I saw this when reading the usual Postsecret and couldn’t help but think she read my mind!

(And if you’ve no idea who’s The Sartorialist, you shouldn’t be reading this.)

We’ll get back to our regular programming very shortly….

(Editrix’s Note: This is an excerpt of a real life IM conversation between my younger sister and I….)

Moi:

i wanna write in my blog

31:50
but i’m stuck at the first sentence

32:09
i wanna write about why finding a relationship is like how to find an outfit to wear

kito:
12:32

ok’

32:54
lol

Moi:
12:33

its true

33:16
u can choose whether u want to dress for ur body type

33:20
or dress for ur mood

33:29
i realise all along i try to dress for my body type

33:35
it can be quite boring

kito:
12:33

lol

Moi:
12:33

but if i just dress according to my mood

kito:
12:33

kuku

Moi:
12:33

then it doesn’t mean its wrong

34:03
just means it depends on what works for me best

34:08
at that point of time

34:10
like guys

34:21
body type= ideal dream guy

34:27
or the guy u always go for

kito:
12:34

ok

34:52
lol

Moi:
12:34

mood= guys tt u know isn’t ur type or seems wrong….but it feels right somehow

34:59
just for now

35:01
and u never know

35:07
that’s how i feel about FC

kito:
12:35

ok

35:15

lol

35:24
why u tink i always go out with weird people

35:31
cause they are more fun.

35:32
lol

I was once on a date with this crush of mine a few years ago and I was trying my best to appear as the homely ‘girl-next-door’ type. I’d put on my most low-key outfit- a denim miniskirt, pink tanktop and ponytail, and thought I was pulling the role off pretty well. Until my unfortunate slip of the tongue when I got really excited as we were discussing our futures (note the plural…as much as I was dreaming of sharing mine with him, alas he was not as besotted with the idea).… I’d mentioned : “Yeah, my dream house would have a closet as big as a bedroom, and I want to model it right after a designer boutique with shelves and racks and my name in a stainless steel sign lit underneath- just like Gucci! I want to feel like I’m shopping in my own closet!”

That gave the game away.

A few years later, wiser and plainly refusing to hide my shopaholic tendencies- unless its from the mother or the bank statements- I’m rather close to achieving a massive closet where every few weeks or so, I pull something out with a tag still on it and realize I’d bought it 4 months ago. “Wow, I’ve never seen this before!” Likewise, stepping into my bedroom feels like I’m walking into a vintage boutique. I love rich texture, colors and a lil bit of the sparkly. One of my decorating (and spacesaving!) trick is having a tall pile of beautiful aged-leather luggage set instead of a wardrobe to store my clothes….. I love that sense of history and romance as I imagine the journeys my luggage has seen.

So I was really excited to get affirmation of my sense of interior style with this nifty tool from the people behind Imagini. Imagini is this great site where you get to decode your personality and tastes by going through images and questions they present, similar to those quizzes you’ll get in Cosmo or Elle. Though I guarantee its 200 times more accurate than “Are you a Bad-ass Mistress or Cuddly Kitty Kat?”…. here’s my result:

I especially love the conclusion at the end of my report:

“Your home’s a shrine to all things glamorous.”

How apt.

    “Happy Single Awareness Day mister,” I said as I gave him a huge hug. It had been one of those days when it was great to see a familiar old friend.

      “Happy Single Awareness Day right back at ya.I was going to stop at Rite-Aid and get you one of those chocolate hearts but I was running late…” He jested as we walked through Chinatown, the one place I knew that wouldn’t have needed a reservation weeks in advance or violin players in the background as we dine.

As we were waiting for the light to change, I glanced over at him and noted the dark collared shirt against his winter coat. Hmmm…snazzy. Wait, he had dark pants and leather shoes on too. *eyes him suspiciously* This was the guy I’ve known for 4 years whose uniform consisted of an ironic  print t-shirt, baggy jeans and favorite green cap with his initial on it. “Hey wait a minute…did you dress up???”

“Huh? What? Who?” He feigned innocence and tried to shift aside. That’s when I got a glimpse of it…

    “OMG…You’re wearing a TIE too!!! You did dress up…you’re going to ditch me and find your crush aren’t you??”

