Tuesday May 15, 2007

it's hard working with a group of aggressively fabulous boxies at the Southern, because we feed eachother's habits (more brie!  more shoes!  more scotch!  more dancing like fools!) with unbelievable effectiveness.  For example, the lovely and talented K-A was at the show on Sunday night, sporting a rather gorgeous bag.  Of course, this sparks a discussion of the origins of said bag, and some obsessive googling, and oh no! I have a new lust object.  Or objects, rather:  Matt & Nat bags.  I'd seen one of these on my boss' wife's arm this winter, but figured that if she was carrying it, I could not afford it.  Well, they're expensive enough that I can't impulse-buy one, but not quite so expensive that I'd feel guilty.  Enough telling, here's showing: 

The big, burgundy "Turkish" bag- think how many pairs of emergency flats I could stow in this!

The Bond Street bag- totally impractical in white, but sooooo pretty....

and the Jorja bag, which I covet in this dark blue, but is also available on ebay in bright kelly green.  Oh, decisions.

And then, as if I weren't already imagining the steadily decreasing numbers of my checking account, I had to have an irrational need for a wristlet (well, it is slightly practical, as far as going-out bags go- I'm forever being paranoid about leaving my highly visible bag unattended on a table/bar/counter, because I don't want to lug around a giant, 10-lb purse while also holding sloshy martini and gesturing wildly).  So Banana Republic, of all places, makes a wristlet in a subdued but slightly splashy python print:
which I am totally not going to buy, unless ebay comes through for me on this one.
And then there's Etsy, giving me ideas like this gorgeous, handmade, pick-your-design and pick-your-color wristlet (which makes me feel better than buying a big chain store clutch, I suppose):
Or I could just stop buying things, already.

I have a work thing (by "work" I mean "opportunity for free booze that I jumped at the chance to attend") on Wed, which promises free cocktails for 4 hours and hors d'oeuvres, which can be seen as a justification to buy a bag- because I'm not spending money on liquor that could otherwise be put to bags, right?- but I'm a little skittish, because it's at Chambers redwhite&fuckingblue bar.  The last time I was there, I drank two bottles of wine and kicked my boss in the kidney in the middle of Hennepin Avenue and then was punished with the hangover to end all hangovers.  That cannot be repeated, if only for the sake of my dignity and my liver (and my precious few brain cells left after spending most of this past Saturday in a haze of cocktails and cava).

Unrelated to twitty accessories:  my building is becoming more like a lawless zone every day.  This weekend, someone managed to shatter the top of the building's front door, leaving poky plasticine bits all over the entryway to stab unsuspecting feet.  Also, someone stole the only functioning dryer.  Why someone would bother removing a large, bulky, coin-operated Harvest Gold dryer is beyond me, but it was clearly ripped from the wall, and the slumlord swears that he didn't take away the single functioning appliance out of spite.  Will he replace the missing dryer?  Probably not.

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