Gail Rudnick and Kim Murstein, the dynamic duo behind the wildly popular podcast “Excuse My Grandma,” have stepped into a new role that’s got everyone buzzing. Gail, the straight-shooting grandma with a heart of gold and a no-holds-barred attitude, and Kim, her quick-witted granddaughter-in-law who brings a modern twist to every conversation, are now the faces of The New York Post’s advice column. Imagine blending the wisdom of a seasoned New York grandma with the savvy insights of a millennial savvy— that’s what readers can expect. Their podcast has already charmed millions with its raw, unfiltered takes on life’s messes, from family dramas to unexpected twists in relationships. Now, translating that magic into written advice, they tackle the sticky situations we all evade at family dinners, offering a mix of tough love, laughter, and real talk that feels like chatting with your own eccentric relatives over Sunday brunch. Gail, with her gravelly voice seasoned by years of city living, often draws from her own life lessons, while Kim keeps it grounded in today’s world, debating and hashing out every angle until they land on something truly helpful.
What sets their advice apart? Nothing is too taboo or too tricky for these two to dissect. Whether it’s family feuds that simmer for generations, friendships gone sour over petty betrayals, or the nitty-gritty of money woes, marriage hiccups, or even bedroom blues, Gail and Kim dive in headfirst. They hail from New York City, where the pace is relentless and the people are resilient, and they bring that energy to every response. Gail’s perspective is often the voice of experience—pragmatic, sometimes blunt, pushing for practical fixes like “just stop eating the cake if it’s five pounds.” Kim counters with empathy, urging self-validation and finding joy in non-material ways, like curling up with a good reality TV show or hitting the theater with pals. Their differing views create these delightful back-and-forths, almost like a comedy routine, where they push each other to refine their thoughts until they deliver advice that’s not just honest, but unforgettable. Readers leave feeling heard, challenged, and maybe a bit relieved, knowing that even in 2024 (and into 2027, as Kim jokes), life’s comparisons and complexities are universal.
To get your own dilemmas sorted by these expert enthusiasts, it’s as easy as pie—head over to nypost.com/ema and drop them a note. That’s where the magic happens: you submit your burning questions, and Gail and Kim roll up their sleeves to respond. It’s interactive, it’s real, and it’s free—part of The Post’s commitment to giving voice to everyday struggles in a time when everyone’s glued to screens and social feeds amplifying insecurities. Whether you’re grappling with something embarrassing you’d never whisper at a cocktail party or a heart-tugging issue that’s keeping you up at night, their platform welcomes it all. No judgment, just genuine guidance wrapped in New York sass. And if you’re tuning into the podcast, you’ll recognize these letters as echoes of episodes that have sparked debates and nods of agreement across airwaves.
One recurring theme in their advice is the battle against comparison, especially in today’s image-obsessed world. Take, for instance, a reader who wrote in feeling crushed watching her friends shed pounds through pricey GLP-1 medications like Ozempic and elite boutique workouts she couldn’t dream of affording. The envy was messing with her head, making her spiral into self-doubt every time they posted gym selfies or shared “before and after” glow-ups. Gail jumped right in, her tone maternal yet matter-of-fact: “Don’t feel bad about it, honey. Don’t compare yourself to your friends—for heaven’s sake!” She suggested patience, noting that soon, a cheap generic version of those weight-loss pills might hit the market for about $10, doing the trick just as well. But Kim fired back immediately: “No! The advice shouldn’t be to jump on the GLP-1 bandwagon too!” It sparked a lively debate, with Gail explaining that these drugs aren’t just trendy appetizers—they’re serious tools for major weight issues, proven to drop cholesterol and blood pressure. She cautioned against using them for minor losses, like five pounds from skipping desserts, but emphasized their value for health crises. Kim shifted gears to the root problem: the comparison itself. “It’s less about access to shiny drugs and more about stopping the mental merry-go-round with everyone and everything,” she urged. Social media idols, celebrities flaunting perfect lives—it all fuels insecurity. Kim admitted she’s no saint; at 37, she still catches herself envious of others’ thick hair or toned figures, calling it an unfortunate part of womanhood in 2024. Instead, she preached internal validation: chase happiness through self-care, like pampering rituals or hobbies that build confidence, not endless chases. Gail hated that “fluffy” answer, ranting that the friend should just embrace her own body and quit gazing at others. “Nobody’s perfect,” Gail grumbled. “Your friend probably has her own messes beneath that shiny exterior.” If weight’s a true issue, Gail advised consulting a doctor for affordable alternatives, steering clear of desperation buys. Together, they painted a picture of self-acceptance over societal pressure, a reminder that true change starts from within, not from a wallet or a trend.
Another sticky scenario they unraveled was about a young woman in her 20s dating a man two decades her senior, a gap that made group outings awkward for everyone. The friend swore he made her feel secure, but his unsolicited advice on life—everything from marriage to retirement plans—left the group squirming, especially since she’d just hit 25 and wasn’t thinking kids yet. Should the asker speak up, or butt out? Gail was firm: “It’s none of your business. Their relationship, their problem.” If it bugged her, Gail suggested meeting solo during the day to dodge the discomfort, keeping interactions minimal. They’re adults who’ve chosen this path, she reasoned, comfortable with the age difference or not addressing it publicly. Kim tentatively offered a milder route: a gentle nudge to the friend like, “I love hanging with you two, but it feels like he’s doling out advice when I haven’t asked.” Gail shot that down as meddling, insisting that if unease persisted, the asker should pivot to other friends or avoid group settings altogether. Kim floated a passive-aggressive quip at the guy, like “Always playing therapist, huh?” but Gail vetoed it outright: “Not nice, not fair to their dynamic.” The chat wandered to age gaps in general, with Kim capping it at ten years—Gail agreed, though Kim preferred three to five when the guy’s older, citing typical male immaturity. It was all said with laughs and exaggerations, capturing that grandma-granddaughter banter where boundaries are drawn, but empathy wins. In the end, their take? Respect privacy; focus on your comfort by reshaping social habits.
Wrapping up these nuggets, Gail and Kim’s column is more than advice—it’s a lifeline for navigating messy human connections with humor and honesty. From dodging envy traps to respecting love’s oddities, their voices echo the real struggles of New Yorkers thriving amid chaos. They remind us that comparisons are killer, but self-love and smart choices are saviors. Whether through the podcast or their written wisdom, they’ve built a community where flaws are celebrated, tough truths are told, and everyone leaves feeling a tad wiser. So next time life throws a curveball, remember: channel your inner grandma or in-law, hash it out, and laugh through the awkwardness. It’s all about turning life’s “offs” into “oh wells.” And if you’ve got a dilemma? Hit up nypost.com/ema—they’re ready to grandma-splain it all.