He laughed and swiped me away. “K fine, I did dress up but no, I’m not going to go out with her today. Believe or not, I dressed up for you. I’ll tell you why when we get to the restaurant and I can take my coat off to get the full effect..” I raised my eyebrow at his last statement, ‘uhoh’ I thought. Maybe he’s turned all preppy on me.

When we did reach the quiet empty restaurant, he went “K, k are you ready?”

“Sure…” 

He proceeded to take his coat off. Beneath the winter coat was a dark maroon pinstriped shirt, black skinny tie and dress pants. “See, check out how I’d matched my piercings to be reddish-black for the entire look!” he declared proudly and pointed to his ears. He even had a leather belt with a polished buckle on…I’ve to admit he does clean up very well when he has to. I was flabbergasted.

“Very snazzy… I’m impressed. You dressed up for Valentine’s dinner with me?”

He pointed out his finger like a magician pausing to show the final trick. “Not just any Valentines…. I’m dressed for a FUNERAL…”

“Ah, I hate love and all that stuff?”

“No…I’m celebrating a funeral for YOUR last Valentine’s Day as a single… you’ll find someone amazing soon…”

I looked at my friend and beamed. “Awwwww…… ” He does always know how to make me smile.

And then we ordered our greasy chinese grub.

“Ohhhmmmyyygggaawwwddd…” the shrill voice pierced through the store as I stood frozen in mid-poise. I had just stepped into the cute Soho shoe boutique, lured in by its bright lights and dazzling array of brightly hued shoes in the window. I knew in truth that there was zero probability that I could afford any of the fancy European makes in there. Still, like a moth to a flame, I puffed up my chest and marched right in. That’s when I was caught.

I instinctively reached into my pockets and looked towards the direction of the voice. Its source was a tall blonde woman in her 40’s, seated in the center of the store and flanked by an entourage of a boston terrier, a sales assistant and her fashionista friend decked out in a gorgeous Tibetan coat. The blonde lady looked straight into my eyes. She was dressed in black from top to toe and looked like she belonged more in the Upper West Side than Soho. Her manicured hands stroked the shivering dog as she pursed her lips and exclaimed, “ I LOVE YOUR PANTS!”

I must have had a strange mix of relief and bemusement settled across my face as it hit me, ‘Ah, she likes my pants…’

Except I wasn’t wearing any pants.

Well so technically they were leggings. Shiny PVC black spandex leggings to be exact.

They were the same pair I’d worn for Halloween in my reincarnation as Midnight Miss Suki -”the ultimate samurai warrior ninja princess!”- alongside PVC stiletto boots, silk kimono and hefty dragon sword.

I blushed, “Oh thank you..” I’m always a sucker for compliments to my sense of dressing but not when the entire store had stopped in mid-track and were eyeballing my shiny ode to S&M spandex. (Although I did make a point to tone it down with a pair of tall riding boots, a Mondrian print minidress and plain ole knitted cardigan.)

She turns to her friend, “Aren’t those simply stunning? I’ve always wanted to get those...” Her friend nodded in unison, “Yes, they are very cute.” She turns back to me and asks the million dollar question, “Where did you get them from?”

“Well actually these are just leggings. They’re selling gold and silver ones at American Apparel I think.” I dwindled on as I became all coy on where I’d bought my pair. I’d figured if they knew I’d bought them for $10 at Joyce Leslie (Editrix’s note: the mecca of ghettofabulous, trashy cheap fast fashion) a few months back, it might not have resonated with their polished sentiments.

“Oh is that where you’d bought them from?” cooed the blonde lady. I blushed. I am so bad at telling lies as my fort crumbles. “Well actually I’d gotten them at Joyce Leslie but that was a while back so I doubt they’ll still have them.”

Pregnant pause.

I looked at her face for any trace of confusion (“Is that the latest downtown designer?”) or disdain (“Urgh..Joyce Leslie? Thou art not cool anymore, thy is banished from this beacon of hipness!”). There was none. Instead she turns to her fashionista friend.

