As I was walking through West Fest... I noticed that a brand new vintage store had opened up just a few doors down from me- which, a) is awesome, and b) is terrible... you know, for my wallet and all, considering my penchant for dresses and the fact that I really shouldn't be buying anything until I get rid of the shit ton of clothes I need to get rid of.
I try on several super cute dresses... the cutest of all being a glorious, glorious, glorious Chloe dress- which is so mod, and gorgeous, and just like, my freaking dream dress. It's navy blue, with like, a cute sailor type neckline with ruffles and a tie thingy hanging down, and ruffles on the hemline! And the skirt part is tight and the top part is blousy, which is like, my favorite dress cut ever... It is everything I have ever dreamed about in a dress and more, and it fit perfectly.
And it was only 100 dollars. 100 dollars! For vintage couture! For fucking glorious, Lagerfeld era Chloe. Not See by Chloe. Chloe. Motherfucking Chloe for 100 dollars. Could you just die?
But then the salesgirl tells me... there's a reason it's only 100 dollars...
And on the ass, there are like, weird greyish faded areas. I couldn't even wear it at night.
Not fair. Not even a little bit fair. Very few things in my life have been less fair.
But there is hope! I have heard of a magical tailors/cleaners place on Oak St. that can supposedly work miracles. I'm going to call them tomorrow and see if there is anything they can do about it.
A girl can always dream, right?