HEARTBREAKER

I originally planned on starting this blog at a later point when I was better versed in the blogosphere and better stocked in my wardrobe-osphere.  However, I had a moment this weekend which I considered a sign that the time to act was now (and this has nothing to do with the fact that my mother got borderline-to-standing-right-on-the-line verbally harassed by a street psychic claiming to sense her “strong aura”—I couldn’t make that up if I tried).  Anyways, back to the moment.  This weekend, I saw and stroked my first Celine bag.

I’ve been lusting over them for about 6 months now—the color combinations, the symmetry, the way it could cause me to take a second look at my old geometry textbooks for inspiration (could, not would).  With my graduation just around the corner I dared to ask my parents for one as a gift (a request so grandiose it didn’t even elicit pause for contemplation).  Rejected, I began the “in 10 years” detox where I attempt to not think about something I cannot have until I can have it...or transfer my emotions to some other material object (healthy, I know).  I was just approaching the acceptance phase when I walked past a store called Gypsy on Worth Ave (ironic, considering the aforementioned psychic encounter).  Three Celine bags.  Including the disturbingly beautiful black and white one (my two favorite colors).  That’s when I lost myself.  I should have just walked away, pretended that it hadn’t happened, that we hadn’t had that moment.  But we did.  So I went in and I touched it and it felt even better than I could have ever imagined…

Whence came my first new years’ resolution: I will not go into stores that carry items I cannot afford.

PS – The lump in my throat has yet to subside since leaving him…

What's your kryptonite?  I showed you mine...