It was only a few days ago that I found myself mumbling something or other on the subject of the fickle nature of a woman's love for fashion - not fashion as a whole, mind you. No, no! - my love for fashion has long been and incontestably remains strictly unconditional (as does my love for family, friends, other half... blah blah.) It's more trend-related fashion that I have a bone to pick with (such as double trouble print.) You invest and invest and invest and then BAM, it's next season before you can say 'autumn winter.' Well, a few years ago, a fresh-faced harrem-pant clad 18-year-old fashion-marketing-student-me fell in love with the notion of statement jewellery and morphed into a consequential obsessive-compulsive necklace addict. A few years later and here I am googling 'necklace addicts anonymous' having recently recovered from a bout of non-stop-shoe-buying syndrome, subsequently making the fleeting discovery that I have returned to a new-old obsession. (I suspect my initial introduction would read something like Good afternoon. My name is Anna and I'm a recovering click-to-buy-aholic.)
The objects of my desire? These little - or should I say rather large - stunners from Swarovski. I have been head over heels in love with them from the moment we locked eyes on a shoot just a few short weeks ago; I stared at the crystals, they stared back at me... and I've found myself feeling remarkably giddy at the thought of a future encounter. You see, to me, they're like meals-on-wheels, or a Burger King drive-thru - an express style fix of sorts, if you will. It's like, why walk to Burger King, eat-in and pay extra when you can sit your lazy ass in the car, whizz by, hand over your dosh and park up? Statement necklaces are an instantaneous fix of pleasure in its purest form, only minus the elbow grease.
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