Hey Life, 

Yes you over there, you old chum constantly reminding me I'm in my twenties living in NYC with no real clue what the future holds. 

First thanks for that. Second, thanks for sending me to the GYNO this week. 

I’m hoping that most of my audience is female because lord jesus once you hear about the GYNO you may turn female. It’s like you know to much at that point as a man, no men will ever claim you back, you drank the juice, saw to much. Anywhooozel, today I went to the Gyno. It was cool. We went alllll the way… to my cervix! The last time I was felt up and entered with no chance of an orgasm, was the day I lost my virginity. Endless poking and prodding, no means to an end. What was memorable though, was being constantly surprised. If the GYNO were an action movie, I would have thought; well played with that scene, so many twists, great special effects!  Haven't seen the new Bond flick yet, but I think my vagina went this morning. I’m trying to be an adult, and go to the doctors on the recommended time schedule. The old, wait till I’m sick thing isn't really cute anymore, so there you have it, I went, saw, lived and learned.  Peace&Love, Claire

Invitation Only

Throwing it BACK & Getting Excited for NYFWss15

Throwing it way back to an unpublished "Invitation Only" NYFW FW14 Post from Day 2 of fashion week. 

Maternity Leggings Because I Can

Claire Leana Millar Lucky Magazine NYFW Girl Crush

The elastic band of my maternity leggings is digging into my bloated stomach for the first time in my life, I'm not pregnant, but I'm wearing maternity leggings because I’m full, and I can. Its day 1 of fashion week madness, and my plan is in full swing. Today I accomplished two of my goals; one, eating a lot, and confusing the general shit out of people.    

TBD, or not. 

Dear Karlie Kloss I'm Sick Of You're Face

The Style | Humor

Karlie Kloss Supermodel

Dear Karlie Kloss,

I respect that fact that you are one of the most beautiful girls in the world, that you have “limbs that could kick Jesus,” and you even make nice jeans. However, I’m writing to inform you I’m really sick of seeing you’re face, EVERYWHERE. Each month I get a new Vogue hoping to see the newfound talent that they deem worthy of the editorial pages, but it’s always YOU. And I feel you; you’re like a fine wine, gets better with age …but what’s wine without cheese sometimes?  A little variation, you know? You can’t answer that question because it was very clear to me after I saw your nude spread in Vogue Italia, you have probably never tasted cheese. Maybe this is more a profession of my love for you and your discipline; I like cheese, a lot.

You probably don’t remember that time we met. You were strutting through Nolita like the Amazon princess you are; casual, alone, I said “hi” and walked by; it was hugely relevant. What I'm saying Karlie, is I’m a fan of yours, always will be, but right now can you stick to making “Karlie’s Kookies” somewhere dark and pressless, and let someone else get an editorial? That is all, stay tall!

Best Regards,


P.S. If you ever find yourself in a bookstore, please pick up a copy of my memoir titled; “I Put Whip Cream On Someone & They Weren’t Mad.”