Ik haat pansies, muurbloemen die slechts vanaf de muur vallen wanneer zij zien iets sterker zij zich willen vastklampen aan, om hen te steunen.

Boring bloesems als dat worden die weg in een dag eck worden geworpen.

De enige bloemen die ik zijn als de zwarte rozen op deze heb gehouden van Corsage van Alexander McQueen sandals. Zo smartly gevormd, zo zorgvuldig gestructureerd, maken de kleine donkere wolken van unieke schoonheid deze schoenenwerkgever van Alexander McQueen. In tegenstelling tot copycats en kattige huisvrouwen, konden zich de rozen gemakkelijk op hun bevinden.

De wijd gesloten ogen, veronderstellen:

De rozen zouden maken grote pasteien, juist?

» Corsage van Alexander McQueen sandals $1.124, Net-a-Porter.com

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Dit Brooch van Iren van Chloe is hoe een chef- dame zou moeten stileren: alle slimme lijnen en bepaalde vormen, al scherp schitteren en zuiver maagdelijk wit.

Welke eraan herinnert me-dit zou brooch van Chloe Iren ook groot omhoog werken te spelden dat rok van van u, die enkel uw knieën raakt.

Omdat als een dame, dit brooch van Chloe Iren het krijgt:

Het leven is kort. Uw rok zou, ook moeten zijn.

» Brooch van Iren van Chloe $615, Net-a-Porter.com

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Verlaat uw Chanel thuis, reislicht aan uw vakantiepartij compact:

Uw de mobiel geld, munt, foelie, en drie condoms plooien in a Ted Rossi koppeling, wikkelt een strook van een zilver.

Use the mirror metallic leather to triple-check yourself as often as you like, without anyone knowing.

And you should–you look hot, even better than the dude you’re dancing with.

So ditch him, and you and Ted Rossi have a quick bit of fun by yourselves in the bathroom.

» Ted Rossi clutch $325, Vivre.com

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“Hi, may I speak with Kristopher?”

“This is she,” I say, waiting for the usual–

“Oh! Oh… I thought–”

“That I was a gay man?”

“Heh heh! Well,” he says, “I saw your site and the photo and I figured it was stock photography, and then, you know, that part of your site that says, ‘SEX’ in all caps, that didn’t seem like something typically a girl would write.”

“I’m not typical. And though I’m flattered you thought I was a random model, does that mean you also thought the Kristopher behind all these dirty words was a fat man who likes it on his stomach?”

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Life is less drudging through democracy and more aspiring to aristocracy. Life is pulling yourself above the mess of the masses. Life is besting the rest in your own way: maybe you’re a baroness of business, a princess of pop, maybe–

You just give great brain.

So sash yourself with this gold, jeweled Oscar de la Renta belt. Sun-king satin lifts your everywoman, (house)wife beater into a queenly state, dainty chains lock down your confidence, and topaz tiles would shine nice on you naked, as you play courtesan in your couture.

Really.

Your boy’ll be inspired to worship the queen that king’ed him

» Oscar de la Renta belt $540, Vivre.com

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With Halloween hung over, it’s time to prep presents for Kwanzanukkah, to play selfless, to –

Gift those who gift you richly the best.

It’s just good business.

But before your buying spree, invest in a something for yourself, like these two-tone bowed Christian Louboutin shoes. All boss black and serious satin, these Christian Louboutin shoes bow-tie yourself into your own gift.

The ambitious arch will have you watch your walk into your meeting.

And kill it.

» Christian Louboutin shoes with bow $925, Net-a-Porter

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Halloween is all about:

Goth glam and black fun.

Getting a spell on.

Dressing more slutty than usual.

Which would be hard, without these Jimmy Choo boot shoes called “Spell.”

Happy Halloween, lovelies.

XXXO,
K

» Jimmy Choo boot sling-backs $1,200, Net-a-Porter.com

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Better to be a whore than a housewife:

One’s all fair trade and freedom, and the other’s a leash in the form of a shared bank account.

One’s all love making and passion, and the other is baby breeding punctuated with a yawn.

One’s all fuck-you Brian Atwood shoes in mad red, and the other is I - haven’t - been - fucked - in - five - months terrycloth slippers stained with dull decaf drip from a chipped mug.

Shudder.

» Brian Atwood shoes $526, Net-a-Porter.com

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The Devil styled himself a snake to tempt Eve to eat from the Tree of Knowledge.

I slip on this double snake Boucheron ring myself and go sip from the Starbucks of Los Angeles.

As for sharing anything sinfully delish with an Adam–

The dick was a pussy.

» Boucheron ring $2,450, Vivre.com

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I hear my glossy iPhone make its old school ring, and I smile at the blocked number calling, and I answer: “What are you wearing, pool boy?”

“How excited are you about those toys you got in the mail?” asks The Boy.

I finger the blush-pink packaging from Booty Parlor, lying on my desk. “Not as excited as I was before I used them.”

“Already?” asks The Boy. “Did you light candles and have a glass of wine?”

“Of course,” I say. “But within five minutes I grabbed my tits. So then I slapped myself. I said, ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

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“I just got a bra that’ll make my tits a whole cup bigger!” I sing into my iPhone, talking to The Boy, my boy. “It’s so boss!”

“How many times did you go to Starbucks today?” he asks.

“Only three,” I say. “Anyway, this bra will satisfy me until I break into my IRA to fund my future Botox addiction.” I watch my face in a mirror, and my brows wrinkle at a shadow of a crease I find framing my smile. “That’s really what my retirement stash is for, because the motherfucking Lord knows I’ll be in my death bed, working, wordsmithing dirty stories while giving you a blow job.”

“I’ve always admired your ambition.”

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There’s something boss about a Louis Vuitton bum bag.

The Louis logo brags European chic to balance the bum bag’s timeless tourist vibe, to equal classic style.

Like getting mugged in New York’s Times Square, or, similarly–

Getting fucked up the ass.

» Louis Vuitton bum bag $710, eLUXURY

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I’m lying in my dentist’s chair, and from my lofty vinyl seat Hollywood’s hills look like the rolling green of a miniature golf course–until my eyes slide wide shut to soft black, and my mouth opens to take in The Doctor’s hands. He numbs the bottom half of my face so it’s virtually paralyzed, while my mind frolics free.

I dream up a bow-shaped fanny pack that can fit an iPhone and keys and a book, maybe The Great American Novel I must birth, whose theme might be luck, same as my conversation with The Boy last night:

“I’m getting my gums done tomorrow,” I said. “My entire front lower mouth. So I’ll be living off soy lattes for a couple weeks, and no blow jobs for a few days.”

“I guess I’ll be busy for a few days,” said The Boy.

I echo his laughter with a giggle only interrupted by The Boy’s crackling voice:

“Fuck,” he said. “I want a streak of good luck.”

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A little bit country club, a little bit rock n’ roll.

A lotta bit boss.

And discounted.

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This Givenchy shoe is how sex should style: playfully tough, smartly erotic, equal parts femme submission and masculine domination.

And like sex, this Givenchy shoe’s success lies in its details: an extra thick cover-up exaggerates a peep show of a peep toe, the tiny polished studs drip wet-like over a beautiful skin, and a sumptuous arch is inspired by something long and hard and–

Maybe I should stop watching porn between writing dirty love letters to you.

» Givenchy shoes $535, Barneys.com

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