wearing Zara trousers, Target flannel, thrifted belt, Frye shoes
Thermostat wars continue in the office, which means today's outfit consisted of head-to-toe flannel. I may be the coolest person you know. And I mean that quite literally. I can't recently recall a time when I wasn't freezing.
Also, meet my new friend:
I'm really feeling the roomy bucket-tote style sans hardware. And this Furla bag is so lightweight I can stuff my whole life into it and still not fall over from the strain. Nice.
wearing top by APC, Old Navy Jeans, vintage necklace, Topshop vest
Pastry at Tartine + pumpkin gelato + bomb Chinese food = I'm off the Gaga diet. And thank God too, as I've discovered I'm awfully cranky when deprived of carbohydrates. Also, I've been listening to Lil Wayne's No Ceilings mixtape all week and love how he's given a fresh treatment to a whole bunch of songs I used to like but have grown sick of. You can download it for free on the interwebs, so you should check it out.
When I wear this vest my dog and I could be mistaken for twins.
Halloween '09 turned out to be a magical adventure that had me stalking the streets of the Mission in a thong, getting lost in an apartment building that may or may not have once been a hospital, and doing coke off of a stripper's ass. Ok, one of those things may not entirely be true. Take your pick.
My only regret is that I went to a hipster party dressed as Gaga. If I'd really wanted to fit in I should have been Max from Where the Wild Things Are. Wardell went as a scary zombie creature, and Tracey transformed herself into Peggy Olson, thanks entirely to clothing I wear on an everyday, non-costumed basis. I don't know whether to be proud of or worried about this fact.
My favorite moment of the night: when Tracey told a guy dressed as Don Draper that she'd "see him on Monday morning." Close second: stuffing my face with a burrito after a week-long hiatus from carbs, sugar, salt, and anything remotely delicious. I can't wait to dive headfirst back into my 3-croissant-a-day habit.
For your entertainment: Eric Cartman's version of "Poker Face." I think he does it better than Lady CaCa.
Look past the barbed wire armband tattoo (it's hard, I know) and Pamela Anderson really is a classic beauty. Sure, homegirl's been looking like she needs a trip to the free clinic, but as these pictures from Elle prove, she can still be photoshopped into an approximation of her former Baywatch glory. Love the Mad Men styling of this shoot too. It suits her.
Currently in starvation mode for Lady Gaga costume. Thong leotards are mercilessly unforgiving.
wearing shirt from Therapy, Velvet sweater, Marc by Marc Jacobs jeans, Forever21 necklace, Made by Elves booties
Please excuse these wretched unscientific photographs as proof that I get dressed in the morning. Because you'd never know it from my lack of outfit posts. My camera is still AWOL (I refuse to use the word 'lost'). I wasn't kidding about wanting a digital SLR, though. Do they even exist for less than $600 bucks?
I ordered these thigh-highs from Vicky's Secret instead of the Topshop ones because A.) they're real leather, and B.) they only cost $150 not $200 plus shipping. I hope they fit all right though. Methinks they'll come in handy when I GaGa myself on October 31st. Mmm...that sounds dirty.
Do you have a boner for Balmain? A passion for Prada? Does the mere sight of Alexander Wang's perfectly draped, slouchy pocket tanks send you into a quixotic state of blind lust? Then this, my friends, is the blog for you. I too am cursed with expensive and impeccable taste, but until I decide to follow a career path that guarantees a six-figure salary, the chances of me going on any shopping sprees are slim to none. In the meantime, I need my fix. And I'll get it by combing the dark recesses of the interweb for fabulous fashion with a 4-digit price tag--stuff that for now at least, only belongs in the realm of pure fantasy. Just like pornography only you know, with less body fluid involved.
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