Give me skinny jeans, flannel shirts and oxfords(tan please) and I’ll smoke a cigarette all the way to Annie Hall. Maybe the solid colored oversized shirts- rolled-up sleeves and light blue denims with chestnut brown loafers and Woody Allen glasses will buy me a bottle of bourbon. Then just maybe I’ll wear my hair in a bun and tuck in my navy blouson into the white cigarette pants and click the heels of the cherry red alligator skin loafers to Rachel Maddow’s door. While at it, I’d also read Philip Larkin in that drone which sounds Parisian and hence very making-love-with-the-utterance-of-each-vowel-like.
And because I always want more: Mmm…loafers!
(So the story goes, she killed it-she skinned it-she cooked it-she wore it. Alligator, Mmm.)