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Bus Story: Runway Run-Away

March 21, 2013

Small black ankle boots with two-inch heels, perfectly together. Black stockings, flawless, knees together as if riveted. Black pencil skirt, knee-length, tight but not so much as to bother Nina Garcia. Black coat, flared at the hip, brushed impeccably, not a hair nor speck of fluff nor anything on it. Black scarf, tucked into the coat, tied effortlessly and, at the same time, with precision. Makeup is natural but present purely to enhance a little color here and a definition there. Handbag is matte black with shiny black leather accents, expensive without being ostentatious. Hair is…like someone lit a firecracker and fed it to a cockatoo. White and blonde and pink and brown stalagmites of hair fling themselves into space, as if fleeing from her head. None of it moves. Adorning the top of her head is essentially a sculpture of hair from a madman’s dream. We are all creatures of often conflicting notions. Balance and peace between those opposites is an admirable goal. Perhaps her outward aspect shows the inner state of satori she has reached. A sage rides the “C” line, and has awesome shoes.

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From → Bus Stories

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