Her friend beamed as she took a deep breath and I watched her Tibetan coat heave. She nods- “Ah, Joyce Leslie….I love that place. You can always count on stumbling across something there.”

“Vintage Ferragamos. Very nice.…” she beamed as she eyed my feet.
I was both surprised and relieved. “Thanks..how could you tell?“
As soon as the question passed through my lips, I gave myself a mental smack on the forehead.
She is the shoe guru afterall.

I was at a New Year’s Eve party hosted by Miss Meghan, stiletto glamazon, host of Shoe Therapy on HSN and overall great gal. Feeling like the cat that got the cream after getting her seal of approval on my choice of footwear for the night, we lounged around while watching the impromptu fashion show her female guests were putting on. As the stream of ladies tried on pair after pair of heels upon discovering her stash, I was getting floored by each gorgeous, crazy and staggeringly tall pair of heels. And then it hit me that save for that night itself, I couldn’t remember when was the last time I’d donned a pair of party heels.

My ferragamos looked like a village hut next to her architectural skyscraper pair of Sergio Rossi

I’ve never been much of a shoe girl but i do love my accessories. A girl’s first pair of heels is almost like a coming-of-age ritual- I remembered getting mine when I was 9 years old. I was the first kid in the block to get them… a pair of 2 inch Elle black round-toe pumps with three skinny buckle straps across the front. They were beautiful and dangerously tall for a girl my age and height. Looking back, I could have very easily twisted an ankle in that but perhaps my mum’s mantra was “Hey, if you’re going to get some heels, then go all the way!”

The ultimate ghettogirl-don’t-f*ck-with-me stilettos I’ve bought 3 years ago which still remains untouched…

My favorite part about wearing a pair of heels (apart from first 10 seconds of release when you proceed to take them off at the end of the night) is that subtle strut you get in your step. Where with each step you take lies a nanosecond when your entire bodyweight is dependent on that one heel as you sway to the side and then confidently put the other foot forward with a resounding solid ‘click’ on the ground. As much as I bitch about the slower pace I’m forced into with my heels, I do find it incredibly empowering and just plain ole sexy.

I’m just going to keep repeating ‘its the core, feel the core, its my core…”

So inspired by Miss Meghan and rediscovering my own stash of dusty heels hidden under my bed, one of my fashion resolutions for 2008 is to definitely wear more heels.
(And probably having more foot reflexology sessions while I’m at it. )

Hi darling, its me.

Or rather this is you exactly one year later from this date on 31st dec 2006 dropping by to have a lil chat. I know you’ll have a lot of questions for me about what’s in store for 2007- like whether you’ll make it through the year, if you’ll get a good job, if you’ll get to stay in NY and probably the most important question in your mind right now- is this really goodbye? I won’t tell you everything cause you’ll still be bothering chick with all your Jean Gray questions. Instead, I’m going to sit here and tell you what you’ll need to hear.

In the course of one year, you will be given countless talks and advice on how to deal with everything. All of them will mean well though undeniably, you’ll have to take others with a pinch of salt. The only person you should listen to is yourself. Trust yourself babe, you’re definitely much stronger and smarter than you give yourself credit for.

Remember what pap said- your strength is your heart but this is also your weakness. I won’t lie and say your heart won’t be broken this year. It will.. It will hurt so bad that you wonder what’s the point of it all, it will ache to the extent that you think you’re going mad and you will cry even when you think you couldn’t possilbily have any more tears in your body. But cupcake, trust me… You will have a plethora of friends and family who will support you and even strangers will be there to hold you when you’re tired. Its not going to be easy and even as time goes by, you’ll wonder and start questioning everything you’ve once believe in. You’re definitely going to change for sure babe, you will become a lil harder and a lil colder but at the end of the day, we both know you’re going to be just fine. Hang in there babe, we’ll just carry on and see how life goes.

