D: I have decided that I need a good coral lipstick.

A Lady: Ooh yes you do.

D: And a good violet gloss.

A Lady: ?

D: Not pastel-violet... plum? Something purple-y.

A Lady: .

D: I got into a red rut.

A Lady:

D: I am taking that “.” as endorsement of this plan, whether you meant it as such or no.

A Lady: Uh huh.
They make berry colors for a reason. S'all I'm sayin’.

D: (My intern is going to come into my office any minute and see me frantically scanning Sephora. This will not surprise anyone.)
I kind of want to go play with this in Audacious Violet.

A Lady: EW. Dude.
Someone has to say it.

D: You never know! When I go play at Sephora, I will take photos. One of us will be proven right.
Hopefully it will be me.

A Lady: .
I know what this will look like. It will look like 1994.

D: Sssssssssh. Naysayer.


D: I will try it out! I am not saying I'm buying it sight unseen or anything.
…maybe more like a purple-y lipstain?

A Lady: Like a popsicle? or a cadaver? NO.

D: Popsicle.

A Lady: No one wants purple popsicle mouth. Cherry, yes. Grape, no.

D: Damn you, naysayer.


D: Photographic evidence, L! The selection at Sephora was a wee bit limited, but I fucked off from work this week for a trip over there with a camera.

First of all, yes, I am obviously somewhat lipstick-impaired. Lipstick application is one of those girl-skills that I never acquired.

And second of, I only cropped the photos, no color correction/retouching. I am vain but not a liar.

A Lady: no.

D: Fuck you. I still think I've proven that yes, one can wear purple lips in real life.

A Lady: WRONG.

Sigh. Ok, internet. Back me up here. These three purple lip experiments were not unsuccessful, right? Comment and tell me you're on my side.

Ed: FINE. No one has opinions. Way to make us feel alone and unloved, internet. (Setting aside the fact that we are often absent and neglectful and... oh, fuck it. I bought some purple gloss. A Lady can deal with it.)


wishful thinking

D: Um, yes. We are the worst bloggers ever.

A Lady:
Sigh. Agreed.

D: Let’s ignore the fact that we are absent and disappointing bloggers and jump ahead like we didn’t accidentally hiatus for, like, three weeks.

A Lady: Yes! Exactly! Let’s get greedy.

D: AKA wishlisting time. This is the best part of holidays: pretending that it’s not a little sad that I, at nearly thirty years old, am still making wishlists.

A Lady: Plus, the Christmas-adjacent birthdays thing. Was this always a pain for you, or a bonus?

D: Oh, always a bonus. My birthday falls three weeks after Christmas, so I’d take the handwritten list off the fridge, carefully cross off all the things I got, leave the un- acquired gifts on the list, and retitle it “Birthday List”. It was all kinds of efficient.

A Lady: Ooh. That’s so clever. My problem has always been of the eleven days prior variety. No, I never know what I want for either holiday. The more important concern is What Do You Want To Do For Your Birthday, and, to be frank I’ve more or less decided to throw in the towel. People are always writing papers or taking finals or already gone home for break and god I resent the academy sometimes.

ANYWAY. What do we want this year, pray tell?

D: I think I can speak for both trollops here when I say “scotch”. Delicious, gorgeous, expensive scotch.

And a table saw would be nice. But probably not recommended to enjoy at the same time as the scotch.

A Lady: And a pony! A Tom Ford-approved pony!

D: And a first edition of “What Shall I Wear”, of course. One must have a well-selected library, naturally.

A Lady: I could always do with a Rothko and a Twombly.

I also feel like either of us would go for the Visionaire boxed edition of Diana Vreeland’s VOGUE memos.
I saw it at Art Basel Miami and pined for a few minutes. The last copy they had on hand was $160 or so. (Which, crap, I should totally have gotten as an investment because on the site they retail at $250 WTF. Not. Worth. It.)

D: Ooooh. That packaging. Swoon.

(I can’t believe you don’t keep a running wishlist through the year. My acquisitiveness knows no bounds: I have a specific list on my calendar just for Things I’d Like To Have Purchased For Me. Sadly, the list only gets longer, not shorter ever. Magpie tendencies.)

A Lady: (I mean, I did, for a hot second, have a running email I was sending to myself to keep track of everything I wanted, but then present time came around and I, um, forgot about it. Because what’s more fun than making life difficult for everyone?)

D: Passive-aggression is everyone's favorite gift.

A Lady: Another thing I could use, since Boswell ate mine, is a new pair of ballet flats. (The
Delmans are dead, long live the cheaper version?) Like these, but in my size.

D: V nice. I can’t believe I haven’t put Improbable Shoes on my wishlist yet. No, my wall of shoes is not quite full yet, and I must remedy that.

These are insane. And so am I, and thus, it is perfect.

We are so easy to buy gifts for, really.