After coming to the realization that I have far too much free time, I digress. Then, I reach for my studs, spikes, autre accoutrements. Oh, luxury, thy name is hardware. I gaze at my Veronica Slouch Boot by Frye (circa last fall, equestrian, duh.) She thinks, I'm poor, yet too discerning to wear this irrelevant boot come fall2009. The look is punk, not polo.
She cuts off 12 inches of gorgeously distresses cognac leather with fabric scissors. Wince. Waterproofs the virgin, exposed edge with a clear coat of Essie. She chooses her hardware and her Veronica's have transcended all that is obsolete . Now, where is my broad shouldered blazer and harem pant...
