My mom, in addition to hand making my baby food and all of our Halloween costumes, has sewn a stocking for nearly every member of the family. (And you wonder where I get my DIY side from?). The first thing we do every Christmas is to dump out our stockings

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be in the spotlight.  The shiny hair, the outfits, the fake laughing while delicately holding a champagne flute… all these things spoke to me.  Unfortunately, I was born more of a Judy Greer than a Judy Garland.  What I

Sitting cozy on the Upper West Side, on Amsterdam Avenue, between 79th & 80th street, you’ll find a pretty well known haven for the broke-ass movement. Imagine a bar with bras hanging on the walls and  cheap drinks. Imagine a place that once offered 50 cent beers. Welcome to Bourbon

  Spending Christmas alone is nothing to be ashamed of. Flights are expensive, maybe you don’t have the money to fly to see your family. Maybe you hate your family. Perhaps you are Jewish. Don’t let other people feel sorry for you- Christmas by yourself is awesome. If you find

I know you’ve heard a lot about my most recent book Young, Broke and Beautiful: Broke-Ass Stuart’s Guide to Living Cheaply. But maybe there are a few of you who (gasp!) haven’t gotten a copy yet. Well now is your chance! I’m giving out two autographed copies.

Now grant you, showing up at church at 4:45 a.m. on Monday is likely to sound like a horrendous idea to nearly anyone is their right mind, but if you have that unnatural quality known as being a “morning person” or you can muster the strength to wrest yourself from

I thought I’d do a two-parter starting this week:  One part “What does a Broke-Ass kid want?” and one part “What does a Broke-Ass Mom want?”  You know what’s so great about kids?  Up until a certain age (I’ve yet to discover at what age this changes) kids love the

Christmas and the surrounding holidays are a tough time to be a broke-ass. There are parties, drinks, gifts, cookies and stockings and Secret Santas and White Elephants and egg nog and bells, oh my! It is, after all, called the season of giving not the season of thoughtful free hugs