Bad move on my part, wearing my towering platform boots to work on the day when BOTH elevators malfunction and have to be closed. But my goodness I looked fabulous while slowly taking on those flights of stairs one careful step at a time.
Other such sacrifices for fashion include: false nails that are sure to pop off the moment I attempt to open a car door, cinching corsets that restrict my airways, vintage clip on earrings that beg beg me to scream bloody murder, and liquid eyeliner determined to make into way into my iris in an obvious effort to cause blindness. (Seriously, Eyeliner, who do you think you are kidding?)
I haven’t even begun to mention the burning and bleaching and poisoning and slicing I do to my poor locks of hair. But my goodness this new shade of strawberry blonde looks FABULOUS in curls, does it not?
What about you? What rituals of torture do you practice in the name of fashion?