Went to a dinner the other night. I was the youngest one there, minus the offspring of one of the hosts. One of the topics of discussion: astrology. Someone brought the book "Sextrology: Astrology of Sex and the Sexes" to the table. I don't take everything into heart, but when I read about the Cancer woman a lot of it was on point. To sum me up; both a homemaker and party girl. Seemingly a train wreck, but actually pretty stable. I'm domestic and destructive. I think I agree with all of the above.
You get this many chances, but I'll make you believe you get none.
Cancer women; Frida Kahlo. Carly Simon. Linda Ronstandt. Janet Leigh.
Bathroom floors. Backseats. Actually, a bed will do.
Shalom Harlow. A classic.
Bedtime stories. I read enough legal books in college that now I just want to look at pretty things.
Apartment 203. The wildest of the bunch. Lobby plant destroyer.
Abbey Lee Kershaw. What a dime.
Inventory. Sales reports. This fashion aint all about looking good. Got to get these numbers right.
Once upon a time I was blond and smarter. Now I have bad hair days almost everyday and let my heart do all the talking. Get it together.
Giving pants a chance. And flats too. Opening Ceremony. Thinking about it.
One of my greatest best friends. He laughs when I puke, he might even take footage of it.
Pine Street. I hate it now, but will love it when I'm gone.
Six Nine Teen. Art and shit. Walks and shit. Fire hazards and no wine.
Ivy League. Natalie Portman. Beauty and brains.
There is no other remedy than a pair of fabulous shoes. These shoes were made for disco and dancing. Thanks Naomi B. for the lovely care package.
Tim Gunn said it best, "make it work".
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