Gun in hand, Absinthe in throat.I bought a brand new pair of shoes. They happen to be six inches high and lovely. I'm currently loving this gorgeous pair of Jimmy Choo Lexy heels, which are available in a multitude of colours and pretty damn high. They're a little over a thousand bucks and from their spring/cruise collection.
Besides, I also have my eye on the Gucci Queen($4000) and matching shoes($760):
I think I'll get the shoes first. (insert extremely happy face here)
If you don't like what I like, or simply don't agree with my preferences, don't express your opinions. I don't care, and they don't matter.
Anyway, if you thought I was done with the bitching about the fucking common fug bag that is the LV Speedy,
YOU'RE WRONG.Because it is a fucking ugly and common bag that 540 out of 541 people in Singapore have. Everytime you walk through the doors between the Chanel Flagship store and the Louis Vuitton store in Ngee Ann City, you will spot a queue snaking outside LV. This queue is full of only 5 types of people:
1. Wannabes.
2. Losers who want to get the
cheapest designer bag in the market.
3. Foreigners who have no idea about Singapore's ability to bastardize bags.
4. Wannabes.
5. Wannabes.
Technically there are only 3 types of people, I'm not stupid like you. But you know what? This is my page and only what I say matters. There is also no tagboard or haloscan or guestbook for you to offer your inane bitching. (If you're thinking of posting your comment or mine or both on your own blog, well, I don't care and I'm not reading it, dipshit.)
One thing is true though, that Singaporeans have this uncanny and inate ability to bastardize the goodness there is in designer bags. Remember Anya Hindmarch's
I'm Not A Plastic Bag fad? The one that led to 763412089471 imitations that outplayed the number of fake LV wallets in the world? Why the hell would anyone want to purchase that canvas piece of shit anyway. It's not useful, nor pretty and most of all not
eco-friendly, you still need material and resources to make it. What are we, idiots? We
know it's not fucking plastic. People who carry this bag simply risk looking like a cheap asshole. More so referring to the ones who carry the fake version of this jackshit.
And you thought it couldn't get worse.
If you carry this said bag, or the LV Speedy,
NEWSFLASH! YOU'RE MEDIOCRE.Everybody's got the same bag as you. You're ordinary, average, nothing good. The only thing
special about you is your mental capabilities.
It's not nice or gorgeous, or useful or classic or ergonomic. Nor is it
economical. If you wanted an
economical bag, it would say 'Cold Storage' instead of having all the ugly prints you call monograms.
By the way, LV's got the worst monograms. Next is a tie between Gucci and Coach.
So if you were ever hit by a truck or abducted by aliens who brainwashed you, remember never to purchase something that a million other women already have in their worthless collection.
Don't buy the Speedy.
If you must really do Louis Vuitton, get the Mahina. Or in Damier print. Anything but the fugly LV monogram.
And that includes the coloured versions.
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After this mental diarrhoea, I'd like to share something I saw in Hermes that I must have. Contrary to any redundant belief, it's not the Birkin nor the Kelly. It's not a scarf either.
Want to know what it is?
It is beautiful, that's what it is.
This picture simply doesn't do the pair of heels justice. But if you have so much free time, you can pop by the Hermes official site to start your lame search.
Also on update, was the fact that I was at Raffles Hotel's Bar and Billiard Room(Restaurant). It was absolutely breath-taking. I'm talking about the hotel on the whole. I'd give up food for a whole month to stay 2 nights there. The courtyard - gorgeous. The rooms - gorgeous. The restaurant - gorgeous. Hell, even the lobby is beautiful. And the best thing about my trip there was that in the lobby, beside this black man playing the grand piano, was this precious little creature staring at me, beckoning me to come and hug it and take it home, and I wanted so much to reciprocate its feelings...
No, it's not a dog.
No, it's not a baby either.
It's a precious orange Hermes Birkin. I swear it was calling me.
Too bad, I changed my number to 1800-CANNOT-AFFORD.
I'll post some pitures of my trip to Raffles Hotel next entry. Or the next. Or the next. Don't hurry me, remember, your opinion does not matter.
