Glam Party Revisited

i showed up at the glamour party eventually, despite the madness at work that trailed prior to the party. it's all about not wanting the person that means a lot to you, to feel let down by your failure to show up.

i followed up with an e-mail to both dora and david (the turnips, a conglomerate of both surnames: turner and yip)

Subject: hollywood schmollywood party

Dear The Turnips,

I must thank the both of you again for the advice dispensed regarding what to wear for the Glam Party last week.

After much harassment and frustrations that befell upon me at work last Friday, I eventually made it to the party at around 10pm.

I came dressed up in my pointed leather shoes, old torn blue jeans, big buckled metal brass belt, black fitted long sleeved shirt and a formal evening jacket (t’was Hugo Boss no less).

The host did ask me this: "So which old Hollywood doyen are u?"

To which my reply was: "Forgive me for the lack of decorum but I am here as my namesake, Dean, Mr James Dean. Dean is all dressed as a rebel without a cause that he has always meant to be, in a pair of jeans and pointed leather boots, but still polite enough to grace the host’s event by putting on a formal jacket."

Tis’ lovely to have a sudden and last minute fashion genius lightning to strike you when all else seems bleak and hopeless.

Lovely,

dean