Sunday, November 15, 2009

subliminal messaging.

A margarita later and Nina Ricci is getting seriously futuristic on me. Tokyo relapses all over again.

The Meeting Places and My Bloody Valentine force you to have this like false nineties memory of you like getting high or something in Japan. Which to me speaks loudly in high altitudes where my ears are popping in that blackkkk dresss mannnnn. The flowy one that gets you all confused at first glance but then your double take leads you to realize that oh shoot sherlock that junk is fierce.

But if I'm being completely real with myself the bigger part of me knows that I deserve Celine's collection because of all of those sillouhettes that will undoubtedly fit. Both top left's. All that simplistic color that speaks.

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