty is basically the end of all humanity in the white chick world.

But there is one day of the year when all white chick fashion etiquette goes out the window. A special day (which can be stretched out into an entire week between all the different parties and social events associated with the holiday) in which everything their mothers ever taught them about carrying themselves in a lady-like manner becomes utterly useless and unheeded information.

And that's because White Chicks Cherish Dressing Like Total Sluts on Halloween.

Just as children appreciate Halloween for its unique opportunity to not only accept candy from strangers but to wander public streets begging for it, white chicks' fondness for Halloween is deeply rooted in the opportunity, for maybe just a few hours out of the entire to year, to revel in their inner-slut and display it proudly for the whole world to see. (It's more or less certifiable fact that every white chick on the planet has an inner-slut to varying degrees).

What other holiday allows white chicks to drink excessively while wearing certain clothing (or lack thereof) items in public (like a corset or nipple tassels, for example) that they would never, EVER wear on any other day? What other day allows white chick girlfriends to go shopping for things that would literally kill their grandmothers if that dear, old woman would ever see her granddaughter in such an outfit?

Only Halloween.

I tend to view Halloween in the same light as New Year's Eve. I usually end up having good times on each holiday, but generally think that too much planning, stress and importance is placed on each occasion to have the "Best Night Ever." But I'm also a warm-blooded, single, idiot dude and of course love to see cute white chicks in absurdly revealing clothing.

For those unfamiliar with the phenomenon of White Chicks Dressing Like Total Sluts for Halloween, there are typically three stages of slut-costumery, each one more provocative than the next. They are as follows:

Naughty: This is the fetal stage of Dressing Like a Total Slut for Halloween. Put simply, a Naughty Costume would entail anything a white chick wouldn't wear to work or in front of her grandparents. Clothing items will be exceptionally tight, short, or revealing but still leave something to the imagination of onlookers. Naughty Costumes may provide a chance for white chicks to wear that one top, skirt or pair of shoes they know they look hot in, but still cannot believe they ever bought because said item(s) are just a little "too over the top."

Sexy: Sexy is stage two of Dressing Like a Total Slut for Halloween. Tight and skimpy are the general rules of thumb when picking out a costume. Excessive cleavage, thigh high stockings, and stripper-esque high heels are bonafide requirements. Sexy costumes may make normal activities like walking or sitting next to impossible to do without exposing a peak of underwear. Sexy costumes may also be the first time anyone other than an intimate boyfriend or a BFF discovers a white chick has a tattoo or birthmark in that one area that typically doesn't see much daylight.

Slutty: On any other day a Slutty Costume would get a white chick confused with a full-fledged prostitute and possibly arrested for indecent exposure. The likelihood for a white chick in a Slutty Costume to unknowingly expose a nipple, butt cheek or her "special area" to the public in such an outfit is all but guaranteed to occur. Essentially, the only thing separating a white chick in a Slutty Costume from one of those drunk chicks on the "Girls Gone Wild" videos is the absence a millionaire pervert with a video camera capturing it all on film and then distributing said video through lascivious late-night cable TV advertising.

White chicks, just in case you have yet to solidify your Halloween costume(s) for this year (which is highly unlikely as Halloween costume planning for white chicks typically begins on November 1), WWCC has compiled a list of possible costume ideas.

Simply add the words Naughty, Sexy or Slutty to anything listed below and then consult your giant, cardboard box of Halloween accoutrement to complete the look:

--Cop
--Cheerleader (Bonus points if it's your actual cheerleader outfit from high school)
--Catholic School Girl (call me a single, idiot dude, but this is the BEST. COSTUME. EVER.)
--Angel/Pixie/Fairy
--Football Player
--Pocahontas
--Girl Scout/Brownie (this is sort of wrong in an awesome way)
--Little Bo Peep
--Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz"
--Strawberry Shortcake
--Rainbow Bright
--French Maid
--Harry Potter/Hogwarts outfit
--Vegas Showgirl
--Little Red Ridinghood
--Nun (this is wrong on so many levels)
--Disco Queen
--Snow White
--Hooters Waitress
--Alice in Wonderland
--Sailor Girl
--Eve (as in "Adam and...")
--Business Woman (aka SEXecutive)
--1920's Flapper
--Genie
--50's Diner Waitress
--Roller Girl (I'm not sure why, but roller skates are SO slutty)
--She-Devil
--Cinderella
--Cleopatra
--Cat Woman
--Nurse/Doctor
--Playboy Bunny
--Referee
--Lady Pimp
--Princess Leia (bonus points for an excellent ear-muff hairstyle. Mega-bonus points if it's the Princess Leia skimpy gold bikini outfit a la "Return of the Jedi")
--Marilyn Monroe
--Betty Page
--Belle from "Beauty and the Beast"
--Hot Mobster
--Stewardess
--Greek Goddess/Toga Hooker
--Burlesque Girl
--Lingerie Model
--Race car Girl
--Dominatrix
--Convict
--Bavarian Beer Maid
--Pirate Wench
--Any other Disney Princess not previously mentioned
--Future Robot Hooker
--Daisy Duke
--Victorian-era Hooker
--Geisha Girl
--Firefighter
--Antebellum-era Hooker
--Vampiress
--Smurfette
--Witch
--White Trash Barbie
--Werewolf Hooker (I have never seen this costume, but I think it's a pretty gnarly idea)
--Zombie Hooker
--Belly Dancer
--Regular Hooker
--Wilma or Betty from "The Flintstones" (Betty is WAY hotter)
--Army Girl
--Queen of Hearts
--Baseball Hooker
--Construction Worker
--80's Hair Band Groupie Hooker
--Santa's Elf
--Britney/Christina/Madonna/Katy Perry/Lady GaGa/Cher
--Librarian (runner-up for Best. Costume. EVER.)
--Jem from "Jem and the Holograms" (Truly. Truly. Truly outrageous).
--Raggedy Anne
--Wonder Woman
--Bumble Bee
--BatGirl
--SuperGirl
--Medieval Hooker
--CaveWoman Hooker
--Going with a group of bffs as "Sex and the City" girls
--Mariachi Band Hooker (I just made this up)
--Kitty Cat
--Punky Brewster
--one of the "Mad Men" women (Is there anyone on TV sexier than Joan? No way.)
--Jane from "Tarzan"
--Hippie Hooker
--Betty Boop
--Lara Croft
--Ballerina
--Auto Mechanic
--Viking Hooker
--Barbarella
--one of the "Saved by the Bell" girls (bonus points for the "I'm so excited" version of Jessie Spano all jacked-up on caffeine pills)

Happy Halloween WWCC readers!

