Look at me

Narrator from Batman (the old one)/Powerpuff girls,

More spoilt than week-old milk, more pompous than Kuzco, and bitchier than a purebred Persian feline, here comes Glamourpuss*…

*Henceforth, my uncontrollable platinum-plastic weilding alter ego shall be known as Glamourpuss. meooowww.

Lunch-time shopping, how we have missed thee.

Enter Zara- Spring Summer collezione..
Exit Zara- with super hot chocolate brown tube top.

Is it sexy? Yes. Is it revealing? Yes. Is it downright promiscuous? Yeah, maybe. But we likey, so we buy-ey. dang-da-da-dang-da-dang-da-dang. Can’t touch this!

Me: Hi mom, I’m just gongoozling around Zara for the outfit Ill wear to the Coldplay concert..so that they will look at me and pick me to go up to the stage.
Mom: Ai… another thousand dollars gone.
Me: No maa, won’t spend that much.. any suggestions are welcome.
Mom: Why don’t you wear something skimpy like a slip? That’ll get his attention.

Ah my mom.. I couldn’t be prouder. A little empathy goes a long way.We don’t ask that you emulate our lifestyle, we ask that you understand.

Over the past week, I have purchased three totally cute pairs of shoes-thanks to the opening of a new and incredibly affordable shoe-shop and a sale at one of my old favourites-
one brown suede peep-toe with blue taffeta ribbon
one red strappy wedge (with cute butterfly prints on the jute/raffia wedge)
one black suede block-heeled pump with pink-scalloped trimming and pink bowtie

I know what you’re thinking, “I don’t speak shoe”.. well you better start learning honey. GSS-The Great Singapore Sale, and it really is great in every sense of the word, is finally here and there are potloads of discounts to Amex-ers. Har Har Har.

This blog just got wayyyyy too girly.
Okay let me make it up to you- hammers, wrenches, hockey, rugby, huge boxer shorts, Die Hard, Rambo and Gatorade. There. Now we’re even.

The weekend was rather quiet. I ate a lot- nothing new about that… omlettes for breakfast, pavbhaji, daals, breaded fish n chips- been pms-ing, so the appetite’s haywire…
Studied a bit- sucked ass on the diagnostic GMAT test-I can’t do probability questions! Imagine! A’s in an engineering math courses, and I can’t figure out the probability of picking out a blue ball. GEEZ!

Moving on in typical spoilt and incoherent fashion, that is so typically Glamourpuss, I am plagued by a question of late. What will all the avenues like Gtalk, Orkut, Blogger profiles and other means of subtly broadcasting to all and sundry what you look like.. here’s my dilemma-
Should you choose a picture that looks better than you do, or worse?
If you choose worse, then noone will give you the time of the day, because let’s face it, we’re all shallow dimwits and noone wants to talk to frizzy-haired moleface.
If you choose better, then you’re a conniving bitch who’s bulding up expectations and should you meet one of these online peoples, they’re gonna realise that they’d have to look at you from a right profile view throughout the very long and painful dinner.

So I’m just wondering. I don’t have any photographer friends who’d love to make me look deviantly pretty by choosing the right angle, black-and-whiting the shots, sepia-ing the shots, *insert other psuedo-artsy-fartsy methods*. I hardly have any solo shots, and the ones I do are of touristy-Jups who for most part, looks like a girl with super-curly hair (I blame the humidity) exploding with overcoats and a camera. Just great.

I hate 97% of all my snaps- these are the ones where I look like I have a water retention problem, and were ALL taken on what I call “fat days”… The remaining 3% were either taken before the age of 17 (the underage babe days) or are unnaturally good due to some freakish stroke of luck, and by freakish luck, I really mean a) moonlight, b) profile view c) dainty hats d) all of the above.

So the question is, when it comes to display pictures, can you ever really be completely honest?

Glamourpuss, over and out.