I was trying to hunt down my thigh-high suede boots that has been long lost in the sea of shoes that is the countless number of bags in our basement, but I found THESE instead. They have some Chinese labeling on them and I have no clue where they originally originated from, hence the very mysterious description. Hmmmm... I actually think I have these in cognac too, somewhere.

 

 My hair was accidentally going for this Brigitte Bardot-look this day(before the wind get it's hands on it, pffft), and as a girl with hopelessly flat and pin-straight hair, I kinda felt the responsibility against my peers to embrace it. So I slapped on some winged eyeliner and nude lipstick before hitting the ICA-store in 5 inch heels wearing a sequined cross body bag and a leather mini. Now this is a small town but I've been breaking everyone in inch by inch and sequin by sequin, and I doubt anyone even notices me strolling about only carrying whipped spray soy cream and canned pineapple in own juice anymore. Cool and pretty sad but mostly rad.

 

PS - I'll stop talking soon but let's just have a quiet second for the fact that I'm wearing tights that actually are appropriate outside my ice cream-eating & Sex and the City-watching bedroom empire. And they didn't break. Hell yeah.