This is going to be a year that you’ll literally have enough material to base a whole TV series on. There are going to be so many tragic ironies, comedy, triumphs and the like that you’ll start to wonder if life is imitating art or the other way round. Just remember that no matter how low you go, good times will come because you believe that they will and you will make it happen. The big catchphrase of 2007 is going to be ’serendipity’. Just when you think that’s the end of one story, here comes another lil twist in the tale. You are going to do things you would have never thought you’ll do in a gazillion years. Maybe its a good thing, maybe its a bad thing- but hey, better to regret something you’ve done rather than something you wished you did eh? This is also going to be the year when you fully embrace New York and move onwards without fear or reproach because when you hit rock-bottom…what else is there to lose right cupcake? You’ll always have me and the family.

Likewise you’re going to learn alot of things, things that you’ve taken for granted or had forgotten over the past few years. You’ll remember why you’re in NY in the first place but you’ll stop feeling guilty for it. Your strengths will be more obvious as the year goes on, in fact you’re going to be surprised yourself by what you’ll achieve in 2007. You won’t get everything you’ve wished for, but you will get everything that’s right for you now. Don’t let it get to your head for as much as it is your hard work and effort, you’ve to remember its those who believe in you and gave you your chance. Take a deep breath and rest for a bit, we’ll have a long way to go but it’s going to be fun.

I know you’re scared of people and relationships. You’re always worried how much you’re pulling or pushing people, your impact on them and how much you can do for them. All I can say is what you’ve always considered your weakness, is actually going to be your strength and what draws people to you. Its ok to be quiet and observe, in fact you’ll absorb so much that it seems surreal how much better with relationships you will be by the end of the year. You will meet literally alot of people from all walks of life and countries, you will gain so much from them and likewise you will be able to touch them the same way. You’re not that big a bore as you think you are. Your attitude to things will change because of them when you realise there is no absolute measure in life. Lighten up, have fun, enjoy yourself, don’t judge.

Don’t be sad when people walk in and out of your life…I know you’ve always thought its a failure on your part when a relationship ends. Sometimes hunbun, a relationship will last only for a particular phase or purpose but it doesn’t signify that it didn’t have meaning. I know its so much easier for me to say this now but trust me, you will realise when you’ve outgrown some friendships. Remember that a good friend is one whom you will feel energized by once you part. If you feel drained or depressed after hanging out with someone, I’ll say see if they’re worth it before making your decision. Pick your battles.

Babe, you will look in the mirror and you will start to see the woman you’ve always wanted to be. Somedays she’s hiding in the shadows and at other times, she’ll be out in full force. No matter the persona, attitude or outfit- trust me, you will feel most powerful when you’re just dressed in sneakers, jeans and a plain tee as you haul up your own body weight’s worth of books up six storeys all by yourself on the last day of 2007. It will be the best of years, it will be the worst of years. It will be a very long year but babe, its time to lift your head up and smile.

Love always,

You

P.S Fine, fine..yes you’ll get a job you’ll love, a place of your own in a fab neighborhood, you’re staying in NY, you’ll have amazing people in your life, you’re stronger, wiser, confident and funnier.. and have the matching wardrobe to prove it!

Someone once asked me the significance about the gold skull-and-crossbones pendant I’d often wear once upon a time and I’d laughed at his seemingly complex and obtuse theory of how it reflected my hidden macabre personality. “I’m wearing it cause it matches my outfit, you’re overthinking it…” I remember the slightly condescending tone I’d used.

Fast forward a year later and the last laugh’s on me. He was right in his own way, I pull out certain looks or accessories every once in a while that seem off-kilter to my usual personality. Depending on the company you ask, my taste has never really veered from the ‘classic chic’ or ‘casual glam’ vibe I tend to convey. (i.e. black, white, solid colors with a hint or two of sparkle or skin). I do have a penchant for luxurious textures and skins (PETA will probably not appreciate my love for croc, python and fur) albeit on a budget for now but even then, the wildest I’ll go would be leopard.

However, it dawned on me today that some of the pieces I have that others consider edgier and goth are one of the first few I’ll reach out for whenever I’m in an ambivalent mood.

“K, should I wear the dagger-shaped pendent, the leather cuff with metallic buckles or the PVC bondage-y boots?”

