Oh hello, you. You pretty young thing. So spritely and vaguely Lolita, yet grown-up all the while. You’d take me from weekend sleepovers to work to looking vaguely put together for a date afterwards, all in one fell swoop. By making yourself available, you’ve become indispensable. If I had you in ... Read More
Bag Whore: Mulberry ‘Del Rey’
Ostrich. So luxe it gives me the goosepimples. Or hee-bee jee-bees. Tomato, tom-ahh-to. Regardless of what you call them my own skin starts to resemble that of the thousand-dollar-priced material just after a moment's glance. (The look never works for me as well as it does for a luxury bag, ... Read More
Bag Whore: Writers Always Prefer Takeout
Bag Whore. It’s simple. It’s straightforward. Neither prettified nor Frenchified (something I do far too often to be considered cute). Bag Whore. It is what it is, glorified in all its cheekiness. There’s a ring to it, non? Here's to a sporadic handbag column fueled by a long-time obsession first ... Read More