It was 5:00 on an overcast Wednesday and, down in Soho, the hot potatoes came out to play. I was down there to redeem a coupon. The coupon was expired and the bimbo behind the counter ripped it in front of my very eyes as if there was deliberate deception on my part. Her eyes said, don't pull this con again but her chompers were all like, "I'm so sorry about that."
Shoo, I shall have my bargain, I said. In my mind. Perhaps a violent Karma will settle that score as it has for all of the others.
No matter, because I was in a mood for pretty things and so I found Miu Miu where a bangin' pregnant saleswoman came at me like a gnat. Usually a small thank you will give you enough time to wander the store unscathed. Unfortunately, I lingered in front of a blazer for two seconds too many and was perceived by the sales team. One told me that there was merchandise in the back so if I had a very specific item in mind, she could sniff it out. Her pregnant colleague presented me with a button-down she felt was 'made' for my remarkable brown hair. I obliged her.
In the dressing room, she brought a few detachable neck collars and a 'dickie' which can turn any respectable shirt into a despicable turtleneck. Perhaps because she was with child, the woman refused to laugh at my 'jokes' about how I didn't have the money for a silk bib.
By god, the bib was spectacular. It seemed to go with everything, the piece of shit. "Maybe for my birthday," I said, more fooling myself than the blank-faced mother-to-be. They must have thought I was silly, these women, like one of those horribly-dressed people of the Subway who carry real Louis Vuitton totes. In short, I purchased no dickies, no Miu Miu, no nothing today.
The many faces of Miu Miu:
1. A rabid Amanda Seyfried
2. Kirsten Dunst
3. Drew Barrymore dressed in flower-power
4. The original 'dickie'
make me rich plz,