First, for putting my obsession in check. I don’t know why I was on those shoes so tough last night (they showed up in my dreams – no bullshit), but thanks for helping me keep everything in perspective. If I happen to find them in a thrift store with walls lined with cubbies full of stuff (like in the dream I had), I’ll get them. Fair? I think so.
Second, for posting about this:
I actually went somewhere on a Sunday afternoon and had a damn good time. Since I didn’t have the wherewithal to bring cash to actually buy stuff – like this DOOOOOOPE vintage green sweater covered in shiny things – I took the time out to take everything in, browse some cool stuff, listen to some cool music and meet some cool people. Sucks that we missed each other there. Bluh.
AHHH! Vacation is over. Can’t wait until Christmas!
I’m about ready to give up my firstborn child to the person who can find me these in an 39EUR/8US. I know, I know…I’m obsessive/fixated/have issues/blah blah blah. But still. GIMMIEGIMMIEGIMMIE!!!
Why does the blog world (and yes, twopeople make up the blog world when it comes to these shoes) continue to taunt me with their possession of my long-obsessed over Chloe combat boot? If I could actually find them for sale, it would be ok, but NOOOOOOOOOOOO. They’re nowhere to be found on the intertubes. NOWHERE!!!
Why must I cry???
I just sat and watched all of this mess. I feel like the least the world can do is send me a functional link where I can buy these shoes. Or point me to someone that doesn’t want their pair anymore. Or anything. The back of a truck/shoe equivalent of a chop shop/your local dealer will do. Seriously.
Muze, I’m working on it! And by “it” I mean finding the right sweater to do that to. It’s hard!
Progress Report: the pants are fashioned, but they look like shitty pants – you KNOW what I mean. This is the very shape I was trying to avoid, so I’m trying to umm…fix…that. Yeah…
Hope you all are enjoying the time off. I’ve been sleeping. A lot. It’s quite shameful, actually. Once something interesting happens, I’ll let you know.