Sunday, September 19, 2010


Sometimes label love can actually be a good thing (i.e. stereotyping people - with hilarious consequences and/or the simple task of being addicted to colourfully sticking post-it notes onto things so you don't drown in an academically induced flood of tree-killing papers...not that this has ever happened to me...)

And often it can be a bad thing - did you really have to ask why Ed Hardy went bust? (And if you did - we can never ever ever be friends...) or ye olde poorly made fake mishap - where you feel a cruel need to inform the proud wearer that 'Cucci' is in fact spelled with a G...

All the same. A bit of shameless logo bling never hurt anyone.
It's possibly the 80s Dynasty-relic, blingtastic, mah-jong playing, mistress-bashing Asian woman in me...
With a wardrobe full of old-school gold Chanel costume jewellery, I wouldn't really be complaining but that's entirely off tangent.

It probably explains why I'm a not-so-secret fan of my new Dior belt (part of the impressive birthday coup once again...)
It's mostly subtle luxe (super-yummy chocolate brown Italian leather...) but with a classic yet slightly 'in your face' buckle.
The whole 'You have the only one in Melbourne' factor probably didn't hurt either...

It's the perfect way to indulge your not-so-inner show-off.
And to be a bit cosmopolitan spoilt brat.
Admit it, you want to join the club...

Elitist and wholly yours,



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