Ahhh sample sale season (spring has nothing on the december sales but i'll make due). So tomorrow I will be rising an hour early, well so I suspect tonight, although if I go out of control with the snooze button it is not meant to be. Steven Alan's sample sale starts at 8:30 (!). Mon Dieu! I mean this is for sure just an evil plot to laugh at us all and pronounce us all major suckas but for the chance of scoring some Isabel Marant, I may just give up those precious moments of shut eye and high tail it to Franklin Street.
The results TBA here.
But let's talk about Ms. Marant for a moment. Clearly my obsession with French style is evidenced here...
And she really embodies the spirit of cool parisian girl living la vida boho. The Marant girl is effortless, her clothes are not swiped off the racks at sample sales, they are left overs from past lovers that left their jackets or sweaters behind to greet a sunny morning of mimosas and cigarettes at a cafe in Le'Marais. And maybe a few pieces from her very poetic father who in his youth was quite a casanova and wore everything extra small, thus fitting her slight frame perfectly.
And then there are the dresses she picked up in Morocco- where she arrived in only a beat up pair of jeans and tank. Desperately in need of some dresses, she hit the markets and unearthed the following.
I mean, really people, who wouldn't want to be her?
And tomorrow morning I am one step closer. Note to self when I can't remember my name as my alarm beeps incessantly...
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