Being very predictable
If something has stripes, you can bet I will like it. And want it.
So, it follows I like this Poppet dress from her new summer collection, and want it.
More Poppet here.
PS: Poppet is the cutest name for a store. The owner also seems to be the cutest thing (aside from being a serious maker of darling clothes): she plays the banjo, particularly to her dog, and she rocks white socks with sandals. Yay!
It’s been a week…
Last Sunday Christian reported Lisa Simpson had fallen out the window. My plastic Kinder Egg Lisa Simpson, that I kept on top of my computer screen as a mascot (with the help of some white tack). I just love her: she is such an outspoken pain in the ass source of inspiration to me. So what if she’s a fictional cartoon character (fictional eh?).
Anyway, Lisa landed on a balcony a few floors below. And she’s still there. I check everyday. And everyday I grapple with the following dilemma.
Do I attempt to get her back? This is embarrassing on a few levels: I have to involve the building manager because I don’t know the number of the apartment she tumbled to. Since I intend to live in my apartment for a while longer, I’m not keen on suffering any plastic mascot history between me and building staff.
Do I write a little note and fabricate a harness with weights attached, and drop the note out my window to the same balcony, beckoning the occupant to drop Lisa Simpson in my mailbox? But the note could be whisked by a sudden gust of wind and end up on someone else’s balcony, where Lisa Simpson did not fall. Then he/she who read the note would think me a nut.
Or do I let it go and accept she will bring happiness to whoever lives on the seventh floor and has that giant balcony? Or be tossed in the bin (that’s a heartless option, but it could happen).
In the meantime, Christian promised he would replace her. He’d better start hitting the supermarket for those Kinder Eggs I say.
(Image is from here).
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