Dressed to Kill

I love vamping it up like a femme fatale, and would love nothing more than to do so every single day of my life, except that it's so tiring and involved sometimes. You have to have the perfect clothes, the perfect hair, the perfect makeup, and most of all, the perfect fuck off attitude. While I generally dress pretty well, if a bit conservatively and traditionally, there are always those days when I just don't have the energy to put into picking out the perfect clothes, doing the perfect hair and makeup, and I certainly don't have the mindset for the perfect fuck off attitude.

But today is not one of those days. Today I have it all together, the long pencil skirt, the fitted black turtleneck, the kick ass new H-O-T HOT boots, the hair pulled up and clipped just so, the perfect smoky eyes and dark red vamp lips. Hell, my teeth are even getting whiter thanks to the miracle of modern chemistry. It is one of those days when I can't do anything else but strut, which we all know looks fan-fucking-tastic in a perfect pencil skirt and kitten heel suede boots.

Which is all kind of funny because I was lamenting to myself earlier that I had no good reason for such vamping and strutting today. No plans to go for drinks, no plans for dinner, no plans beyond hitting the grocery store on the way home, doing some dishes, cleaning a little and going to bed early. You might say, as I certainly do, that it was almost a wasted effort to be so fucking glamorous.

But I knew there had to be a reason, and it came when Chepe called to see if I had time for some coffee before he went to work at the restaurant tonight. YAY! Perfect timing. So sophisticated I am, taking time in the afternoon to go have a coffee with my lover, yes? So very femme fatale. One might say I have that perfect je ne sais quoi about me, even.

Of course the plethora of runs in my hose might tend to ruin the effect just a wee bit if you know they're there, as I do.

I swear one day I'll get this whole femme fatale thing right.