BD

I await tomorrow with bated breath.

No, seriously. Tomorrow will determine if my recent streak of unbelievably bad luck is at its end. I hope it is, in fact, I don't see why it shouldn't have ended with Friday.

Anyway, it dawned on me today that the reason why the cookhouse cooks such shit food is that most people have shit taste buds. I suppose after a while, even the most spirited cook becomes disillusioned.

Other news, Aesops has sold out the scrub that I wanted to get. Mother has laid a wager that Aesops will go the way of Vincent Longo from so many years back but I refuse to believe it. Spoilt young things of Singapore unite! We need to ensure that such a lovely brand doesn't go with a whimper. (Hell, we let Galarie Lafayette die on us. Ok, admittedly, the French having invented the department store decided then that it was perfected in 1930s and even in Paris, departmental shopping is really quite awful.)

Also, I am beginning to see some nice things on the runway but in a season when even Prada has decided to go bazooka, I think I'll just throw in my towel and wait for the fall collection. Paris had better be good. No weird avant garde crap unless it's actually wearable stuff made to look like weird avant garde crap like what they do at John G and JPG.

Westwood was dead ten years ago. We really should bring back Schiaparelli and forget about trying to revive Halston. Heck, disco won't ever be back, but whimsy will.

Whatever, I'm just going to take a good shower and meditate on the virtues of bias cut.

C'est tout.