Once upon a time, in the land of white floors and glass walls called Topshop, a lady timidly strolled its tracts perusing apparel racks in search of a catalyst.
Life in the realm of style, or perhaps the need to increase rapport with garb and sense; a change in pace, was in dire need of an upper. Eyes gravitated to a garment with shy sparkle and modest composition, who would’ve thought it’d turn out to be one lucky top?
This happened over a year and an almost perfect game ago. Batting average is about 99.9% and I have to say that it’s fantastic that it doesn’t take a Konami code (it’s the up-up-down-down-left-right-left-right-b-a-b-a-select-start thing you do on a game — pre-PS3 / Xbox / Wii era) to finish the game, heck, you don’t even have to do anything.
Pure luck. That’s what I call it. It’s not the mastery of winks and eye-lock over the rim of your drink. It’s not the coy wordplay or the sensory mosh. It’s the top (or maybe the hair played a part, haha) commandeering the game.
It sets things in motion. Presents an uncomplicated statement why it’s worn, where it’s worn. A dodge, a ruse, a machination that tickles the faculties of sight and, if equally lucky enough, touch.
The beans: adorable mixtapes and exchanges with strangers; meeting the same person multiple times in one night; solicited invites to rock concerts, coffee, night caps, et.al.; and that endearing moment when he would run after you as you exit the club — only to have them question why truancy matches the batting average.
Top, Topshop; Sunnies, Mango; Earrings, PRP; Lip Makeup, Laura Mercier + CoverGirl
Though I know it’d still look awesome the morning after, I’d rather keep regrets and statistical significance low.
Oh, rock it. Not because it makes you look hip and a darling. Sweetie, it wasn’t meant to be cute. It’s anything but cute.
P.S. If the crux of the post wasn’t lost on you, I sure hope you’re old enough to know how to make the right choices. Otherwise, NEXT, haha.