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White Chick of the Week: Elizabeth Ingram

WWCC has been honored to spotlight some truly fabulous gals in the White Chick of the Week feature thus far. The last WCOTW features have all been members of SEC universities—showcasing the glory of white chicks that have attended the likes of Universities of South Carolina, Georgia and Florida.

No offense to any of the white chicks who matriculate at those schools, or any other college for that matter, but there is one university that will always hold the top spot in the heart of the single, idiot dude-author of What White Chick's Cherish. Of course, it's a natural to be somewhat biased towards one's alum, but I highly suspect, that if scientific research were done to look into the matter, the findings would show that there is something exceptionally wonderful about white chicks who attend Clemson University.

While our football team seems to constantly hover somewhere between potentially great and slightly better than mediocre season after season, Clemson White Chicks are consistently glorious.

I am of the infallible opinion that Clemson girls are truly THE upper echelon of white chick-dom.

So, it is an esteemed honor to introduce WWCC's latest White Chick of the Week, and proud Clemson White Chick Alum: Elizabeth Ingram

Bio:

Age: 25

College/Major: Clemson University/Communication Studies. (Author's note: Elizabeth referred to Clemson as "The best place on Earth" while "God's Country" is also an acceptable answer).

Current City: Greenville, SC

Hometown: Greer, SC by way of Fort Worth, TX

Occupation: Public Relations

An interesting fact about Elizabeth: I've met Chuck Norris twice and own Seasons 1 and 10 of "Walker, Texas Ranger." (Author's note: Chuck Norris doesn't swear sunglasses. The sun wears Chuckglasses.)

What Elizabeth Cherishes:

Chick-fil-A Combo Meal: Up until recently it was always an 8-count nugget meal with half sweet tea/half lemonade (an "Arnold Palmer") and honey mustard sauce. HOWEVER, since the release of the Spicy Chicken Sandwich, it's now a #3 with mayo and a coke. AMAZINGGG! And now I'm totes craving CFA.
Non-threatening Singer-Songwriter: As is non-threatening to me or the general public? Either way, John Mayer.
Brand of Ridiculously Expensive Blue Jeans: This may come as a shock to my chic white girlfriends, but I actually don't splurge on blue jeans. Until I went to college, I never even owned a pair. I live in dresses and skirts because they're my fave. (Plus, being six feet tall, to say that it's hard to find a pair of jeans that are long enough and fit me just right is an understatement). I save my splurging on other important things like makeup. And shoes. And handbags. And iced coffee.
Boutique Cupcake Flavor: Devil's Food Cake with Butter Cream icing (basically any flavor BUT Red Velvet...gross!)
White Chick Flick: It's a tie between "Sixteen Candles" and "The Princess Bride."
White Chick Lit: "Bergdorf Blondes" by Plum Sykes or "Where the Red Fern Grows" by Wilson Rawls.
Adult Beverage: I don't drink much but when I do I always order a madras.
Item of accoutrement/Accessory: Lots of big jewelry!

WCOTW Q&A

What names do you have picked out for your hypothetical children: Boy: Charles Jackson. Girl: Stella Marie.

What are some things you cherish most as a white chick: The fact that I don't have to work on a farm to wear cowboy boots, crying my way out of speeding tickets, over-dressing for college football games (shout out to the previous and very true WWCC post!), monogramming everything I own, sundresses, big sunglasses, pea coats, Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant movies, ending notes/emails with "XOXOXO" and being able to dance better than white guys.

Turn the tides: discuss something that white guys are particularly fond of that you find comical: Three words: Short Man Syndrome. I think it's hilarious to watch guys who are "Vertically Challenged" try to make up for it by either: 1). Driving a big truck or 2). Working out excessively and wearing tight shirts to show off the fact that they work out excessively. Newsflash, boys—you're not fooling anyone and you're still short.

Tell us something about you that is very un-white chick: I love NASCAR! I got to meet Jimmie Johnson (my favorite driver, #48) last week at a work event and it was pretty much the best day of my life!

Are you a "Twilight" fan despite being a full-grown, mature adult? Why? Duh? But really, I do enjoy the storyline. And I secretly live vicariously through Kristen Stewart's character, even though she is the worst actress ever. Oh, and go Team Jacob!

Are you a fantastic white chick? Or do you know one? Drop me an email at mark.pantsari@gmail.com and nominate yourself or a pal to be WCOTW!

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"The Bachelor/Bachelorette"

White chicks aren't all that different from the rest of the American television viewing audience in that nearly every person in this splendid country of ours seems to have at least a small handful of guilty-pleasure reality shows they MUST watch.

Reality TV is inarguably the turd in our proverbial cultural punchbowl, yet we just cannot get enough of it. Although some reality shows involve an original concept and genuine premise (shows like "The Amazing Race," "Top Chef" or others of similar ilk) others exist solely for unnecessary train wreck-esque drama (I'm looking in your direction "Real Housewives of insert location here") that viewers simply can't turn away from.

Make no mistake, I'm in position to judge. I've let my brain turn into custard through several "What Not to Wear" marathons (it used to be my guilty-pleasure reality show back before my miraculous free cable vanished) and used to follow "Top Chef" and a few others fairly religiously.

But there's one reality show that's nearly universally loved by all white chicks. A show that combines something of an original premise AND tons of train wreck-esque drama: White Chicks Cherish "The Bachelor/Bachelorette."

