I admit it. Even more, I'm a sucker for it. My most girly trait reveals itself in deep fuchsia, stacked pumps, skinny indigo denim, and silky teal camisoles. Blistered heels and credit card debt, be damned! I adore all things fashion, including snarking over its victims a la Go Fug Yourself. But sometimes I'm also a slave to style. Quel surprise.
For the last two fall/winter seasons I've coveted a cashmere dress. And I've hunted for this ultimate luxury that will be the happy ending to my closet's fairytale for just as long. I'm convinced that not only will this dress make me eternally chic but it will somehow soothe whatever ails me and probably find a cure for AIDS. (See? I'm not completely shallow.) The piece de resistance!
Why haven't I found this perfect specimen? Well, cashmere- quality cashmere anyway- doesn't come cheap. I've carefully browsed the end of winter sales and have an ongoing search on ebay, but I have yet to come across thee dress. The one that's both amazing and affordable. Less luxurious knits have begun to beguile, but I'm not giving up on the holy grail. Lately the search has been all-consuming. I surreptitiously fit online boutique searches in between work tasks (I love the tabs feature on Firefox, by the way). I dream about fondling a heather grey mini version. But alas, no shouting of Eureka! By the time I actually find this thing, it will be summer and I won't give a 2-ply crap about it.
Or you'll see me strutting down the street in all of my cashmere glory, sweating in the midst of an August heatwave. I told you before- I'm one sorry sucka.