It has belatedly occurred to me that not everyone understands what the iHog (aka Fernando von Bakonstein) is about. You people should be ashamed of yourselves. DON’T YOU KNOW WHO HE IS?!? No? Oh. Then click here and here.
After a busy Saturday spent sightseeing and hog-nogging with an Oscar nominee, Fernando and I were planning to take it easy and maybe do a little work on my “soon-to-be-launched” website. Frankly, I think it’s more likely that a space ship to Mars will launch with me and Fernando on it before this website launches. Elephants will conceive and give birth before this website launches. The day this website launches, the devil will be all like, “Shizz, hand me a sweater, will ya?” Anyway, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself (Shut up! No, you shut up! No, you!), Fernando and I were going to have a quiet night at home.
That’s how Fernando and I wound up at 1OAK at 11 PM, having one of the more decadent nights I’ve had in a long time.
My gorgeous client Chris was there. She’s Andrea’s friend and I’d never met her in person before, so I was thrilled. She was wearing my Clemence ring in black spinel.
Fernando got crazy and dove into the Champagne bucket.
I thanked Andrea for organizing such an exciting night.
I found a new BFF. I call her, “What’s your name again?”
I gladly relinquished my “most amazing bosom” title when I met Kristen. Or Kristin. I don’t know which vowel she uses but she has the best cleavage ever! I must get a WendyB necklace nestled in there. That is, if Simon doesn’t get there first. I swear, this is NOT what it looks like.
Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for: the evidence that I left the house wearing latex leggings (sorry, Asudem, but you know what I mean.)
Here they are ….
No one managed to take a picture of them.
I knew this would be disappointing to you all, so when BarbaraB and GeorgeB asked me to dinner tonight, I put on the exact same outfit so I could take a picture for you. First, of course, we had to do the Fernando photo.
THEN we took the leggings photo. That’s not my motorcycle; we were just walking by it. I am holding Fernando.
The best thing about this outfit is how aggravating it would be to the fashion police with all their fascist rules for women over 40. I’m wearing a too-short dress with latex leggings! Mwah ha ha ha. MWAH HA HA HA HA! Fuck y’all if you don’t like it.
As for the leggings, with some TLC from Jean at Ghost Tailor, the waistband was much improved though I still had to hitch ’em up once in a while. And they kind of bunch up at the knees. But I got used to it. They were a surprisingly big hit with the peeps last night. So there you have it. I’ll definitely wear them again. And I’ll be even older then than I was on Saturday. Suck it, bitches!