Last weekend we got our first real swallow of spring.
It included bright yellow jelly flats (great), a vintage harvard t-shirt (great), walking outside without huddling (great), and pig-piling onto Gurj’s beach blanket with silver nail polish and the Cinematics CD (really, really great).
It also included this scary sight:
The dress that won’t die, flapping across Central Park like a war banner.
Take cover – we won’t know its replacements for a couple of weeks.
[SABRINA La BEAUF - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
ok, i have to admit–i have been actively wearing the dress that won’t die (although that’s not me in the park).
but i have a good excuse. i’m just out of my 1st trimester and it’s the only thing that i own that fits.
that is a good excuse, right?
i saw it on sunday in east london as well. it really won’t go away.
Uh…you wish, sugar.
I have silver nail polish.
I hate that dress. However, I have a different version of it–it’s all ready with striped pockets and a little Parisian scene running along the hem? So cute! But now I feel like I can’t wear it because it’s sister dress–this dress here that will not die–causes my own dress shame!
I think that this god awful thing may be the next in line…
I saw it in an (awful) store front a few weeks back, and it’s suddenly popping up on not-so-cute girls everywhere. Yesssssss.