Forget gambling and drugs, dad should’ve taught me not to binge on champagne and whipped liquor just because it’s free and served on a fancy trays at parties in the City. But, alas, he didn’t. So there I was last night, a fiscally responsible son who D.A.R.E.s to be drug free, chugging like there was no tomorrow–but there was a tomorrow. A very busy tomorrow, which happened to be today. So despite the volcanic hangover and swollen cheeks that commenced my morning, I muscled the strength, motivation and Redbull needed to conquer sunny, beautiful Day 2. Nothing could stop me! Not even the zit that apparently came out to party, got super wasted and decided to crash on the corner of my lip. A little dab of mascara here, a touch of eyebrow pencil there, and voila! I’ve got an all-natural Marilyn mole.
Our first engagement was back at the scene of the crime: Dolce Vita. I don’t know how many illegal elves they had to smuggle in from the North Pole to whip the place back into such immaculate shape, but the showroom looked as gorgeous as ever. A beautiful way to start the day full of more and more appointments:
^coming soon to Solestruck. Exciting!
Solestruck is always the weirdest looking crew strolling through these shows. Some call us haute, some call us ratchet; we revel in it either way. I could actually feel the frustration as brand reps politely tried not to stare at my new mole but couldn’t decide if it had always been there or not.
At this point my embarrassing body had reached its limit. I mean… realistically speaking… my legs were probably more tired than Usain Bolt after a 100m run through the Olympic swimming pool (if it were filled with pancake syrup and he had wet blankets taped to his ankles). There was only one cure for my fatigue: consumerism. Enter, SoHo shopping spree bitchez!!!!
Imagine my shock when I’m just strolling through SoHo and behold, I run into Preston from Vfiles. The thing is, I’m infamous for not actually knowing who famous people are. So when somebody that I find to be “famous” actually happens upon me, I scream–which is exactly what I did. In quite the awkward, squirm-y fashion. One quick selfie together, and I was back on my way to work.
I love this city.