The Hedonistic Pleasureseeker

These Coach peep toe pumps, perfectly tailored and comfortable (for heels), retailed at $250.

At DSW they were $170, STILL too much for this fashionista to pay. Unless they’re couture I won’t pay over $100 for any pair of shoes, ever. But DSW put this pair in the back room at 70% off so I grabbed them, put them on my feet and danced around screaming MINE MINE MINE! OK I didn’t really scream, but I did dance a little. Plus I had a $10 gift certificate, bringing the total price down to

$24 !!!

Labels or Love by Fergie

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
Shopping for labels, shopping for love
1, 2
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
1, 2, 3 Turn the lights on.

I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
I shop for purses while love walks out the door
Don’t cry, buy a bag and get over it
And, I’m not concerned with all the politics
It’s a lot of men I know I could find another.

What I know is that I’m always happy when I walk out the store, store
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy, nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him, tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

[Chorus]
Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more?
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for?
Let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more.
1, 2, 1, 2, 3, Turn the lights on.

I know I might come off as negative
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
Relationships are often so hard to tame
A Prada dress has never broken my heart before
And, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with
I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing
Cause I know that my credit card will help me put out the flames
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy, nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him, tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses, purchasing them finer things
Men they come a dime a dozen, just give me them diamond rings
I’m into a lot of bling, Cadillac, Chanel and Coach
Fellas boast but they can’t really handle my female approach
Buying things is hard to say
Rocking Christian Audigier, Manolo, Polo, taking photos in my Cartier
So we can’t go all the way, I know you might hate it but
I’m a shop for labels while them ladies lay and wait for love

[Chorus]
Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more?
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for?
Let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more.
1, 2, 1, 2, 3, Turn the lights on.

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
Shopping for labels, shopping for love
1, 2
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
1, 2, 3 Turn the lights on.

It worked when I was a kid, and it still works today:  A bowl of ice cream and a bubble bath in the dark makes the mean old crabbies go bye bye.  It’s the perfect thing to do before bed. All better now!

There is something about this predatory dress that screams TOO MUCH COUGAR TRYING TOO HARD!!! Back to the boutique it goes . . . good thing I didn’t take off the tags . . .

Lesson for the Day: NEVER shop for clothes if you are sexually aroused AND have bad PMS. What was I thinking?

My last Matching Martini Madness post featured a favorite nightgown I acquired during my Ebay fixation of 2007. It seems to be from the 1960’s or 1970’s, though it’s hard to tell because there is no label.

I love it because the lace is so lavish and deep, and because it’s so soft. This kind of quality is hard to find outside of very high end lingerie shops. However, I bet that when this nightgown was new it was both 1) union made, and 2) reasonably priced. They really don’t make things like they used to, do they?

Can you tell my old camera is dying? I might be kittyprinted out. Let’s see: Kittyprint nightgown, robe slippers and blanket, with matching cat. Yup, my kittyprint collection is probably complete.

It was a perfect day today: No work, blue sky, poofy clouds, warm breeze. It was a shorts and sandals day and I made the most of it: By sleeping until noon (11 hours sleep total) and shopping the rest of the day.

That’s right: I totally blew an opportunity to 1) do my homework and 2) play in my garden, all for the sake of personal errands and a 50% off sale at DSW. Shame on me!

I’ll do better tomorrow I promise: I’m very, very VERY well rested!

(Massimo Baldi ponyhair pump, Italy. Maybelline Wet Shine in Juicy Tomato)

I have a few weaknesses when it comes to clothes shopping:

1. The color white: When will I ever learn?

2. Linen: Since when do I iron, come on.

3. Lingerie: Honestly, join a 12 step program already; sweet Jeebuz on a cracker, damn!

4. Ponyhair kittyprint footwear. It’s so fragile, but I fall for the softness and the kittyspots every time.

Oh well: At least I’ve succeeded in giving up pantyhose and Dry Clean Only!

You just CAN’T make this shit UP!  Eight Belles must have been confused, poor horsey:  She was supposed to run for the ROSES, not the White House!

My sympathies to women and horses everywhere but the association was just too perfect to leave alone.  Mark my words there WILL be a woman in the White House someday, but please Goddess NOT THIS ONE.  Forget The Queen; we need a Joan of Arc!

Found at Heathens Online. “Love it!”

Ward took Bunny out of town for the weekend so I’m child free!

I was up late last night 1) painting my toenails bright red and 2) organizing my Apocalypse Pantry, otherwise known as the closet in the master bedroom: My little walk-in closet that’s still stuffed to the gills with my clothes. What will I do with it all? I have no idea; buy a rack, I give up. Practically none of it fits anyway because of the boobage, so I need to just bite the bullet and admit that another Goodwill run is in order.

It’s frustrating: Rather than get me back into my wardrobe, last year’s liposculpt on my back and waist changed my shape so dramatically that my clothes don’t fit me anyway. My waist-to-hip ratio is good (about .75) but that’s because for the first time in my life I actually have real hips. That I was able to give birth to Bunny in 1992 without a C-section was a miracle - thank Goddess she was a preemie! I had 34 inch hips back then.

So, basically this means none of my tailored business suits fit me anymore. I’d go shopping for new clothes but 1) I’m on fashion strike; 2) I refuse to buy any more clothes made with sweatshop labor, which means 3) I can’t afford what I like and want, and 4) I spent all my money on these cases of canned food anyway. I have a few knits and my (adjustable, yay) wrap dresses, so they will have to do for now. I suppose I’ll wear my green dress today!

I think I’ve just lost my mind but you know what? It’s okay because the economy is in a tailspin and the worldwide food shortage is real. Not only is the price of food skyrocketing due to inflation and drought, but if the economy collapses and/or gas goes up to $4 or $5 per gallon there will be supply chain problems by summertime. Truckers are already quitting in droves because they can no longer turn a profit. Since I’m partial to organic and gluten-free foods, foods that are already hard to find, I figure I’d better stock up now.

You should also think about this: Do you really want to be fighting with some old lady over the last bruised banana this September? I sure don’t! I’d get my ass kicked! I’ll stay home and bake gluten-free bread instead.

I’m convinced that certain animal prints trigger a reaction in the limbic system, that ancient part of the human nervous system that ruled our cave dwelling ancestors. Perhaps it’s just an adrenaline response creating the sense of danger, but one way or another the witness is put on notice: A predator lurks.

I can’t decide which of the below stilettos I like the best. Scorpio likes the white ones. What do you think? One would think I had enough ponyhair predator shoes but please understand: I don’t have kittyprint d’orsay peep toes! It’s an important distinction!

At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I must have lost my mind. But you know what? I kind of like it.

I was at Bed, Bath and Beyond last month and encountered a few remnants of this pattern in a corner on a bottom shelf, on clearance. I saw the pink mules on the shower curtains and lost my mind: I had to have them. It was time to redecorate the Master Bath!

As things turned out I already had most of the other decorator bits around the house so I moved them all in, and as you can see the result is ultra-girly. Actually it looks kind of like a French bordello. Now my Spa Days will be extra decadent!

I had no idea the little mules on the shower curtain would be decorated with real maribou. Aren’t they cute?

The Hedonistic Pleasureseeker is playing hooky today. She has several important Things to Do, the details of which shall forever remain a secret.