The show is based around a single bachelor/bachelorette and a houseful of 25 possible suitors. Through a series of lavish group and single dates, the potential suitors are knocked off one by one through the overly dramatic "Rose Ceremony," in which the eligible bachelor/bachelorette makes their pick of possible love connections by presenting them with a single red rose. The cast-offs usually fade into obscurity or go onto to appear on "Dancing with the Stars" or possibly "TMZ" for less than savory public behavior. The survivors of the "Rose Ceremony" are eventually wittled down to one--the "perfect" match for the eligible bachelor/bachelorette and from there it is generally understood that the two will become engaged.

In theory, "The Bachelor" seems like a perfectly plausible reality show and certainly part of its white chick appeal is the quest for true love—something nearly everyone on the planet wants for themselves. Combine that yearning, romantic quest for true love with a houseful of catty women, boatloads of booze and a hot tub and therein lies the recipe for the train wreck-eqsue drama that inevitably appeals to the white chick viewers of "The Bachelor."

Please take this post with a grain of salt, as I've only viewed a handful of episodes of the show way back in the day (Bob Guiney was "The Bachelor" that season and easily one of the biggest cheese-ball dildos that has ever been on TV), so a lot of this post is coming from pure generalization. But I'd bet what little money I have that most of it is spot on.

The cast of "The Bachelor" generally looks a little something like this:

The Bachelor: Usually an impossibly good looking guy who is also heir to a family fortune/a doctor/an actor/fighter pilot/successful entrepreneur. Generally, he's charming, handsome, wealthy, chiseled out of marble, saves kittens from burning buildings and reads to the elderly in his spare time. The perfect dude.

The Super-Serious Host: This guy is mainly in charge of milking every last drop of drama out of the "Rose Ceremony" and tends to make Captain Obvious observations like "Well, Bachelor, you only have two roses left and three women, that means someone is going home tonight."

The Hot Girl that is Super Hot and Knows it, this Making Her a Gigantic Bitch: There's always an uber-attractive, uber-confident woman in the house vying for the affection of The Bachelor. White chicks love to hate her, and for unexplainable reasons, (there's no way he could he could be happy with her!!!) she manages to survive through most of the show.

The Super Skanky Slut: There's always a fun-loving, heavy drinking chick with little to no moral code. She's usually the first one to make out with The Bachelor in the hot tub and the first to likely put out behind closed doors, thus drawing the ire of every female contestant in the house and the possible hatred of white chick viewers. Since The Bachelor spends a lot of time drunk and horny in hot tubs, the Super Skanky Slut usually sticks around for quite some time on the show despite the fact that there's no way he could be happy with her.

The Token Hot Asian Chick and/or Hot Black Chick: Despite extreme good looks and usually more intelligence and personality than most of the women in the house, the token hot minority women never last all that long on the show.

The Bat-Shit Crazy Girl: There's usually at least one girl per season on "The Bachelor" that is just as sexy as she is insane. She likely left an apartment full of unopened medications and cats behind to appear on the show and nonetheless provides for several "OMG I can't believe that just happened" moments). For some reason, The Bachelor is powerless against her tractor-beam of insanity and she nearly makes it to the end of the show.

The Hot Twins: Every straight male on the planet has at least one sexual fantasy involving gorgeous identical twins, which is why The Hot Twins pass a few cuts on "The Bachelor." In most cases, incestual reality winds up overriding sexual fantasy, and The Hot Twins end up getting cut. Plus, there is no way The Bachelor can choose just one of the twins.

The Girl Next Door that White Chicks SO Identify With: There's always the girl next door who seems perfectly sweet, nice and normal. She's definitely wife material and The Bachelor knows this. And on rare occassions she can slut it up in the hot tub with the best of them.

The Crier:Of course there's an overly sensitive drama queen who cries at nearly everything. Since men generally have no idea how to handle a crying girl situation, The Crier usually benefits from a few sympathy one-on-one dates and most women in the house usually hate her for this.

The Cougar: There's also normally one gorgeous woman who doesn't look much older than the rest of the contestants, but after a heartfelt one-on-one date it is discovered she's in her 40's and has, like, 7 children. And she usually doesn't survive long after this information leaks.

I'm sure I'm leaving a few out, but you get the general idea. Twenty-five fairly different women all trying to win the heart of one perfect man. They get drunk, go on absurdly exensive dates and all sorts of drama ensue.

In theory, "The Bachelor" is supposed to lead to an engagement and eventual marriage, but the track record of the show has proven "The Bachelor" is far more capable of producing the train wreck-esque relationship drama that white chicks cannot get enough of (it's true, white chicks love relationship drama, as long as it's not theirs!). According to Wikipedia, in the show's 15 seasons, "The Bachelor" has produced only one successful married couple—Trista and Ryan. Some shows inexplicably end with no engagement while others fizzle out in the following months—some in dramatic ways made for tabloid shows like "Extra" and TMZ" (these shows have a way of sucking you in despite the fact you can actually feel your brain cells dying while watching them).

Seven percent. That's "The Bachelor's" marriage-success rate according to my math skills and some generous rounding-up. Really? A show that is supposed to specialize in finding true love for people is only successful 7% of the time?! You mean the best way to find true love isn't to take turns making out with 25 different women while getting shit-faced hammered in a hot tub?

Shocking.

But my true gripe with "The Bachelor" isn't its paltry batting average. I have a much deeper reason to truly loathe this program. "The Bachelor" has made it wholly impossible to impress any girl that has ever viewed the show on a date.

I'm sorry, white chicks, but I'm not a chiseled-out-of-marble, insanely wealthy, heir to a family fortune, former college athlete turned fighter pilot/doctor/veterinarian/lawyer who reads to the elderly in his free time and spends one month every summer building schools and clean water wells for impoverished Third World children. I'm just a single, idiot dude trying to get by. And the only time I've flown in a helicopter was when I was horribly injured while snow skiing and had to be airlifted to a hospital.

