Yesterday, before our Gouda debate, beanorama and i followed a stranger. not intentionally...at first.
she was a petite brunette with excellent self confidence and an eye for fashion. she was decked out to do what seemingly looked like just going for a stroll. she had her hair slicked back into a ballerina bun. she wore dangly earrings and an ipod. her figure was wrapped nicely in a black, tailored "vintage-inspired" dress. she pranced up 18th and down walnut streets in black, patten-leather pumps and made each window shopping gaze a demonstration of her sly ability to look without really looking interested.
she was also smoking, which made her look ten times more cool. this is where i lost beanorams, who tore her apart. i also expect her to have more than a couple of nasty comments to this post.
but i still like her. i will name her...Marisol von Otten.
2 comments:
I LOVE THIS POST because I do it all the time... Did you guys talk about what her life must be like, if she had a secret meeting with her lover or if she was a thief?
i've said it once and i'll say it again: knowing it was an 80s knockoff h&m dress that i tried on and discarded made me lose the allure. I mean, I'm not hating on H&M, but I can't pretend that Marisol was straight out of fashion week because I knew the truth.
And I wasn't hating on her twisted earring OR the worn down heels. I was just saying that that stuff happens to me too.
Marisol was great because she was curvy, compact and totally self contained.
Smoking is bad.
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