Hello. I am here because retail therapy is not covered by my health insurance. Blue Cross should consider at least partially reimbursing me for my Amex bill because I don’t know any therapists in my network who make me feel as confident as a killer new pair of Louboutins. Honestly, I much prefer shopping to dissecting my childhood traumas. I buried that shit for a reason.
I know people are dying and this seems shallow. And you probably think I should spend less money. But I shouldn’t be penalized for my expensive taste; it’s not my fault I am allergic to cheap fabrics. That is a legitimate medical condition. I need at least two-ply cashmere or I break out in hives. No one questions when some kid has a peanut allergy. So get off my back.
One day you are buying whatever you want from Neiman Marcus and being invited to parties for Van Cleef & Arpels and the next you are furiously digging through the clearance bin in Marshalls trying to decipher their definition of “slightly irregular,” and it’s like, oh how the mighty have fallen. And I am not in the mood for a reality check. Reality bites. It’s right there in the movie title!
But I digress.
I need your help. Your generous donations will help keep American Express and their unruly band of collection agents off my back so I can live to see another month and maybe show my face in Bergdorf’s without the SWAT team breaking down my door. I am in between jobs and I have a law degree to fall back on but I just cannot bring myself to practice if it means wearing those icky androgynous Hillary Clinton pantsuits. I know her suits are like Armani and Oscar de la Renta but they are still horrible.
So I would greatly appreciate if you could make a donation and keep me out of debtors’ prison because no one looks cute under fluorescent lighting. Orange may be the new black, but not with my dark hair and cool undertones. And quite frankly, I will be depressed when no one shows up for a conjugal visit.
And, if I’m being honest, I am on a bit of a time crunch because the spring runway clothes will soon be hitting the sales floors and Dior did some incredible sculptural dresses with these insane buckle boots that kind of look like they ripped off the Vivienne Westwood Pirate boots, but everyone in fashion copies so I think it’s okay. And there is this incredible Versace moto suit that Emily Ratajkowski wore on the runway. I know she is annoying with all her whining about being sexualized while walking her dog in what basically amounts to dental floss, but I think the moto outfit will look really amazing on me because at least two people told me that if you squint really hard and its dark out and possibly a bit foggy then I kind of look like Emrata.
Also I haven’t had carbs in forever, unless you count Frappuccinos and croissants for breakfast, which obviously, I do not. Nor should you.
And so, in sum, please consider donating to my cause and help pay my Amex bill. Then I can run it up again and I promise I will use all of my accumulated points for a worthy cause like a staycation at the Ritz. I figure if people can get paid for team-building shit and administering trust exercises (PS: you can fall into a crowd for free in a mosh pit) then maybe I can get paid for this. Thank you for your time and consideration.
