There's much I could write about. I notice that what I'm really thinking is that there's much I should write about. I hesitate to use expressions such as this, but, I tend to believe in the AA aphorism "don't should on yourself."
When we got home, there was a copy of Harper's Bazaar magazine in our stack of mail. It's huge. 408 pages. Two perfume inserts (both awful). Hundreds of pages of ads. Many of the models are downright scary looking. Not because they are so thin, which they are, but they stare at the camera with menacing looks that would put any death metal musician to shame.
I'm enjoying leafing through the magazine. I enjoy fashion. I also enjoy being irked. Seriously. I have come to realize that I enjoy feeling outraged, as long as it is not that serious. Being outraged by anorexia amongst fashion models is not the same as being outraged by genocide. It seems a little ridiculous to bother pointing this out.
I know I'm only supposed to look at the pictures, but I do read the copy. Here's what stuck in my craw: "We've all been there: arriving at some haute soiree positively preening over our pitch-perfect ensemble only to see her. That girl. . .Suddenly, you want to burn a cigarette into your coat. . .and lose 10 pounds in 10 minutes. . ."
Do I even need to comment?
No, I think not.
Image note: Forget about the dress. What does this mean?
Addendum: I am thinking of keeping the subscription so I have something trivial to be irritated by. The television is on right now. I hear ". . .more bad news is expected next week." More about the connection between the above to come.
Addendum II: Victor & Rolf's "Flowerbomb" perfume may actually be nice. It's nowhere near being a bomb of flowers. But, I've always wondered if those fragrance strips are accurate.
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