I love those little bitches who you think are your friends and then turn around and stab you in the back.
That's immediently what I thought when I first started reading magazines.
Personally, I thought I'd be opening up mini-fashion bibles when I started reading Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Teen Vogue, Elle, etc. But then I realized that half of them end up just being half fashion, half other random stuff, and half celebrity gossip. And yes, these magazines do have three halves. I was a little disappointed with this, because really. I want to see fashion on the covers of these magazines, not a bunch of celebrity women trying to make themselves sound good during the interviews.
Is that really all that fashion is now? Something to wear on the red carpet? Yes? No? Because I was under the impression that it was supposed to have to do with the whole 'self expression' mumbo-jumbo. Wearable art, that can interperted by whomever and translated into their own style. But now it's just become a mosh pit of which celebrity is wearing whose clothes, and whether or not it flatters their Photoshopped and airbrushed bodies. Because that wasn't what I originally thought.
Alright, that's enough with my ranty ranty time. Now I'm going to browse through photographs of Christian Dior (bye bye, Galliano) and Malandrino's Fall collections, because they make me happy.
I'm planning on getting back into this blog, so stay tuned for updates.