Monday, February 27, 2006
I know you are wondering...no new,known obsessions?....PLEASE. Two word: wedge shoes. They are the heel without that unstable feel. Can't get enough. The make my calves look...YUMMY. Well to me atleast. Hey no comments some the peanut gallary. Note the comment option disabled. Don't push me cause I'm close to the wedge. Yeah I had to write and what? Smooches.
Does anyone miss the days of the Electric Eighties? Most of all, I miss the Rick Ashleys, Swingout Sisters and Basias of the world. So I have decided to dedicate my daily trips to and from work, in the month of March, to Brilliant British Artists. Let the tribute begin. Smooches.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Being the faithful follower and avid collector of Dior trinkets that I am I have to admit I was in shock that I had not heard nor seen anything about the new beauty on the market. During my normal mid-afternoon Ebay browsing, I decided to search for Dior glosses. That was when I saw her. I nearly lost my lunch. How could this be? At first, I had to talk myself down. Thinking that only the Euro dames get to have this bauble all to them selves. At that point, I threw the expected tantrum and decided that I must have it *swallow* no matter the cost. I vowed long ago, never to let another desirable Dior goodie slip threw my well-manicured hands again. Called old, reliable: Sephora and of course they had it...for $70 BUCKS. I could not believe what I was hearing. Could it be one of my possible darlings was never gonna make itself at home among the many others that I have claimed? Le sigh! I said this one I will have to pass on. Out of sight out of mind, right? Until I happened to stop by Bloomie's to grab a bottle of Chanel nail polish in Vamp. SA told me they were out but to try the Dior counter if I am in need of a dark hue. I was like okay. What are chances that Bloomie's would have it and, if so, I must be strong and realize $70 is not worth it for lip gloss that I can wear on my wrist. I walk up to the counter, start to inquire about a dark shade of polish and there she was...all polished and glistening. Okay I say to myself. Get yourself together. You can do this. But the Dior demon popped up from out of nowhere and took a seat right on my shoulder popcorn, ready in hand. Is this reality I thought. All it did was utter four simple, little words: just try it on. So I obliged it. Just to "prove" that I could just walk away. Awww...heck once it hit my wrist I was done for. I glided to the checkout counter and yanked out my debit card. It wasn't me I tell ya…It was the one-armed man making the purchase. To this day, I will always say it wasn't me. That is my story and I am sticking to it. Heck what do you want from me? I have a problem and I refuse to seek help for my condition. Smooches.