Friday, June 14, 2013

Corso Como Lusting


My sister, Elizabeth, introduced me to the affordable beauty and elegance of Corso Como pumps last winter, during an evening out at Gramercy Tavern celebrating my birthday. She wore this pair of classic suede pumps in black, the slight hint of gold in the tip of the toe the perfect accent against her monochrome look. Earlier week, I discovered that the bold velvety red variety are on final sale at Piperlime. I will espouse the many versatile qualities of a great pair of red shoes dogmatically, my consumerist sartorial mantra. For someone who has been bemoaning the lack of organizational space in my new apartment, especially when it comes to handbags and arguably impractical shoes, indulging in this steal may be laughable. Even more so, considering the chaos and destruction of my recent closet woes, which, ashamedly, I am still in the throes of. Moderation has honestly never been a trait of mine, anyway; go hard or go home.



(image taken from Piperlime)

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Closet Crash



Sunday late afternoon is spent reveling in a cool, languid heat, sipping Sazeracs and stouts. Then we gorge on Cajun spiced food, the soft flesh of white catfish, bloodied tomatoes, rich mayonnaise sauce. We speak slowly and laugh. Tattoos, given to ourselves, or bestowed upon us by friends. Ventriloquism. Documentaries. We sit on wooden picnic table benches, prime real estate, as cigar and marijuana smoke mingle and permeate, a couple of local of caricatures smacking on rolled joints of different flavors, stretched taut denim, stretched taut braids. Reading conspicuously from some red leather journal as they puff.

Earlier that day, zealous, I arrange fastidiously various limp cascades of fabric in my two new closets, harnessing spacial analysis and brute force. A wooden dowel, long and supported by cheap plastic, I ignore all tenets of physics that I know to be true and cruel. Snap, like a cracking bone. Collapse. Inevitable entropy, sprawled and crumpled on the floor. 

I cry for a moment, overwhelmed and hot, then decide this is a manifestation of the proverbial growing pains.