Today was such a day when I’d instinctively reached out for a grey turtleneck minidress (sombre? check), black oversized cardigan (warmth and practicality? check), PVCish black leggings (rockstar cred? check), gold dagger pendent lying precariously close to my heart (freudian symbol ready for dissection? check), white coat-of-arms oversized pendant (theme association alongside said dagger pendant? check) and floppy beret (item that obscures half of my face? check).

I was feeling slightly blah early on a Monday morning which I was certain would develop into the full-blown blues by mid-afternoon. Usually on days like these, I’ve no energy or interest in engaging my OCD habits of planning the perfect outfit so deciding what to wear takes 5 minutes instead of the usual 55. Even then, as I strode out of the house I started pondering on why did I decide to dress up so aggressively and ready to take on any motherf*cker coming my way.

And that’s when I had the brilliant epiphany that my closet goth reveals itself as my modern-day armour. A skull-and-crossbones necklace is a shield from the rest of the world but an obvious indicator that I’m feeling that odd mix of vulnerability and defensiveness. Exactly how Barthes describes why a lover might wear sunglasses:

“Yet, to hide a passion totally (or even to hide, more simply, its excess) is inconceivable: not because the human subject is too weak, but because passion is in essence made to be seen: the hiding must be seen: I want you to know that I am hiding something from you, that is the active paradox I must resolve: at one and the same time it must be known and not known: I want you to know that I don’t want to show my feelings: that is the message I address to the other. I advance pointing to my mask: I set a mask upon my passion, but with a discreet (and wily) finger I designate this mask”

I’d laughed then at his attempt to psychoanalyize me with my necklace because I assumed he was trying to break down my personality that very first day we met. I guess we just overlooked the fact that its not so much a reflection of my personality coming into play- just my armour trying to guard me from myself.

When we last left Agent N, she was caught in the conundrum as old as time itself- “I have nothing to wear”. Faced with the prospects of making an outrageous showstopping entrance versus exuding subtle intrigue, it all boiled down to four choices for her mission: Classy Chic, American Sweetheart, The Vamp or Vintage Glam. Which one did she choose? Stay tuned to find out.

………………………………………………………………..

When addressing any and every wardrobe dilemma, it comes down to one word: Black. Especially in New York.
So I had pretty much set my sights on two picks; The Vamp versus Vintage Glam.

With that in mind, I hauled a duffel bag worth of two dresses, three pairs of heels, two handbags, one makeup kit, a mini jewelry box, hairspray, teasing comb, fake eyelashes, manicure set, a bottle of Static-Guard and anything else I could think of the next day. I was heading to the event straight from the office and obviously I was not a believer in Cosmopolitan’s “From-Work-To-Play-In-5-Minutes” guide.

So when the clock struck six and nervous anticipation had rendered me completely useless at my Macbook, I snapped it shut and called out to D- “Dress up time!” She came over to my desk to examine my magical duffel bag that held everything and the kitchen sink as I deliberated over what to wear.”Well…” I chattered excitedly, ” I think I’m going to go with the vintage dress cause it looks gorgeous with..” I stopped in my tracks as I’d unfolded the dress from its tissue paper. Uh-oh.
I rummaged through the bag as I muttered to myself ” You’d managed to bring a set of fake eyelashes but don’t tell me you’d forgotten the belt that holds this dress up…”

Flashback: A snapshot of the oversized tortoiseshell belt draped across the bed as I’d ran out the door this morning.
Shit.
I did forget the belt.

“Well it’s a good thing that you’d brought the second dress then,” D chimed as she sensed the distress on my face. “Mmm…yeah….” I bit my lip and eyed the clingy knitted alternative, “I don’t know if I can pull this off though.”

The misconception most men have when it comes to women and dressing up is that its the mere matter of looking good. Alas, if that was that simple, my dresser wouldn’t be wailing (not groaning) under the weight of my gazillion dresses, blouses, pants, skirts, bags, accessories, and shoes. When a woman takes her clothes seriously, its apparent by the myriad of personalities she might exude at any given day. Give a man a mask and he’ll show you his true self, bemused Oscar Wilde. I say, Give a woman a closet and she’ll show you her past, present and the self she wants to be. Clothes have this amazing ability to imbue one with a persona. While an extremist lets the outfit wear her to the point that one never knows her real self, the good ones allow that extra lil dimension to their personality with a pair of earrings or even the way one tucks the shirt in.