Also, I don't have one of the world's largest broadcasting companies footing the bill for my dates (or painful current lack thereof). So unfortunately, I'm unable to rent out all of Disney World for the day and won't be able to make out with you in Cinderella's castle. I don't have the means to whisk you away on a catered yacht to a privately owned island where we'll ride horses in the surf and be waited on hand and foot by native butlers in the world's only five-star hotel built entirely out of bamboo and diamonds.

I was just thinking maybe we could go for beers and bar trivia, where the highlight of the night will be trying to come up with some vaguely offensive, double entendre name for our team that will make the whole bar laugh when the trivia host-guy announces the team point totals after each round.

Or maybe we can go to Chili's and get to know one another over some Southwestern Egg Rolls.

Either way, it would really help me out if we could split the check.


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Gigantic Handbags

One of my greatest accomplishments ever as a boyfriend was buying a Michael Kors handbag (similar to the one pictured) for then-girlfriend. And I did it all by myself.

The handbag department at Bloomingdale's is a horrifically intimidating place to be for an idiot male. The uppity sales clerks were of no help and more or less gave me the stink eye as I spent an interminably long evening there during the Holiday season a few years ago checking out various purses with equal parts uncertainty and sticker-shock (the retail price of most designer bags is greater than or equal to the Gross Domestic Product of most Third World nations).

I say I did it all by myself (and of course, I took all the credit and subsequent glory for the purchase), but I had assistance. A friend of then-girlfriend spent a good 20 minutes on the phone with me as I wandered the handbag department of Bloomingdale's like a kid lost in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. (Author's note: I used to always get separated from my mother in the grocery store staring in bewilderment at all the glorious kid's cereals. And to this day the cereal aisle is one of my favorite places on Earth.)

I approached each bag that caught my eye, gave her a brief, idiot-male description and listened intently to her feedback and advice. After spending way too much time in indecisive-handbag-purgatory, I made my pick, mustered my courage and credit and made the purchase. I filled the Michael Kors bag with various sundries and presented it to then-girlfriend during our Christmas gift exchange. And it went over like birthday cake—she loved it. And even nicknamed it "Bag."

I tell this story not to espouse upon on my thoughtfulness, apparent good taste and gift-giving prowess, but to introduce this already too-long WWCC post: White Chicks Cherish Gigantic Handbags.

Why so expensive? Why so damn-gigantic? Unless said-white chick is a kleptomaniac, surely there cannot be good reason for a cute girl to carry around such a big-ass purse...or is there?

After conducting a social media survey to determine the contents of a white chick's cherished Gigantic Handbag, I reached the conclusion that it takes an awful lot of equipment to be a fantastic white chick. And a fantastic white chick MUST be well-prepared to take on any and all circumstances and do so with adorable aplomb.

The contents of a white chick's Gigantic Handbag may include, but are certainly not limited to, any of the following items:

--Monogrammed/Vera Bradley/Lilly Pulitzer wallet
--Monogrammed/Vera Bradley/Lilly Pulitzer case for over-sized sunglasses
--Gum
--Various Receipts (possibly for a Pumpkin Spice Latte?)
--Lady Products
--Lipstick
--Lip gloss
--Lip stain (I have no idea what the hell this is or how it differs from lipstick or lip gloss)
--Tissues
--5-7 to ponytail rubber bands/hair clips
--3-5 pens (any of which may or not work at all)
--Cell Phone
--Cell Phone Charger
--Checkbook
--Monogrammed/Vera Bradley/Lilly Pulitzer Note Pad
--Compact
--iPod
--Horribly Tangled iPod Headphones
--Earrings
--Ticket Stubs to that concert by her favorite Non-threatening Singer-Songwriter
--Chapstick (anywhere from 2-4 different flavors)/the little jar of Carmex
--tiny bottle of Purel
--Digital Camera
--Business Cards (does it ever get not-cool to lay your business card on someone? I doubt it.)
--Contact Lens Solution
--Eye Drops
--Mascara
--Band-Aids
--Mini Umbrella
--Various Pills (which can include Tylenol, Aleve, Advil, Midol, birth control pills, daily vitamins or possibly a few random Adderall or Xanax)
--Water Bottle
--Breath Mints
--Ridiculously Clunky Key chain
--Mini-flashlight
--Cute, miniature bottle of Mace/Pepper Spray
--Day Planner
--Flip-flops...just in case
--Beer can koozie
--Eyeglass repair kit
--Reading Glasses
--Back-up sunglasses
--Hair Brush
--Random gift card with no idea how much is left on it
--Nutri-Grain bar
--a book (perhaps "Eat Pray Love" or "The Kite Runner")
--or magazine (ie. the latest edition of "Real Simple")
--Empty gum wrappers
--a random beer bottle cap
--change purse
--Cough Drops
--Random change that is covered in something (wtf is that substance?)
--small pack of wet-naps/Charmin-to-Go
--that necklace they are so sad that broke
--spare summer scarf
--AND room to spare for anything that happens to catch a white chick's eye throughout the day that she simply cannot live without


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The Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte

There may be no other season as widely celebrated, favored or cherished by white chicks than fall. WWCC has previously discussed the glorious possibilities for white chicks to indulge in over-dressing for college football games during autumn, but that's just the tip of the iceberg-sized white chick wonder this season entails.

As the temperatures begin to dip and the winds become blustery, scarves gain actual credibility as a necessary fashionable accoutrement (not that something like appropriate weather has ever stopped a white chick from wearing a scarf whenever she wants to look fab). On certain days white chicks can still get away with wearing their coveted flip-flops or peep-toe pumps, though fall is really all about breaking out the bevy of boots white chicks have been foaming at the mouth all summer long to have the opportunity to wear once again. And with winter approaching, it makes perfect sense to go ahead and begin shopping for that oh-so-perfect belted pea coat that will undoubtedly be the crux of a white chick's winter wardrobe and the envied-conversation starter amongst her girlfriends.

