Faking It, pt.2

I love to fake it.

Example: Calling up six different high-end stores in a search for Givenchy's studded men's sandals.

First, Maxfield in LA: "Call Bonnies!"
"I'm sorry, Bonnies?"
She hangs up.
Hm. Guess she meant Barney's?

I am a casual high-end shopper. As in, I don't shop too often, but the second I see a "spare" (i.e. existing) few hundred dollars in my bank account, there's a new Marc sweater in my closet, or Ferragamos, or my most recent purchase, a Ralph Lauren sportscoat.

It's hard to fake creativity. It's hard to fake European heritage. It's hard to fake intelligence. But it's unfairly easy to fake wealth and style.

So how did my search end? With a flirty sales assistant at Barney's on Madison who "snuck in a reservation" for size 11 Givenchy sandals. I don't know the price. So let's hope I have a spare few hundred dollars once my phone vibrates to "212."


Nasty, naughty girl

Took this at a barber shop on South 1st. The barber said he hadn't a woman in panties inside his store in fifty years...

It's best viewed with the Suntones playing in the background.


Three Needs, 2nd ed.

1. Givenchy men's studded sandals. (I'd sell an arm for a pair; they're at Barney's NY and if I win the One Shoe I'm buying a pair with the prize money)

2. A camel coat for fall.

3. Light, tight denim jeans. (Getting these tomorrow, actually.)

Current inspiration



Love is the weirdest thing. I've been in a few relationships, and have felt "in love," but I don't think I truly understood what It was until this past summer. The few weeks following my return from Europe all I could think about, write about, talk about, was love. Love is everything: love is motivation, love is pain, love is happiness, love is physical satiation.

Time has passed, though, and I've surrendered Love and am allowing It to do what It wants.

I've been dating someone for about six weeks now, and there isn't any spark. There's comfort, and we get along well. I see it as a shared journey in search of Love, which we will not find in each other but are sharpening our senses and preparing our minds for when It does come.

Today, Valleywag posted a series of accidentally-published Facebook messages obtained during a recent security goof on the website. No matter how "public" our culture seems to be--reality shows, webcams, blogs like the one you're reading--the truth is rarely told. These messages touched me, even through their grammatical errors, enough that I cried. I've included a few below.

Below: I feel like I've been through this exact scenario, but was never honest enough with myself to express it.

Below: They're the lyrics from Blink182's "Down," and end with a wrenching addendum in Spanish.
Below: Fairly certain this is from a young boy in England. Don't we all want to be told this?
Below: This one made me cry. Not a single period in the entire letter, which makes me wonder if the lack of grammar adds to the emotional effect. This is clearly a man in love.
How many of us experience this kind of love? Maybe I'm naive to even consider this Love, but I know I want to have this. And, likely, not everyone finds It in their lifetime.