Rosemary Mac Cabe

Hemlines, heels and haute couture – your daily dose

Ooh, baby, I think I’m in love with you

It’s when you start quoting Jessica Simpson songs that you know something is missing from your life. Something crucial, something vital, something that would take the pain away and numb the horrors of seeing grown women – grown women – …

Wed, Jul 28, 2010, 10:30

   

It’s when you start quoting Jessica Simpson songs that you know something is missing from your life. Something crucial, something vital, something that would take the pain away and numb the horrors of seeing grown women – grown women – walk around wearing Crocs as if there’s nothing wrong with this. Word to the wise: there is. Something very wrong, more wrong, in fact, than knowing the words to a Jessica Simpson song. What’s my point?

Ah, yes, love, an emotion I usually reserve for footwear; handmade leather satchels; brunch in Avoca (Odessa, you say? Nice, but no great shakes – I’ll stick with my Wicklah faithful); True Blood or, more specifically, the opening credits to said TV programme; and photographs of cute animals or kittens in hats.

But now – NOW, how the tables of life have turned! Instead of feeling warm, fuzzy feelings for food and items of fashion, I am feeling them for a man. A MAN! More accurately, this man:

Oh no, hang on, perhaps that’s not love, perhaps it’s lust, and perhaps I can now come off my high horse about men, Gisele and GQ. Then again, perhaps I shall hop off it temporarily, clean the drool from my chin, and get back on in a few days.

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