And one of the greatest white chick pleasures of fall comes in the form of an overpriced, seasonal blend of coffee, because White Chicks Cherish the Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte.

It's perfectly natural and expected for every human being in the universe to have a favorite Starbucks beverage (I do enjoy a White Chocolate Mocha when I'm in the mood to overspend on coffee), but the Pumpkin Spice Latte is more than just a favorite. It's the official fall beverage of white chicks—they simply cannot get enough of this piping hot, frothy coffee drink.

Call me a single, idiot dude and you'd be correct...but I don't like pumpkin-flavored anything. Not pie, not beer and definitely not coffee (I'm of the world's minority in that I generally want my coffee to be simply coffee-flavored). I sort of look at pumpkin-flavored stuff the way I look at a dessert like carrot cake. Although I somewhat respect and acknowledge its existence and have enjoyed a bite or two along the way, carrots are vegetables. Vegetables and dessert are separate food groups in my opinion and should never, ever mingle.

But I have a much harsher opinion on pumpkin. I simply don't like the way it tastes and pretty much believe a pumpkin and its contents is nothing more than an organic, self-contained unit of vomit and seeds. Pumpkins are meant for carving for Halloween (and arrogantly smashing on front-door steps and mailboxes if your middle- and high school days were anything like mine).

White chicks certainly don't feel this way, however—they love the Pumpkin Spice Latte and cannot get enough of it. The love of pumpkin flavor during the fall season even extends into pumpkin-flavored beers and cupcakes. And on a vegetables-that-are-somewhat-related sidenote, fall is also the time of year when butter nut squash begins to make its way into restaurant specials. And white girls also cherish butter nut squash in everything from soups to raviolis to lasagna.

And not to take away from the sheer deliciousness that is the Pumpkin Spice Latte—that piping hot, frothy $5 cup of pure, unbridled joy. But I'll pose an uneducated hypothesis that white girls simply cherish seasonal flavors. After all, it's romantic for an utterly desirable object to not just be readily available at your convenience, it makes you want it more. There's something alluring and exciting—dare I say sexy—about an object when it's only available for a limited time. It's what makes Girl Scout Cookies so incredibly fucking delicious and why anyone in their right mind has ever eaten the uber-gross McRib from McDonalds. If it's not around all the time, it's just a little more special and, therefore, must be worth trying. Right?

There's something hardwired into us as humans that makes us crave things we cannot easily obtain. And I believe that's part of the white chick-appeal of seasonal flavors, especially the Pumpkin Spice Latte. As wonderful as the Pumpkin Spice Latte may be, when it's not here the beverage is another OMG-wonderful thing white chicks can yearn for...and I've expressed my beliefs before about how white chicks love to yearn.

Seasonal flavors and the Pumpkin Spice Latte do indeed create a sense of yearning in white chicks. It takes patience and devotion to cherish something non-permanent and somewhat elusive, but when they are present—for that brief, fleeting moment in time—everything is perfect. And then they're gone...leaving only fantastic memories and a longing desire for the next encounter.

Sure, this closing is random, but isn't that what "The Time Traveller's Wife" is all about?


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White Chick of the Week: Amanda Strickland

Happy Thursday dearest WWCC readers! Welcome to the latest WCOTW feature.

I've known this white chick ever since 5th grade when she checked the "yes" box in a note I wrote her asking if she would "Go with me." And although we never really went anywhere together and our passionate elementary school romance wouldn't see the akward lights of middle school, she's nontheless always been a fantastic gal.

Along with setting the bar extremely high for any future relationships with white chicks throughout my lifetime, it's been a sincere pleasure to be able to call her friend for roughly 20 years. She's everything a fabulous white chick should be—cute, sassy, genuine, sweet and funny as all get out. Plus, based on her provided photo she's exquisitely skilled in the art of overdressing for college football games.

Though it's something of an inside joke between us that will never die, I once saw her walk full speed into a sliding glass door with more grace and panache than the Queen of England could ever muster on her most spectacular days a monarch.

AND...she's named me as her back-up hubby in case we're both single when we turn 40. So I got that going for me, which is nice.

Please give a warm welcome to WWCC's newest WCTOW: Amanda Strickland.

Bio:

Age: Not known (12 on some days and 60 on others). Depends on the day.

College/Major: University of South Carolina College of Journalism and Mass Communications/Public Relations

Occupation: Development Coordinator/Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation

Hometown: Space

A quick, interesting fact about Amanda: What is not interesting about me? I mean really?!? That is why I am WCOTW.

The Things Amanda Cherishes Most:

Chick-fil-A Combo Meal: 8-piece nuggets with every sauce. Yes, each and every sauce they have...not kidding.
Non-threatening Singer-Songwriter: Ben Bridwell (Author's note: Band of Horses front man Ben Bridwell went to our beloved Irmo High School in Columbia, SC...in your high school's face!)
Brand of Ridiculously Expensive Blue Jeans: Seven
Boutique Cupcake Flavor: German Chocolate or Red Velvet (very much a toss up)
White Chick Flick: "The Cutting Edge" or "The Notebook"
Adult Beverage of Choice: Wine and vodka...but not mixed together. Obvs.

WCOTW Q&A

What are some things you cherish most as a white chick? Oh, there are just too many to count. But my top three things that I cherish as a white chick are:

Sunglasses—big sunglasses. You can never have too many pairs and you know you've had a good ride with a pair when the lens cracks and falls out because you have: A). Thrown them in your purse too many times or B). They have fallen off your head so many times and are stretched out...which leads to my second thing...

Big Ass Purses—I have a huge mustard yellow Jimmy Choo at the moment that I love love love.

And what would you wear big sunglasses to and carry big ass purses to? That's right, the third thing I cherish most as a white chick—Bachelorette Parties. They are the best nights out and I really think that after people get married they should just have random Bachelorette Parties each month per fellow white chick friend.

