Crushes are all the same. Distracted by daydreams, thoughts swarming of what it could be like.. what it would be like, if only.. If only I could have what I want. I always do this to myself, I let the projected image carry me away and seduce my affections.
See.. there is this dress. Bottega Veneta Spring 2007. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her in the pages of Vogue. She was sweet and sexy, pale pink the color of summer, peasant accents; I needed her then and I dream of her even now. As I plan my Marie Antoinette themed birthday picnic I envision myself only in this dress. She haunts me as if she is the only dress that will fit this occasion; the only dress that will give me that girlish twirl. The torture is ceaseless because nothing else ever measures up.
This is my life. I develop an intense crush on a concept or a piece and I know if I could just try it on, if I would only try it on, if I could just find what I am looking for, all of my lustful illusions would dissipate. However, it is only a figure of my imagination and will therefore live on to torture me through eternity. This is my relationship with style and fashion and this will probably never change.
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