My hesitation with slipping into that dress wasn’t just a case of having to suck in the tummy the whole night through but whether I could slip just as easily into the skin of the vamp. Pouty, seductive gaze, suggestive strut and the whole she-bang. Call me crazy but what’s worse than a slightly schizophrenic/obsessive compulsive fashionista is one that talks the talk but lacks the catwalk.

“Oh well,what have I got to lose?” were my infamous last words as I pulled the dress over my head.

………………………….

Seven hours later, as we ran down the street holding hands and giggling like a couple of high school kids playing hooky, he pulled me into a corner and I fell on top of him. We laughed as he drew my arms to enwrap his neck. My breath quickened. “You know”, he murmured as he lingered in the trace of my neck,”that’s a really nice dress.”
I smiled to myself. His cologne faintly sweet and musky was strangely intoxicating.
“Why, thank you.”

……………………..

“You ladies looked like trouble last night,” G casually mentioned as I staggered in late to work the day after.
“More like trouble found us,” I absentmindedly muttered as I traced the collar of my shirt.
“You mean trouble found you…” D smirked as I grinned back at her.

If only they knew, if only they knew.

Thanksgiving has been one of those American holidays I haven’t had the chance to truly celebrate despite the three years here just because I keep picturing the suburban family gathered around the table with a beautiful roasted turkey. Sometimes being in the city doesn’t quite cut it and I do miss being able to pop in and out of home to see the family (unfortch an 18-hours flight away rather than a 3-hour bus ride). And then, just as waves of the blues and nostalgia fade in, they get replaced by the promise of a lil retail therapy to cheer up any homesick girl- Black Friday…

Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never actually gone all out on Black Friday. As much as I enjoy the thrill of the hunt, shopping the day after Thanksgiving just seems like a bloodsport and I rather sit that match out thank you very much. One of my favorite sartorial moment though was 2 Black Fridays ago, which I had previously blogged about and stumbled upon its archives when cleaning up my hard drive. Enjoy:

“But on Friday…Black Friday to be exact (the day after Thanksgiving where every single store in the US of A goes on sale)..I’ve made my bestest, biggest, purchase of my shopping life…it was like the holy grail of all bargain hunts….hahha I bought my first Gucci.

Or rather, my first “Gucci”s….

J came up from Michigan for Thanksgiving so we’ve been having alot of fun this week and we decided to do serious damage on Friday at Woodbury Common. Now it seems like everyone in the world knows what Woodbury Common was except for me…so to explain: its a congregation of every designer and non-designer brand imaginable that sells their stuff below retail price..they’re factory outlets but each brand is housed in an actual house…and since they’re so many, it looks like a small suburban town except there are huge signs over the houses and they have window displays. A.k.a..it was N’s heaven…to make it worse, they blasted Christmas music through their speakers so everyone was all Xmasy and I really got into the whole mood and started picking out things for the family etc…

Anyway so I was having a pretty good day and I’ve finished my Christmas shopping for the whole family and I only managed to stick to buying one thing for myself which I really needed/wanted (I can’t tell you what it is since I bought the same thing for my sis). So I was done and I wanted to go into Gucci for the fun of it since I remember how F said the prices were really good…. Now when she said prices were really good, she meant: A US$1000 handbag would go for $799 kinda bargain… so I figured, “Oh well, let’s just go and see if I can find anything…I’ll even be happy with a keychain.”

(K, my closest friends would probably know this about me… and as you can figure out from my meeting with Tom Ford *oh wait, I didn’t blog about that in detail did I?* ..I’ve this obsession with Gucci and Tom Ford ever since I saw Zoe Tay in that Gucci dress in the music video for The Unbeatables II in 1995 (Yes, I have an amazing memory for fashion in the 90s). And yeah, like I said…if it wasn’t for the Gucci Fall 95 collection…N would be a psychologist and not doing fashion in Parsons NY- the very same school that Tom Ford graduated from. But I’ve obviously not gotten anything from Gucci cause duh..I’m not rich. And I was kinda sad when Tom Ford retired because it meant that I couldn’t get anything from his collection anymore and Gucci has never been the same since…so enough background to explain this story: moving on…)

