In the Waiting Room

I want this haircut. Now.


During the end of last week and the beginning of this one I spent some time in the waiting room of a much esteemed doctor of psychology. Not for the reason you would normally think. This delightful fellow and his staff perform thorough evaluations of children with issues and Il Duce was there for his full battery of tests. As he floated in on his manufactured angel wings and put on his halo to confuse and charm the entire staff, I had spare hours to spend in the highly uncomfortable waiting room catching up on my magazine reading. I cannot tell you the last time I indulged in a fashion magazine. They always seemed so superficial after I had three kids, I mean, I barely had time to find a semi clean tee-shirt and new underwear. Who has time for all those rules, quick changes in style, heavy baubles and shoes that hurt?

Naturally, the first shiny fashion mag I picked up was Vogue, clearly deferring to the all-knowing genius that is Anna Wintour. While I HATE the number of annoying ads in her publication, I do like her photo spreads and cutting edge ensemble choices. I also think lightning shoots from her eyes and fingertips when she becomes enraged, but that’s another story entirely.

Vogue took me about an hour to page through and then I cleansed my palette with several gossip rags that I’m addicted to. Next in line was ELLE with Katie Holmes Cruise on the cover. First let me say that aside from her clearly dead eyes and half-smile, she looks fabulous. The orange dress, the statuesque figure and finally that KILLER haircut. This is coming with me the next hair appointment I have and I am demanding this adorable style.

This is something I will not be investing in. Nice idea though.

Now I can’t say that I felt entirely good about myself after all that eye candy and mind-blowing dress up fun but I did feel as though it was time to start moving toward the quantum leap that was going to be necessary to get me to where I could measure up to the average gal on the street. My own personal fashion apocalypse you might call it.

Proenza Schouler, I can get behind this WITHOUT the sock.

First I need to work on amassing the small fortune that is clearly needed for such an undertaking, but I am willing to settle for the baby steps . A much-needed cut and color ( to rid myself of unsightly grey) takes precedence over all other things and then we can talk about leaps and bounds.


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Filed under 1, doctors waiting room, ELLE, fashion magazines, Vogue

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