ROSS again

On my last weekly trail of tears to ROSS in Glendale, which wore one big Armenian frown---of course---I saw there, amid the shoe chaos on the shelf, a shining pair of Sperry Topsiders. I didn't get them. I am late on the trend (they are so 2009) and mama's got nothing to wear them with. What, bindis and hippie tops? You must be kidding!

Alexander, RIP

Just because people can't walk in your shoes, that's no reason to commit suicide, man. Seriously, though, my heart is breaking to think that Alexander McQueen is now pushing daisies. Unless you have contemplated or attempted suicide yourself, you cannot imagine the agony and the courage it takes. It's the penultimate selfless (ish?) act. And there are several people involved. The one who wants to die. The one who has to do the dirty deed. And, shit, forgot who else. Satan?

Sad, sad, sad :(

Guilty Pleasures

Shoulder pads on the other hand can be way cool. But why am I thinking so much about fashion? Why am I not thinking about preschools and vitamins and baby wipes and bottle feeding? What happened? Am I maybe becoming my shallow, materialistic (vs. maternal) self again? Have two years of intense work in the Zen school of Dr. S. accomplished nothing? Case in point: $20 dollar exercise class at glam studio followed by shoe shopping at Zara and an overpriced Latte at Le Pain Quotidien, while stowing M. away at daycare. And he was clinging to me leg this morning. Can we say GUILT?

Mommy Couture

Dr. Scholl's. I'm bringing them back 'sall uhm sayin...