So I was browsing around by myself, I’d to wait 7 minutes outside because there was a line to get into Gucci…it wasn’t all that crowded compared to other stores but there were obviously more people compared to the usual boutiques. So I’m checking out the bins…*hahah yes there were sales bins…* and I was surprised because they were all scarves but the tags were like “Wtf???? $300????” And I dug around the tshirts- $289, $447, $199…the cheapest thing was like a plain white tshirt for $99…. I was so despondent that I just started milling around…looking at rich Japanese women trying on $1999 coats and not wanting to leave after 2 minutes of being in the store. So I said “Screw it, let’s just look through the clothes and see what’s nice so that one day I can afford it…”

So I saw this pale pink suede pencil skirt and my first thought was “Hey this is gorgeous..” And the second thought was…”Hmmm..I’ve seen this before… hey omg, its from a Tom Ford season!” And true enough it was from Spring 2002 which probably was the year which was the epitome of Gucci’s look. Then I looked at the tag….

…and my hands turned cold and my chest tightened…

“No way..” I thought to myself…”This must be a mistake, maybe its the size..”
So I looked around me to see if anyone else noticed what had happened while clinging onto the skirt for dear life. I looked at it again, “Hmmm…it does look a lil big..but I mean, that cant’ be it” and I put it against me… it seemed to be my size. So I looked around again. Yet no other women seemed to notice what was going on and no one else was pouncing and trying to grab the skirt out of my hand. So I found a salesman and he must have spotted the mildly distressed look in my eyes… and I go:
“Excuse me, could I just ask you how much this is?”
He’s all (bright smile):”Well, you tell me how much do you want it to be?”
So I got super confused and laughed nervously because for a split second I really thought I could tell the price I want and that’s the price I get… “Well, see the tag says this but I’m just checking because maybe its the size..”
And he looked at it and said “Well that’s the price you’re gonna get it for then..”

So I nearly hugged him out of joy and died on the spot.
And I turned around to see if I can spot anymore bargains like that..
…and I spotted the same skirt in khaki.

“Omg…I can have one for play and one for work!!!” I thought to myself, grabbing it yet again and wondering what the hell the other women are doing or if they’re super blind. Granted, the skirts were hidden behind a couple of other skirts that were definitely more exhorbitant…still…

So I went to the dressing room thinking “k, even if they’re too big and fall off my waist, I am still gonna get them because I can just bloody alter it…ITS GUCCI..”

and they were perfect… the perfect pencil skirt cut I’ve ever tried on. it felt like butter wearing them, they were shapely but my ass didn’t look huge, my waist wasn’t too wide, they hid my tummy, and I had no vpls!!!

Basically they were perfect…and I started laughing to myself in the dressing room thinking that God must be really happy with me to give me such a nice surprise…I started to think it was fate and I had to like, save a village or something to give back half of the lil blessings He’d given.

So I got out of the dressing room and another saleswoman helped me out…and I asked “K, I’m getting them but I just need to check the price with you again. You’re sure its not missing a digit?”
She: “Nope, that’s how much they cost alright… plus you get an additional 25% off on all ladieswear today”
Me: “WHY IS IT SO CHEAP????”

Hahahha…brilliant right? Just when I think I’m actually becoming a very matured polished woman, I say something like that. She just laughed and said “oh its from an old season…”

I didn’t care…I wanted the old season…think about it…it’ll go up in value in the next 10 years. A vintage Hermes Birkin was auctioned off for $28,000 the other day.

Anyway so now I am the very proud owner of two Gucci suede skirts.

K so by now, you’re probably fed up with listening to me go on and on about how brilliant a buy it was and dying to know the maths…..

Like I mentioned, the scarf cost $300 and the cheapest thing I saw was $99 for a tshirt.

So here’s the original price of each skirt:

US$1720

Wanna know the price on the tag?

US$69

MUAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Total cost after discount:

US$110

Cost of paying only 4% of retail price:

PRICELESS

So yup, I am a happy girl.”