Welcome Home Isabel

I know you're all probably thinking I scored the Red Poppy Pumps from last week's post.  Alas they still evade me, but I am tracking down a couple leads.  They don't call me Inspector Shoeseau for nothing (remember that one?).  In the meantime, however, I must reveal how it is that I reapproached the search with new vigor.  About a month ago, after once again professing my undying love for Isabel Marant's designs, I received an invite to a private sale where none other than some of you know what was being featured.

Confession:  I almost declined.  What if I got there and even the sale price was just too far out of reach causing me to spiral out of control into a mad depression?  I mean a girl's gotta weigh the odds.

Thankfully common sense took hold and I threw caution to the wind tossing my disheveled mop into a ponytail, donning my favorite fishnet sweater (seen here), a simple tank, some leggings and a pair of military boots to brave the unknown.  Hot damn I was on my way!  However by the time I arrived there was barely anyone left.  My heart sank.  Thoughts raced through my head:  "Why hadn't I come earlier?  There are things I recognize from the runway!  *cue whimpering* Why did I drag my feet?  Thank God I'm wearing a bunch of my faves or I'd really feel like hell. Why did I initially give into fear?  Oh look at that leather vest.  Too bad it's probably too big.  Oh that dress is cute.  Crap there aren't any of the red shoes.  Or the sequin pants.  What is wrong with me?  Wait a hot minute that vest's my size."

Pause.  Retrace steps.

Wait a hot minute.  That vest is my size.

I look to my left and then right.  There's got to be something wrong with it.  It's the best thing in this room and none of these crazy women are even looking at it.  Before someone can shank me and run off with my treasure I gently remove it from the rack, saunter over to the mirror barely breathing with hope and sheer giddiness over holding a piece from a designer that is a dream of mine, slip the vest on and immediately tear up.  I'm not lying.  I could feel the waterworks coming.  You don't understand - or maybe you do - I just love her clothing and it was a moment I really didn't know would ever happen.  But it did.  And they told me a bunch of people had wanted the vest, but NO ONE could fit in it.  Hollar!! Some things are meant to be. 

There it is.  Sometimes I just open the closet to look at it.  Yep it's still there.  Close.

Look at it up close.  Okay go lie down now.  Okay look again.  Rinse and repeat.

Look at her (she's a girl) shoulder pads.

No seriously.  LOOK!  okay sorry I'm still a little worked up...

But can you blame me?  Please say no.  This is the look of elation. 
Dreams really do come true!
I almost had to send the Chef to get depends - for the car ride home.

Outfit details:  Isabel Marant-Leather Vest, James Perse-Cashmere Thermal, Martin+Osa-Skinny Denim, Ash-Boots, Tom Ford-Sunnies