You know those times when you spot a jaw-dropping editorial or so happen to come across The Sartorialist on a Sunday morning or God forbid…the Great Garance Doré when you have nothing to do so you just so happen to live say…in Malaysia…and the nearest shopping mall is say…KLCC…and you find it hard to resist the temptation to run out of the door and spend all your money on say…699 RM motorcycle jacket…
yeah. life’s peachy.
Life in Malaysia was good. Crazy, with all the rush and the damn traffic and Mon Dieu the harassing salespeople and the uncivilized civilians but it was all in all, home. I went to look at Nottingham and the only thing that I can say is this; it’s like rehab. I swear to God I’ve never seen a university so beautiful in my whole life. Oh mon ami just said to me ‘have you lived your whole life already? don’t fret, you’re still young‘.
Things are beginning to look good. The storm’s almost over, at least I think so. I wonder if I’ll see the rainbow some day…and a pot of gold…and jumping leprechauns too…all wearing Michael Kors…mmmm…divine.
Oh Dieu, you know when you’ve got nothing to wear, you fling open your closet and groan, complaining about how boring all your Moschino, Chanel, Prada, Mugler, Jil Sander, etcetc clothes are so you see, you grab an XL size white tee when you’re of an XS size and you put it on, grab a pair of black leggings that go beyond the knees and near the ankle and put that on too, tie the end of your shirt a wee bit to tighten it up a little bit and then grab your 4-inch Oxfords from Clarks and then loosen your hair, accessorize yourself a little bit, put some mascara on and pink up those cheeks of yours, walk out of the house with a Harrods knapsack and then…BAM! they look at you. the women give smiles and looks saying ‘hey! why didn’t I think of that!?‘. I just love those days.
I’d never forget that best part with the Zara print silk mini dress and the wool black tights and Clarks…
“Who is that?“
-by two American girls.
