addiction mishmash
Battlestar: Oh. My. God. I am so in love with Admiral Cain Roslin.
I am so sad. Yesterday one of the editors had her bag sitting on the floor near the door, and every time I walked by, I'd covet it, because the first time I noticed it I thought: Wow, that's the DKNY Kenya tote. It looks so good in person. I am one of those women who know bags by name. Shame. Shame upon me.
My mother is an enabler. I'm doing so well with the not-buying-what-I-don't-need. I didn't buy a single thing to celebrate the new job, and instead rewarded myself with a day of sloth, and then today at the mall I did not buy a really adorable double-breasted black cardigan that I know I would actually wear to death. Why? Because I already have a black cardigan, and if I'm really meant to have this one, it will go on sale. You see how good I am? And then I go into Nordstrom and try on a pair of Michael Kors flats, and they are adorable and on sale, and still I say, "No. I already have a pair of shoes in this color, and another pair of shoes in a comparable style. I do not need these. Plus, I am fucking broke." So good! Such willpower! And then my mom bought them for me. If they hadn't been on sale, they would be the most expensive shoes in my wardrobe, and they look it, man. They're like, practically as cool as the Michael Kors boots I coveted a season or so ago. Cooler, even, because I can wear them year-round. Thanks, Mom!
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girlboymusic) wrote,
