So Eighties

I’m all nostalgic today. Dreaming of the 80s and wearing shoulder pads – 2 sets. One set in the dress and one in my jacket. Oh yes. Spike heels and white fishnets. I hope everyone knows it’s ironic. Down here they do but am worried about venturing up to midtown later for drinks – will they get it or will they think I am a Russian hooker again? You may laugh, but it happened after the Martha Graham Dance Gala evening at the Plaza.

Ah, nostalgia for the 80s and the wrinkle-free eyes of my teens, although I must admit they were heavily encased with purple shimmery goo. So nostalgic, in fact, that I nipped into Sephora for some wrinkle cream. Sure, I love everything that is lush for everywhere other than wrinkles. For those fuckers I want shit that’s been tested on baby wabbits and bambis. Sephora’s number one product for eyes by the way is some sort of eye lash gel – what the fuck? Who is buying this stuff? Everyone except me it would appear. Anyhow I am now fully stocked on Alpha Lipoic Acid treatments. Who knows what this means and what it will do but I think it will look good in my bathroom. It will say “Yes I am taking my aging seriously, thank you very much. Please wash your hands before you touch me.”