Ugh internet, sometimes you run across people doing things that make you feel like a hack loser who should not even bother sucking up all the oxygen in you own apartment even though you pay rent on the air. Some people I admire, some people are aspirational, and some people just feellike me on Adderall, but y'know, forever. I feel like the Wooooo blog when I'm slightly drunk, which is to say, brilliant. You did not seriously post R.B Greaves' "Take a Letter Maria," like it was no big deal. Who are you?
It's like this motherfucker is in my brain or we had some past life regression session and together we are one forever and ever. Amen. I can totally see myself going Hedwig over this situation. Maybe I just need a Balance bar? I am hungry. My brain is bummed by his balls outness that only serves to highlight my own repressed cray-cray. No more! I am yours forever Jason Crombie. You complete me.
When I first saw these Alaïa boots in 2008 I categorically loved them. Vaneli, famous for being your great aunt's favorite footwear brand sold at Macy's made a recent and decent replica. I like their more substantial heel better than the ultra flat Alaïa one. At the time and even now, I was not willing to drop 800 dollars for a pair of shoes. Any shoes. I would wager that half that price is my absolute total limit. And when I have spent that much on shoes it has been on pumps that live in my closet and get treated like fine silver I'll never pass down to children I'm not having. I find myself wearing boots more often than any other shoe in my wardrobe but they are the least represented type of shoe I own. Why am I in such denial about what I like? Or rather, why am I in such denial about what I am likely to wear and not just fawn over?
Why am I so reticent to drop hard earned cash dollars on shoes that will be wardrobe staples but gladly pay the same for heels I love owning but not wearing? Is it because feel some dress me up, dress me down female Almodovarian guilt? I am not really a dress wearer by nature. I love pants so much. Ankle boots go best with the things I love wearing. It seems obvious, so why do I keep buying expensive heels for ultra femme outfits I don't own? I don't even own a single skirt. I should be buying the same level of boot for daily use and not feeling guilt over it.
What really worries me about these shoes is both wanting something I wanted two years ago and not wanting it for wanting it two years ago. As though my style should evolve enough in two years time as to be currently undesireable. I feel like I'm living inside an Oscar Wilde quote when I admit to this neurotic guilt about a pair of shoes. I am a cliché. Move along folks.
I have scoured eBay for these dumb motherfuckers for years. Intermittently, admittedly but I am not a huge bid and see type gal. I demand satisfaction. The few times they've shown themselves they've been in tranny sizes. My correctly sized shut-'em-down proper de Havilland knock-offs are a possible reality? Est ce vous Polly Maggoos? I was so excited I popped my Blingee cherry for them to show my appreciation.
I don't know what my bid limit is on these because I never figured that'd ever be a decision I'd have to make. I am eating the ortolan! I am going to the moon Alice. Pow! Right in the kisser!
My RAS has been activated by this photo of Carl Sagan and Viking Mars lander. HELLO UNIVERSE I AM AWAKE. That dude is wearin' my coat! Ugh, I can't be thinking about coats, at a time like this it's 96º right now. Seriously though. I hadn't seen this photo until an hour ago. How did I know to put a space patch on it?
A hundred dollar purse and some $9.99 fauxnels. Racial harmony exemplified in accessories? Black and white living together in perfect harmony. Side by side on my piano, keyboard, oh lord, why don't we?
On a related tip, Vogue pats itself on the back for having a biracial September cover girl. Here's a look at the last 10 years of September covers for comparison's sake. Keep lumbering towards extinction Vogue!
While it is true that Olympia Le Tan's clutches are more like cigar boxes with embroidered covers and less functional clutch, they were the first. Plus, they're hand crafted, and her taste in book selections is better. Kate Spade attracts the sort of woman who still considers Prada Sport nylon backpacks as a thing anyone cares about. Consequently she's in that purgatory of brands that are loathesome for possibly the wrong reasons, like Roberto Cavalli and Coach. Secretaries of a certain age who have Costco memberships and scrapbook think those brands matter and I can't enjoy them because of this associative taint.
Still, there is a small part of me that wants the clutch functionality, (Can you imagine a lipstick rolling around in a Le Tan all night? I'm pre-annoyed just thinking about it.) while retaining the hand embroidered good taste of the originals.
Then Olympia had to go and make a bag that addresses my nagging doubt. The war is officially won.
This is the Alexander Wang "Velvet" Rocco. When I read that I got super excited that they made this duffel shape in velvet. I put on my old lady glasses and saw that it was just nubuck. BO-RING. Just another case of my brain being on a totally different plane of existence.
If I do want this shape in real black velvet then I'll have to make it myself. Butterick pattern 4624-D comes closest. Just shorten/widen the handles and lose the pockets (if you're into total fidelity to the original), right?
Made items in pattern photo shoots are always hilarious to me. It's like color blind women in Nebraska design all the textiles in the fabric store world and then Keebler-elve them into the worst Fake Vera Bradley combinations ever.
See what I mean? It takes a special kind of person to see potential in that hot mess. No wonder no one sews from patterns anymore.