Old timer

Dress: ASOS

Shoes: Nelly (Similar here)

I'm bringing sexy back.

Sunglasses: Karen Walker | Necklace: Gift (Same here)

Bag: Red Valentino | Ring: Vintage (Similar here)

I recently attended a friend's wedding followed by the after-party at Butter Factory on the club's last night of operations. Somehow I decided it would be a fantastic idea to have a rager of a night because I felt like I needed to reclaim some of that wild youthful energy I used to have. This was a fatal mistake especially since I was still nursing a nasty cold.

Things that happened that made me realise I am just not that young sprightly thing I once was:

1. I had to pimp out a younger female friend so I could score drinks. Oh the shame. 
2. I fell down. A lot. I have a bruised palm and finger, a bruised left arm, a bruised knee and a twisted ankle. I just can't do high heels anymore.
3. I could not keep food down the whole next day and fell even sicker than I had previously been. Because when you're old, your body says "screw you" and gives up. 
4. I ended up talking to young girls about their jobs. Hi Melvina, the SG stewardess, you're very nice and friendly. Sorry I was karate kicking the flush for the toilet. That must have been tremendously weird. 

I guess it's really time to accept this weird inevitable aging thing. But before I do that, here are pictures of me wearing a backless dress to the office because ONLY YOUNG GIRLS WOULD DO THAT RIGHT???? Thanks for reading!

Bitch

Dress: Primark (Similar here)

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

Bag: Gracious Aires (Similar here) | Ring: Gift (Similar here)

Shoes: Tangs (Similar here)

Earrings: Forever 21 (Similar here)

I apologise for the coarse language. Today's post is dedicated to a topic that is near and dear to my heart - it is about my face.

When I was in secondary school, a classmate, let's call her J, expressed disbelief when another classmate had a conversation with me, because J thought that I looked quite stuck up so she imagined a conversation with me would be akin to a job interview with the white witch of Narnia.

You may also recall that I worked as a door bitch for a few years. The job is similar to that of a maître d' of a restaurant except supposedly meaner. A few years after, I worked in a private equity firm and a colleague, who later became a friend told me that he initially didn't want to talk to me because he remembered me from my door bitching days and was scared of me.

Recently, someone expressed pleasant surprise when I had a nice conversation with her. So basically, if I act like a human being and not spit fire, people are surprised? I probably need to re-evaluate my life.

I decided to turn to my friends for their testimony on my niceness:

"You're... Okay I guess."
"You aren't like evil or anything"
"Sorry, who are you? " 

I hate you guys.

So I've decided that all this boils down to my amazing resting bitch face. (I refuse to believe it's my personality. What? I can't hear you lalalalalalalalala).

Anyway, I got dressed with all this in mind today, hence I look like a cross between a Stepford wife and a Barbie doll because it's super saccharine sweet and people like that right? I'm approachable dammit.

Thanks for reading, if you see me, be brave, come up and say hi, because I'm not glaring at you, I just look like that.

Today's post was brought to you by the association of bloggers with verbal diarrhea.