Will Prostitute For Fashion

There is a certain amount of torture that goes along with being a woman, or should I say there is a certain amount of masochism that we are pressured into by society when you are a woman. Lately high heels which I love so much are starting not be as important at the marks on my feet that leave me limping at the end of the day. Headbands seem to get tighter and tighter during the day that they begin to restrict the blood flow to my head. And I am not even going to get started about the bras and pantyhose which are my personal little pieces of hell on earth.

For instance today I am wearing a pair of boots I bought in Mexico that I LOVE LOVE LOVE but because of the heels I wore yesterday that rubbed my heel almost raw the boots I am wearing today just make me want to limp. So instead of going to the bathroom which is a 10 minute walk from my desk I have decided to not drink any liquids, that way I can avoid the multiple trips to the bathroom and spare the Frankenstein-like walk that I know would just freak the receptionist out.

So I sit all 8 hours at my desk, I have not eaten, I have not drank a sip since breakfast, I am fidgeting in my chair because I have not moved I am starting to loose feelings in my toes altogether and I am pretty much ready to admit that I am a masochistic slave to fashion. Such is the bitchy life in a super fashionista’s life.