Leave it to Rebecca Minkoff to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.
You guys, there I was on Friday, just minding my own business, tweeting my tweets, writing rap lyrics for my first album (which is actually just a bunch of CD-RW’s of L’Trimm's Grab It! with “Pizza’s Debut Album” written in sharpie), when lo and behold, a gift arrived for me from the queens of cool at Rebecca Minkoff: the Cooper Clutch.
As you can see, it’s a leather buckle beauty with rabbit hair trim. More like rad-bit hair, if you ask me. It’s the perfect Night Bag, because not only is it covered in fur—meaning it will never be like “Ugh I’m so cold, can I borrow your jacket? I’m just soooo cold”—but it’s big enough for a book. Too many Nite Timez bags are the size of my heart (which is historically small unless I’m looking at a pair of cool shoes), meaning it’s impossible to carry a book with you. You need a book if you’re going anywhere or no one will take you seriously and then you’ll never get a book deal or a modeling contract.
Look at moi: old Smarmageddon here. Wearing a plaid skirt suit with a fox fur collar by the sadly defunct (but maybe returning?) label ADAM by Adam Lippes. This is one of the kewlest sewts I own. Black Mickey sweatshirt from Dear Rivington.
Those Dalmatian boots are from Joe Fresh, which is a rad place if I’ve ever been to a rad place (which I have, natch). They look cool with everything. I got them a month ago and they don’t seem to be available online, but you know what? Stop trying to be like me. Stop trying to buy everything I have, or you won’t get invited to my Colonial Era Candle Making Party. And you really don’t want to miss this party—look at this photo from the last one:
Everyone was out of their mind on ecstasy, as you can see.