Thursday, June 29, 2006

Marc Jacobs + shopping.

(This post was written at least a month ago.)

My love for Marc Jacobs runs deep.


I'm working in this really stuffy office where workwear is very corporate-ish. I wore a striped shirt with a beige A-line chinos-material skirt for my interview. Apparently, I was under-dressed. Plain shirt, plain skirt complete with a fitted blazer would have been more appropriate, I was informed. By Henglee.

Like I care.

I'm not going to look like the typical office lady, who's actually supposed to be in her 20s (according to her ID) but ends up looking middle aged because of horrendous workwear from the depths of hell. I'm not going to look like them.

Hell, no.

Anyhoo since I'm going to work soon, I have all the excuse reason in the world to go shopping. In fact, I've already used this reason CONTINUOUSLY since the day I knew I was employed.

Black blazer so I can have this superwoman, "I'm not afraid of you, you lousy stinking piece of crap who thinks lowly of me" look. The powersuit is key to this effect.




Black is ALWAYS the new black. I lurve black.

I don't mind a white one. I can always pretend that I am at the French Riviera sipping champagne while enjoying the summer.


Gawd, I need a vacation. A vacation in the Mediterranean.




I still need a black/olive/dark grey cardigan. Shocking pink.. should be refreshing in the office.

Can't help it. Air-conditioning gets to me.


A fitting skirt. Not too long because it makes me look like a friggin' pygmy. I don't want to look stumpy when I actually want to impress my boss.




And I think denim mini (check out www.supre.au.com) is widely condemned at the workplace. Even on casual Friday.


And this cute cute black top. Drool...



I saw a similar one at MNG, but due to the fact that I've racked up this shocking amount on my plastic (my mom's plastic actually), the remnants of my conscience (trust me, there's very little left when it comes to shopping using my folk's money. Not very proud of that fact.) reined me in so I had to tearfully (I was wailing on the inside) put the top down and leave.

Damn it.


p.s. All clothes in this post are from Marc Jacobs. Aren't they just swooonsome?


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