Posted by cat on August 13, 2007
It was close to the top, hovering just below: Any bag of any kind and More pointy black shoes.
The Coat beckoned to me from the hanger, so creamy and politically incorrect. I knew, even before trying it on, that the swingy lines would forgive all figure sins, and at the same time convey a certain slyphlike élan far beyond the purlieus of my daily wardrobe.
Joseph Magnin. Knee length wool. White mink collar. Aged a genteel cream. It was mine by divine right, and by force if necessary. I was able to avoid that violence with a heavy dose of plastic.
“But!” you’re saying, “it’s August. What kind of crazy person buys a wool coat in August?”
Two kinds. First, anyone who enjoys the hiemal summers of San Francisco. The other, a child raised by my mother and indoctrinated from birth with the mantra buy it when you see it, not when you need it!
In this case, guilty as charged on both counts.
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Posted by cat on August 11, 2007
You know how sometimes you see the perfect shirt or dress, but think, “Shit, that would rock my world if only it was purple.”
Those frustrating days are over. I discovered a new place, a place for people who love purple and the people who shop for them (italics theirs): The Purple Store.
Okay, sure. I started out writing this to make fun of them, which is mean and also what I love to do. But then the purple camo t-shirt came to my attention. The epiphany was swift and hard, and now I am a people who love purple.
Yes, sometimes the Goddess works in mysterious, purple, ways. Blessed Be!
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Posted by cat on August 11, 2007
All of it’s cheap, and some of it’s affordable. This lovely number comes in innocent pink, pristine ivory, and whore black.
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