I know we're zooming right into the end of January but it's never too late to list out my New Year resolution. Or should I say, my sartorial resolution.
1. I'm not a zebra.
Enough stripes already. I stopped counting after 10 so I won't scare myself silly. Those were just tops. I haven't even started on the sweaters.
2. No more flats.
I mean it. 1 pair of feet = 8 pairs of flats. The ones in the deep ravine of my wardrobe do not count. Oh okay, perhaps just a pair of leopard print ones. After all, I don't have any yet. I'm done with being a zebra. I'm into leopards these days. ROOOAR. I swear, that'll be my last pair. Cross my heart.
3. Overcome logo phobia.
I used to think those Fs sprayed all over Fendi bags stood for f***. I was deeply offended when hubby surprised me with one so I offload it on eBay. It has been 11 years and hubby is still insulted. Ooops. I guess the letters L and V seem pretty tame after those Fs.
4. Time to lose those love handles.
Those Yummie Tummie vests that kind of snap the extra layer of lard in place also managed to squeeze the life out of my intestines. I think I understand how Marie Antoinette must've felt in her whalebone corset.
5. Just because my Kelly 28 slouches
There's no excuse I should do the same. Posture, posture, posture. My physiotherapists, acupuncturist and beautician kept harping on about it. Stand up straight, suck that gut in, look up and s m i l e. A grimace is not a smile. Apparently, those High School boys I used to teach still have nightmares about me. Nearly 20 years later.






































