Mad About Marc
Anyone who knows me or rather see me online would know my latest madness. Now before I get to that, I have to say that of late, I am have morphed into a madbag monster that basically go berserk when you talk about a new bag and maybe to a certain extend I am. Perhaps I am trying to get over the Anya bag or maybe I am just looking for the next high. Shopping addiction is no different with meth, both requiries you to spend and throw away your life.
However, I think it is more of a shield to my current shitty life. I can't wait to get out from my agency and it's just less than a month more to go. Already shits are everywhere. Yesterday's supposedly glamourous shoot ended up till late at night and the results were appaling. Client hates them and I am about to see them in an hour time to try and salvage it to avoid a reshoot. It's always so much fabulous on TV or America's Next Top Model isn't it? well to a certain extend it is. Big set, fabulous studio, VVIP treatment and models running left and right with their stylist and hairdresser. Oh well...
Anyway, I am much Marc excite as my sister is now in New York and there's actually a special item store (meaning designer for less) there that sell fab Marc stuff for like next to nothing. Sure, KL has a boutique but hey please sack the buyer. They only stock handbags for 50 year old woman. Nothing funky and nothing fun at all. Before you go Jacobs me, Marc for those who doesn't know is the man behind Louis Vuitton's graffiti bag (remember?) and the cherry blossom shit LV bag. He has his own label and all I can afford is his sublabel stuff called Marc by Marc Jacobs. He's pure genuis.
I am so dying to get my hands on many of those funky t shirts (unisex btw) and some of his totes (canvas as well) as well. Esp the one he did for Pam Am. It's a fabulous vintage look flight carrier bag that is just so glam. If you are interested to see them, go to his website and click under special items. Sorry, can't be arsed to put the pictures here. At least I know for sure there won't be alot of Jinjang Janes and Ghetto Girls carrying Marc around. The closest to Jacobs that they know is probably the crackers.
That bitch sister of mine better get me some Marc love or you will be hearing from me on this.
However, I think it is more of a shield to my current shitty life. I can't wait to get out from my agency and it's just less than a month more to go. Already shits are everywhere. Yesterday's supposedly glamourous shoot ended up till late at night and the results were appaling. Client hates them and I am about to see them in an hour time to try and salvage it to avoid a reshoot. It's always so much fabulous on TV or America's Next Top Model isn't it? well to a certain extend it is. Big set, fabulous studio, VVIP treatment and models running left and right with their stylist and hairdresser. Oh well...
Anyway, I am much Marc excite as my sister is now in New York and there's actually a special item store (meaning designer for less) there that sell fab Marc stuff for like next to nothing. Sure, KL has a boutique but hey please sack the buyer. They only stock handbags for 50 year old woman. Nothing funky and nothing fun at all. Before you go Jacobs me, Marc for those who doesn't know is the man behind Louis Vuitton's graffiti bag (remember?) and the cherry blossom shit LV bag. He has his own label and all I can afford is his sublabel stuff called Marc by Marc Jacobs. He's pure genuis.
I am so dying to get my hands on many of those funky t shirts (unisex btw) and some of his totes (canvas as well) as well. Esp the one he did for Pam Am. It's a fabulous vintage look flight carrier bag that is just so glam. If you are interested to see them, go to his website and click under special items. Sorry, can't be arsed to put the pictures here. At least I know for sure there won't be alot of Jinjang Janes and Ghetto Girls carrying Marc around. The closest to Jacobs that they know is probably the crackers.
That bitch sister of mine better get me some Marc love or you will be hearing from me on this.
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