It's Thursday morning and I'm writing Friday's post early because I'm heading away for the weekend with my girlies. I have so much stuff to do still, including finding my camera and having a deep discussion with myself wherein I decide which swimsuit looks best, but I had to squeeze in time to write this post and schedule it for tomorrow... er, today.
Is it weird that I feel like I'm writing from the future? Just so you know, there's flying cars.
Let's do it.
Yeah, I don't care what you're doing or who you are, but these ponchos make anyone look like a stoner. You could be standing in front of a class with your three small children, teaching about the dangers of drugs, and drinking apple juice, and I'll still think you're smoking a joint behind the girl's bathroom on your break.
In the market for a chic lobster bib? This one is a paltry $72! Who says food catchers are just for babies? I'm excited for the creation of adult bottles and scratch mitts.
Sarah sent me these heels, which are made from -- wait for it -- elephant dung. Because, you know, feet usually have such a pleasant odor to begin with.
Also, I think that while disgusting, dung is a much better word than poop. Who's with me?
Yes. This is a very mature fashion blog full of serious fashion.
Anna sent over these ... shorts? My discomfort level right now: High. Not only are these entirely too tight and probably invading places they shouldn't, but they show far too much side-thigh, which I find to be disgusting.
Alisha sent over these bone shoes. As I was thinking about them, I start forming a link between "wearing your heart on your sleeve" and "wearing your bone on your shoe" until I realized that using the word "bone" in a sentence makes me feel gross.
This post is deteriorating by the second.
Aly sent these bad boys, which were recommended to her by ShoeDazzle. I'm pretty sure she didn't specify an obsession with floatation devices as part of her fashion tastes, so it looks like Kim Kardashian got it wrong again. I know, you didn't think it was possible.
This Etsy find was sent to me by Alexandra. Oh, Etsy. Home of terrible fashion with the best descriptions ever. "This shoes is a whimsical portrayal of a faerie land nymph. They'll look perfect while foraging for truffles in the wilderness and casting love spells on that someone special."
Translation: I made this crappy shoe with my glue gun, some pretzels, and stuff I found at Michaels. Can I have $100 now?
Let me guess: You went alone to prom?
(Thanks Colleen!)
FINALLY! Our favorite jumpsuit is back in stock so RUN, don't walk to go look like the fanciest aerobics safari hooker ever!
Elizabeth was devastated, yet strangely empowered when she was diagnosed with a fatal hair tumor. Luckily a photographer was on hand to capture it all. Let's all light a candle for Elizabeth tonight, feeling grateful for our hair health.
Ah yes. A holey side-boob shirt that makes a statement. That statement being "I might smell a little."
Alright, I'm off the the races. And by races, I mean spa. I'm only halfway packed and completely unshowered and I'm leaving in precisely 90 minutes. Happy weekend, friends.
I know it'll be happy for me because my shopping diet is officially DONE. Let the binging begiiiiiiin.