If you could appear on any reality TV show which one would you choose and why? I would be on "Big Brother" and I would WIN! That show is like the most fascinating sociology experiment I have ever witnessed. But in all reality, I was just having a convo with my gf's that we surely would be the most entertaining reality show ever and make the most money—a day in the life of funny ass white chicks. I see a spin-off show of this blog on the horizon! (Another author's note: I would definitely be willing to discuss selling the WWCC TV rights to the highest bidder).

Your wildest dreams come true: You become world famous and have a chance to appear on Oprah, Ellen, or Live with Regis & Kelley...but only one. What did you to become famous and which talk show would you choose? Well, obviously I am famous because I won half a million dollars on "Big Brother" and I would be appearing on "Live with Regis and Kelly." I think Regis is the funniest white guy on a talk show to date. And Kelly could definitely be one of my friends. The two of them together are a delight. Oh...however, I would totally love it if Anderson Cooper were filling in for Regis the day I was on the show—he is the hottest person on CNN.

What names do you have picked out for your hypothetical children? Ok—the first one is for my girl: Addison Stokes (insert future baby daddy last name here). And the next one is from that new owl movie I went to see this past weekend—yes, I borrow my friend's children to do kid stuff! It was in 3D and it was super cool. And the little boy owl's name was Sutton—so that would be my little boy's name.


Want to be the next WCTOW or nominate a friend? Send me an email at mark.pantsari@gmail.com

As always, come say hi on Facebook or Twitter!

Justin Timberlake

I'm not proud to admit this, but there was a time in my life when I wanted irreparable physical harm to come to Justin Timberlake. At the time I was lowly-paid freelance writer covering music in Charleston, SC and easily at the peak of my self-imposed music snobbery. If a band wasn't the type of act to play Bonnaroo I wanted nothing to do with them. Boy bands were the enemy and Justin Timberlake represented everything I loathed about popular music.

Granted, I still am a music snob and still genuinely despise most forms of pop music, but I consider myself a well-wisher to Mr. Timberlake in that I no longer wish him any specific harm. Chalk it up to maturity (though I am still woefully immature for my age) but I have seen the light: and I now know why White Chicks Cherish Justin Timberlake.

There's several good reasons why Justin Timberlake has continued to thrive in the years after the horrifically formulaic clap-trap boy band era. Seriously, JT may be the only boy band member of that musically loathsome period who still has a relevant career—and I'm not talking about staying popular through appearances on shows like "Dancing with the Stars" (which white chicks also cherish and most self-respecting heterosexual men hate but likely watch to appease a fantastic white chick) or making brief blips on the pop culture radar for coming out of the closet and striving to be a gay astronaut. (On a side note, have any of the token boy band members with super-stupid facial hair designs had anything resembling a career after the demise of their singing groups?) Justin Timberlake is a masterful talent, insanely charismatic, has a great sense of humor and, I'm comfortable enough with my sexuality to say, he's a damn good looking guy.

Even though I may not be a fan of JT's music, the dude's won enough Grammy Awards, has had enough hits and has collaborated with everyone from 50 Cent to Madonna to Duran Duran that even my own personal music snobbery is not enough to prohibit me from recognizing his accomplishments. The dude makes white chicks dance and that—in and of itself—is enough to stay popular for eons.

Sure, be brought sexy back and enlightened the world on the weird nipple-accoutrement of Janet Jackson, but there's other reasons why I've come to view Justin Timberlake's existence on this planet as a splendid thing. He showed humility by being "Punk'D," a terrific sense of humor through hosting "SNL" ("Dick in a Box" is easily the funniest thing the show has produced since "Wayne's World") and proved to be a genuine, likable dude on his recent interview on "The Daily Show" (I also have a huge non-gay man crush on John Stewart, but that's an entirely different blog idea). And I've yet to see it, but I hear JT is terrific in his role in "The Social Network."

(I totally forgot to post this in the original draft and cannot believe I did. But JT's "History of Rap" performance with Jimmy Fallon was nothing short of super awesome and a HUGE reason I decided to do a WWCC post about Justin Timberlake. His impressions of the Beastie Boys, Snoop Dogg and everyone else was just so spot-on).



Justin Timberlake is pure, undeniable talent and only a complete troglodyte would say otherwise. And you don't have to be a white chick to appreciate him, but it sure does help. Maybe all the time I've spent delving into the behaviors of white chicks is beginning to influence my own tastes (I have been yearning for more boutique cupcakes ever since that fateful day "researching" them) or maybe I'm just somewhat maturing.

But I've come to an important relization: Life is too short to spend any time or energy to carry anything resembling a negative opinion of someone as masterfully talented and insanely likable as Justin Timberlake.

Especially when there are hordes of skanky talent-voids like Ke$ha or mouth-breathing, record industry puppets like Justin Bieber out there wasting perfectly good oxygen. Clearly, they are much more deserving of one's ill-will and negativity.

Come say hi on Facebook or Twitter.

White Chick of the Week: Leslie Herrel

Happy Sunday, dearest WWCC readers, and welcome to the second installment of White Chick of the Week (WCTOW).

Although our newest WCTOW took her sweet time doing her WCOTW homework, she has proven that certain things are indeed well-worth waiting for.

She been a supporter of WWCC since day one and has since become one of the few, proud members of the unofficial WWCC Brain Trust. She's played an immeasurable role in helping me come up with subject matter to cover and has been awesome in helping to spread the blog throughout the Internets. Plus, thanks to her obsession with her Blackberry, she is almost always reachable through G-chat to help answer any and all of my stupid questions about the behavior of white chicks whenever they should arise...which is fairly often. She is hilarious, incredibly witty, well-steeped in sass and everyone that knows her should express their endless gratitude that white chicks like her grace this wonderful universe.

So it is one of the greatest pleasures of my life to introduce WWCC's White of the Week: Leslie Herrel.

Bio:

Name: Leslie "I sleep with my Blackberry" Herrel (although if anyone wants to give me an iPhone I promise to night cuddle with it, too).

