Last Friday I had a colossal craving. I was craving for chocolate brownies, apple strudels, Ladurée Marie Antoinette macarons and anything that transcended a thousand calories. My stomach rumbled in synonymous agreement with my head (whilst typing this my stomach growled again, literally no joke) as I traipsed past the charcuterie that congested with delicacies. How could one not succumb to the temptations of diving straight for that glazed doughnut? Or that crème brûlée? Or that tiramisu? I swallowed my saliva to acutely clear my throat. I then decided to head for another type of diaphaneity.
Truth is, I was coveting more for arm parties.
With the indispensable love and (yet another) (actually in retrospect, it's the pioneer) influence from the Man Repeller, I couldn't help but to savour them despite actually relishing for something ingestible. One occasion brought me to the reminiscent of my boho (albeit more hobo instead) bracelet when someone onced remarked: 'Why are you always wearing this?' It was tri-coloured, - think lights of traffic, in hues of vermillion, amber and pine - each colour represented a beaded chain that is fastened together securely with a noir thin, yet taut string that performs a drawstring action. It was so dainty, yet so grandiose. I admired it as it gently lounged on my arm. And in that moment, we were, literally, infinite.
But I'd soon realized that au courant object was not perching on my wrist; instead it was on a friend of mine. He threw me a grotesque look as soon as he realized that I was carnally gazing at him (that was what he thought, the truth is I wasn't carnally gazing at him, it was the thing on his wrist) .
'What are you looking at?' he retorted.
I snapped out from my moment. I was lost in bewilderment. Omg, did he just steal my bracelet? I didn't know he practiced black magic, neither did I know he had (and least expected) an akin penchant for arm parties. I tried to wrench the delicate object out of his wrist. He was stupefied, then showed a little resistance by shoving my head towards the direction of my feet. That was when I really snapped out from my reverie. That accoutrement isn't mine, but I'm definitely going to accrue it.
'How much would that cost if I were to buy it off your hand' I asked politely (trying not to come off as an insane bitch that almost tried to
He was dumbfounded, and I guess it took him approximately ten seconds to wake up from his consciousness and clarify with me once more. I was affirmative. I knew I had to have that bracelet off his arms and onto mine. It needed to coalesce with me. I was willing to forsake almost anything for that (I was a little rash, so I will take that back).
Surprisingly, he was almost enthusiastic in selling it to me (albeit probably he wanted to get this whole situation done and over with and never want to actually bump into me ever again). I only paid five dollars for it. It was one of the best (second hand) buy till date.
There's this adage that goes 'Accessories are like the cherry to the cake' (or icing to the cake?), which definitely have been ubiquitously used and abused when it comes to impulsive acquirement. It no doubt complements and boosts an outfit, but don't you think that there's more than just plainly enhancing an outfit? Picture this: Sally (random name) chose to wear a plain formal, yet girly, white dress with heavy metal cuffs. So what exactly is she thinking? You don't know, because it's like a mystery. Every single piece of bracelet (or accessory) worn by different individuals can be interpreted differently. It's like spreading jelly onto a peanut butter sandwich, a cream cheese sandwich or nutella coated sandwhich.
You get the idea yeah?
So instead of spreading jelly onto sandwiches, we're spreading arm accoutrements onto dishes. And instead of having Breakfast at Tiffany's, we're having (simulated) Breakfast in Bed. So sit back, enjoy the art of accruing more arm parties, and have breakfast in bed. As in literally, so go grab some breakfast and snuggle!
Image credits Monochrome Mafia