as me and merlynn sat under our void decks inhaling our mochi and drinking our cokes,
we thought of what it would be like to be successful.
we talked about how we all thought louis vuitton was for old aunties cos of the print. but in devil wears prada, the LV bag was so drop dead gorgeous.
we talked about walking around in jimmy choos, much like this one:
and swinging our marc jacobs:
inside our bags would be our vertus and our ferragamo wallets and our burberry shawls
and on our noses our dior sunnies and our fingers tiffany's or cartier (courtesy of boyfriend/husband/life partner)
while we dine al fresco at shangri-la's high tea and our other halves indulge in a round of golf at tanjong rhu.
buying branded products at an obviously overpriced value is like wearing pretty underwear:
it might be a bit uncomfortable but it makes you feel damn shiok.
