The prospect of crazy fashion deals is usually considered “sick” as in “sweet” as in “bad like early Michael Jackson good.”
However, for one skinny, blond publishing industry worker, a past shopping trauma causes a tickle in her olfactories. Now every Century 21 bag she encounters smells like vomit.
Aside: you’ll have to forgive us and supply your own imagination caps for, try as we might, we failed to find the perfect picture to illustrate this post’s “concept.”
In creating her Pavlovian puke connection, she sacrificed reduced-priced cashmere and last season’s Pucci for a misplaced piece of pride. Dignity is for sale in Manhattan, but you have to pay the right price. And usually the transaction doesn’t take place in the back of a taxi.