Wannabe

I love messing with the salespeople at Neiman Marcus.

My family and I recently went on a trip to Los Angeles for the weekend in search of an apartment for me. And in the process, we visited Fashion Island… Yes, Fashion Island. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? I would love to be Gillagin on that type of island. But in reality, it’s not an actual island [insert disappointment] but just huge mall. A beautiful city of a mall.

Of course I wanted to visit all of the major department stores and boutiques. When I saw that they had a Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus and Bloomingdale’s… Oh gosh, I was embarrassing. Just picture a little kid who is visiting Disneyland for the first time… that was me. I’m not saying I’ve never been to those fine establishments before, it’s just a rare experience because those stores are not close to my hometown.

Neiman Marcus is my favorite. Right when I walk into the holy of holies, I get very intimidated from the well dressed employees and the clinically clean floors. Since I have a shoe and purse fetish [Hi, I’m Lauren. And I have a problem] I went straight to those said departments. Oh… oh those shoes… beautiful. My mom and sister tried on Louboutins while I drooled over some feathered Valentino’s.

I then separated from the pack and wandered into the wonderful land of purses. In my wallet, I probably have enough to buy a pack of gum… but what the Neiman Marcus salespeople don’t know, won’t hurt them. I pretend that I’m a very successful career woman and I try on the Balenciaga’s, Louis Vuitton’s, Prada and Gucci. I ask questions about the suede interiors, ask about cleaning techniques, types of leathers. I get the sales person very excited that they might be making a sale… and then I pretend that my mom is calling my cell and I have to go. I know it’s cruel, but it’s more cruel to not let me get a purse. Believe me, I would more than love to help them make commission. One day… that’s all that I can keep telling myself. One day I’ll be able to be a regular customer at Neiman Marcus… If not work there. Oh, but a girl can only dream.

Summerrrrrrrrr 2010

[Exhale] SUMMER’S FINALLY HERE! Yes, I just yelled that like a little child. The season of popsicles, shorts, miniskirts and tan lines are amongst us, ladies and gentlemen. 

This past semester was kind of a dud, all I can do is keep my chin up and look into the future. I have BIG news actually, I can’t believe I forgot about this, but anywaysssss…. I’m MOVING! This is BIG, cause I am leaving the nest after twenty years and I am moving to Los Angeles. [Insert Cabbage Patch dance and high-five]

I’m actually really scared about moving out, cause I have no clue how to live on my own. I’m a big adult baby. I can’t wait to take off my training wheels and live on my own. I’m in the process of finding apartments and a car. My mother says I need to start packing, but I’m not moving for a good month. I don’t know if that’s me being the procrastinated person I am or my mother can’t wait to kick me out. Where on earth does one find cardboard boxes? Sorry that’s random, yet relative… so the question still stands. I might as well pack all my clothes in garbage bags, while I hold onto my shoes personally on my drive south. 

The first week I live in my new place, my sister is going to say with me [yes, I need her] and we are going to have a week of fun. I have tickets to Disneyland and we plan on doing all the cliché Los Angeles stuff. 

*Mental note: buy a burrito after writing this.

Once I move to Los Angeles, I know that I’ll have a lot more interesting things to say to you all. But till then, let’s talk about the Resort 2011 shows. I’m in l-o-v-e with Balenciaga’s resort collection… tre magnefic. Nicolas Ghesquière amazed me again with charming prints, full skirts and little vests. Futuristic tribal masterpieces made for the masses.