Die already

Spotted with glee during my shopping extravaganza yesterday, in the Gap:

Two extremely large, movable hanging rows practically blocking the doorway and crammed to the gills with garmets just begging for some poor soul to take them home so they wouldn't be put down like so many rabid mongrels in the pound. Of what, you ask? "Skinny" pants...marked $6.99!

Between this and the sight of Neck Tattoo in them last Wednesday, I hope we're getting close to the last death knell in this nightmare of a fashion resurgence. I'll wage the war alone if I have to.

Kill Me Now

I bought my first Coach bag yesterday. I know, I know.

Some of you, like my two shopping companions, will incredulously say "You're twenty-seven and you've never bought one before? Buy two! Buy three - you have to catch up to the rest of us!"

Some of you, like the niggling voice in the back of my head, are saying, "You materialistic whore. That's an obscene amount of money to pay for a bag."

And then there's my roommate's boyfriend Joe, who, after I'd confessed to what I'd done, confusedly asked, "Coach? Like...with horses and stuff?" (I'm starting to think he's lying about this whole "gay" thing.)