Fashion Fades; Style is Eternal

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Saturday, June 22, 2013

Sticks & Stones.

 
Many of you have been inquiring on my lack of "consistency" with the blog and my general well being. Have I moved to Vegas? No, I was just there twice in one week. Do I just sit around drinking champagne all day at Neiman's Shoe Salon and forget to blog? No, in my spare time I just instagram cool looking bubbles and expensive pairs of red soles for your amusement (okay, and my own).

The truth is, three months ago I went through the most heart wrenching break up I have ever experienced in my life. Is he gay, you ask? Not that I'm aware of. Did he make the biggest mistake of his life? Yes, and I think that every day. Thank you for the support, but you and I both telling myself that he's an idiot doesn't help anything.

Over the past three months I have been on the greatest bender of my life. I have never been more alone - hence the traveling to a different city every week and exhausting myself to utter immobility so that my body couldn't breathe and I was numb factor. Yet, I have never found such strength in myself...the strength in starting from scratch.

It's terrifying losing that one person who was your constant, as many of you have already experienced, I was a first timer. For me, my first and only love of my life and best friend had died. And although I pretended I didn't give two sh*ts that this person was dead to me because it was so, so easy to put my f*ck it attitude on and do a skanky dance, it didn't change the fact that not a single thing went by that didn't make me think of him...to this day.

Now, don't worry, this isn't a sob story, and this certainly isn't a 'dis story. Sticks and stones may break his bones, but collecting twigs and throwing sediment will only wear you down. This is the "Biography of a Bitchin' Broken Heart" in the works, and it will be in bookstores and on Amazon near you...written by yours, fashionably and truly.

Dedicated to the asshole who broke my heart and turned out to be the best mistake of my fabulous life, I owe my inspiration to you, darling.

From Chapter 1 of the break up ("It's not you, it's me." - setting: gym parking lot after over 3 1/2 years) to Chapter 4 (Give your ex a funeral, and you a proper black out) to Chapter 7 (Find a hotter, wealthier, taller man to sleep with...with the same Persian name.) to Chapter 10 (Learn how to make a chicken, because you can't eat your shitty kale salads forever)...and so on.

I hope you're as excited as I am, stay tuned.

Amalfi.

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