A Close Second...

For the past two months, I've been obsessed with finding the perfect leopard print pencil skirt. Totally. Obsessed. It's been an almost daily distraction trying to find this miraculous piece of fashion perfection. And believe me, it hasn't been easy. Try Googling "leopard print pencil skirt" and see the dazzling spectrum of whorishness that comes up with THAT search. Nothing that fits this girls definition of "perfect leopard print pencil skirt". Trust.

This isn't the first (or last) time that I've been burdened with an obsessive sartorial situation. Ten years ago, it was a pair of black leather pants. That's right. Leather pants. I had an image in my head of what they would look like. I could imagine how soft and buttery they would feel. How I would look totally rock n roll. How amazing my ass would look in them. (they were going to be the perfect pants, after all!).

So I started my trek innocently enough. I researched options for three weeks before diving in. Finding them online wasn't an option-I needed to be able to feel them and try them on to commit to such an outrageous purchase. So after exhaustive research and much discussion with a team of experts (aka-my gays) I took a deep breath, had a strong cocktail, and popped into the mall. Makes sense and seems easy enough, right?

Wretched. Little did I know that at that time, every f-ing store from Saks to the Gap carried black leather pants. No joke. And I tried on every pair. Seriously-no joke. After trolling around that mall, I actually went to the other mall across the street. (I happened to live a block away from two fan-freaking-tastic malls. And a bar. Often a troublesome combo for me and my roommate). So after scouring the second mall, I found them. The perfect black leather leather pants. Soft, supple, rock n roll-but not too trampy. Me in pants form! Plus the queen who sold them to me told me my ass looked like a "gift from baby Jesus" and I believed him, so I was sold! They were more than double my "budget" (ha!) but they had to be mine. Clearly he was a connoisseur of ass and who was I to disagree? Plus I was 22 and it was the glory days for my ass. They DESERVED those pants.

But I digress. I bought the perfect leather pants and wore the hell out of them. Twice. And then never again until last Halloween when I dressed like the biker from The Village People. (With a group of OTHER Village People, obvi!) Because after a trek like that, how could I ever get rid of those glorious pants? I'm going to wear them once every 4 years like leap year. These are going to be passed down to my daughter like a family heirloom. Something I am sure she'll be WAY grateful for, right?

So back to the leopard skirt. The short end to this long story is that although I thought I found it, my size has disappeared from the earth completely. And yes, Ms. Know It All, I did consider buying the bigger size and having it altered, but that's a LOT of work.

So what's the point of this story? Within the past week I DID find the perfect pair of leopard print pumps. On sale. That are awesome and hot and perfect. Not only that, I also found the most delicious pair of black patent leather (that's another obsession for another day!) Tory Burch wedges. So on sale that it was almost like stealing but not. And that to me makes up for my perfect leopard print skirt that is lost to the universe. Two amazing, perfect pairs of shoes = one perfect leopard print skirt. That is math I can accept and understand. I'll never stop looking, but the little shoe miracles that came my way this week make the pain of living without this mythical perfect skirt a little easier to bear.

So while I may never find that holy Grail of a leopard skirt, I can take comfort in knowing that one day, I'll be that old lady, scooting around the Senior Center in my hot-ass leather pants and rockin leopard heels.