August, be good to me.

It’s nearly 11am here in Toronto and today I’m off work until 5pm. I had quite the day yesterday: I bought crinoline and vintage watercolour rose skirt for $227.13. Now, I know, $227.13. It must be some skirt. It is, I kept praying in the elevator the that kids wouldn’t spill bright purple grape juice on it. Honestly, impulse purchases like that one stem from my envisioning the future. When I’m buying dresses I always ask myself if I could imagine myself opening a gallery or touring a museum in it. When I put that skirt on, in the new vintage shop that opened down the road, I felt it- that feeling of happiness success and elegance. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw: a writer, an artist, an inspiration. I went home felling regretful though, and I tried it on one more time. And the feeling was there again – success, happiness, and elegance. 

I can afford it, but it’s a ridiculous purchase, so tomorrow I’m returning it. For today though, I’m going to sway in it and bask in the moment I haven’t experienced yet: opening my gallery, displaying my work. 

For today, I’ll be Carrie Bradshaw.


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