Age: I think I am going to start saying I'm 25. So, can we all just collectively pretend that we believe me? Thanks in advance.

College: Here's a hint, I wore black dresses, red necklaces and heels to football games (with a pair of flip flops in my purse, obvs).

College Major: Psychology (read: I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life).

Occupation: Sales (read: I still have no idea what I'm doing with my life).

Hometown: Hotlanta, GA. God, no I'm kidding. It makes me physically ill when people say "Hotlanta." Anyway, I'm really from Marietta but I'll be specific and say East Cobb because it sounds white girlier.

A quick, interesting fact about Leslie: I once had a quote published in one of those "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books. Google me.

What this White Chick Cherishes Most:

Chick-fil-A combo: Grilled chicken sandwich with extra pickles...mmmm. Either a Coke Zero or a Diet Lemonade to drink.
Non-threatening Singer-songwriter: Ryan Adams
Brand of Ridiculously Expensive Blue Jeans: Joe's Jeans or Sevens.
Boutique Cupcake Flavor: I don't know. I mean, I guess I sort like them all. I celebrate the entire catalogue.
White Chick Flick: "Overboard"
Preferred Form of White Chick Accoutrement: Scarves. No, boots. Wait, are boots accessories? Hmmm...scarves.
Adult Beverage of Choice: wine.

WCOTW Q&A:

When did you first realize you were a white chick? I shall never forget my maiden voyage to this blog, this collection of brilliance insightfully named "What White Chicks Cherish." Before I discovered this, my own personal mecca, I was just a little girl lost, feeling so alone and displaced in this large, unfriendly world. I scrolled through entry after entry, tears streaming down my face, clutching my Samsung netbook like a newborn child. I DO love that Journey song! And Cupcakes!!?!?! And, oh God, Chick-fil-A?....There ARE people like me out there. Streaming tears turned into full on sobs, peppered with soulful laughs. I hugged my cat just a little tighter. It was then that I realized who I am. I AM A WHITE CHICK.

If you could appear on any reality TV show which one would you choose and why? I was on "TRL" once in high school during the Carson Daly days, is there any possible way to top that? I thought not. (Shit, I just dated myself, didn't I? How am I supposed to pass for 25 now? Do any of you dear white girl readers even remember "TRL"??) Ok, I change my answer to "Singled Out" with Jenny McCarthy and Chris Hardwick. Damnit, I did it again.

Has there been a WWCC post you disagree with? Please discuss. Which one do you disagree with? Yes, you, the one reading this. Cute shirt, by the way. So wait, which one? OMG, me too! Who does this Mark Pantsari guy think he is? I don't even LIKE that one thing he said. You're so right. We're totally clicking now, aren't we?? And what kind of name is Pantsari, anyway?

Tell WWCC something about you that is very un-white chick? I really love beef jerky.


Do you or someone you know want to be the next White Chick of the Week? WWCC needs volunteers, so drop me a line at mark.pantsari@gmail and we'll make it happen.

Please help share the blog through Facebook and Twitter.



(Pantsari has Finnish origins, by the way)

"The Notebook"

"Behind every great love is a great story" says the tag line of the Nicholas Sparks' novel-turned-movie "The Noteook." And nothing makes for a better love story—the kind that can make a white chick laugh, cry and yearn for a similar tale of her own—than one that combines star-crossed lovers whose love survives war, over-bearing parents and vastly different socio-economic demographics. Throw in the patented Nicholas Sparks formula of all the fantastic love story stuff mentioned above happening in the face of debilitating, heart-breaking terminal illness and it's no wonder why White Chicks Cherish "The Notebook."

Assuredly, every white chick on the planet has seen this movie (bonus WC points if they read the book before the movie rights were optioned), so there's not much point in summarizing "The Notebook," but WWCC does have to touch on some specific plot points of the movie in the interests of proving its extremely high white chick quotient.

"The Notebook" is a favored movie of white chicks because it contains all of the following plot points of a fantastic chick flick:

--The gorgeous hunk of a man from the wrong side of the tracks. Noah is decidedly blue collar; he works in a lumber yard, heads off to war and dedicates a portion of his life to restoring the abandoned (despite its impeccable waterfront lot), ramshackle house he promises to buy for Allie during one of their early nights together (though at the time it seemed like an overly romantic ploy to get into her panties). But he's really the type of guy who would write a love letter every day of the year to a girl he is still pining for post-break up.

Noah is the total package--handsome, devoted and a great guy. But also the type of guy who isn't afraid to call out a cute white chick by saying "Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing." (White chicks love to be challenged).

--The adorable and sexy free-spirited white chick. Allie is beautiful on the inside and out (doesn't every white chick want to be this way?). She's a talented painter, wants to be happy and has a hard time wrestling with the fact that no matter which guy she chooses to love, someone will be crushed. Allie loves with all her heart and I'm sure white chicks can relate when she says "When I'm with Noah I feel like one person and when I'm with you I feel like someone totally different."

--The meddling mother. Allie's mother of course thinks Noah is "trash." And she'll be damned if she's going to let her precious daughter fall in love with the wrong type of boy. She's the type of mother that will intercept and horde 365 love letters written by a gorgeous hunk of a man from the wrong side of the tracks.

--War. Any great love story movie has some sort of war in it. Noah ships off to World War II while Allie goes off to college. She later volunteers as a nurses aid where she meets Lon and nurses him back to health.

--The guy who is perfect on paper. Lon is a lawyer and comes from a wealthy Southern family. He's handsome, a perfect gentleman (and don't forget rich and lawyer). So it's no wonder why Allie falls for him and accepts his marriage proposal.

--The chance encounter of star-crossed lovers. Noah happens to spot Allie and Lon together upon returning home from the War. Dejected, he begins restoring the ramshackle (albeit oddly located on a gorgeous waterfront lot) mansion with his bare hands and rippling abs. Allie happens to see a newspaper article about Noah restoring the house from their first hook up and pays him a visit.

--The uber-romantic kiss in the rain. After a boat ride Noah and Allie rekindle their romance with a textbook smooch in the rain. Despite being engaged in holy matrimony to another man, she holes up in Noah's restored, pristine waterfront mansion where they spend days together falling back in love and bumping uglies.

--The meddling mother who has a change of heart. Allie's mother visits the mansion to tell her daughter that Lon is wondering where his fiance is, takes her daughter on a drive to conveniently show her the blue collar man she once bumped uglies with and presents Allie with 365 love letters. Yet another testament to the unyielding passion of Noah. Really?!? She wouldn't have just burned these letters from a guy she once called "trash"?

--The guy who is perfect on paper and also says the perfect things. When confronted with the fact that his fiance has been whoring it up in a waterfront mansion restored by a blue collar hunk, Lon says "The way I see it, I got three choices. One, I can shoot him. Two, I can kick the crap out of him. Or three, I leave you. Well, all that's no good. You see, 'cause none of those options get me you." (MEGA-SIGH...how can you not love a guy who would say things like this?)

--Flashes from the future that tie the movie together. During the length of the film, "The Notebook" also shows scenes from an old folks home where a sweet, funny old man reads to a clueless Alzheimer's-stricken woman from a "notebook." The viewer learns over the course of the sappy yet beautiful, romantic movie that the "notebook" is a journal kept by Allie of the tumultuous love story between her and Noah. The sweet, old man of course is Noah and his unending love for Allie is further concretely proven by his dedication to read to her from this book. Despite being in relatively perfect health, sweet, old Noah essentially lives in the old folks home to be near Allie. On occasion, Allie magically has moments of clarity—she "comes back" to Noah, and OMG is it beautiful.

--Sweetest. (Albeit highly improbable). Ending. Ever. "The Notebook" ends with sweet, old man Noah finishing reading the "notebook" love story to Alzheimer's-stricken Allie. She "comes back to him" one last time and asks "Do you think our love, can take us away together?"

To which sweet, old man Noah replies "I think our love can do anything we want it to."

The film ends with sweet, old man Noah and Alzheimers-stricken Allie climbing in bed together, joining hands and....wait for it....DYING TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME. OMG it's beautiful, how could you not cry?

Say what you will about the Nicholas Sparks' formulaic novel-turned-movie arsenal ("A Walk to Remember," "The Last Song," "Dear John") but the guy likely goes to bed every night on top of obscenely large piles of money.

But it's certifiable fact that if you can make white chicks cry over a good love story, there is nothing standing in the way of your unbridled success. The same can be said for the ability to make white chicks dance.

And I can only hope the same holds true for making white chicks laugh.


Come say hi on Facebook or Twitter!

White Chick of the Week: Julie Benz

Happy Friday WWCC readers!

I have to say a mega-Thank You to all, as WWCC has had back to back days this week with over 1,100 visits. Insane!

And welcome to a brand new feature of the blog, as WWCC tries to give back to the fabulous white chicks that have selflessly given us all so much. Once a week, we'll be spotlighting a reader with a brief bio and Q&A session called White Chick of the Week.

So without further ado, meet WWCC's inaugural White Chick of the Week (WCOTW): Julie Benz.

I met Julie about two years ago through a mutual friend here in Atlanta and I knew instantly she was a tip-top white chick. She's hilariously witty and sublimely sassy. Julie regrettably just moved to California and is sorely missed here in the ATL, but she's been a huge WWCC advocate since day one—she helped me come up with the name of the blog, she's vetted ideas for blog topics and she escorted me to assist in research for the Boutique Cupcake post. She's also a fantastically snarky writer in her own right. And you can read about her trials, tribulations and triumphant victories (Julie wins shit) over her least favorite food group in her awesome blog: Julie Versus Vegetables.

(Julie is the blond in the photo by the way).

Bio:

Name: Julie "Dime Store Bag of Hooker" Benz

Age: Still young enough to live fast, die young and leave a pretty corpse.

College: The fancy liberal arts kind that made me the cheeky bullshitter my parents are so proud of.

College Major: Cheeky bullshitting.

Occupation: Cheeky bullshit.

Hometown: The woods.

A quick interesting fact about Julie: Everything about me is interesting.

The Things Julie Cherishes Most:

Chick-fil-A Combo Meal: #1 with a sweet tea (in the a.m. and p.m.)
Non-threatening Singer-songwriter: Jeff Tweedy from Wilco
Brand of Ridiculously Expensive Blue Jeans: Seven
Boutique Cupcake Flavor: Red Velvet
White chick-flick: "Girls Just Want to Have Fun"
Adult beverage of choice: Jagermeister

WCOTW Q&A:

When did you first realize you were a white chick? I first realized I was a white chick when my drawer-full of ratty old Umbros magically replaced itself with an impressive collection of gym short lookalikes with words on the ass promoting sports teams I don't care about and schools I didn't go to. However, I feel sure I looked hot all those times I pretended to work out in them. The one time, I mean.

If you could appear on any reality TV show which one would you choose and why? "16 and Pregnant." Ha! Just kidding. For real though, "19 Kids and Counting." Have you seen that show? They have like 10 front loading washing machines. If there is one thing I love it's a front loading washing machine. And they have 10 of them. Or "Celebrity Rehab." I think I have what it takes to get kicked off that island.

Has there been a WWCC post you disagree with? Please discuss. Um, some of us who work in PR were actually born to crack wise but have not been able to make a living at cheeky bullshit (because of that part where we really haven't tried) and are instead forced to pay the bills by going to to a dizzying array of "networking" events where they serve rubbery chicken and free booze. It's a very hard life.

Tell WWCC something about you that is very un-white chick: I peed in my best friend's back yard last week. Twice.


Do you or someone you know want to be the next White Chick of the Week? WWCC needs volunteers to help keep WCTOW going. So drop me a line at mark.pantsari@gmail.com and we'll make it happen.

And as always follow WWCC on Facebook and Twitter.