On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to meeee.....devil horns! What did you think I was a saint?
*Warning: This post contains sexual references, brief nudity and strong language.*
The stroll down 5th Ave. is a fantasy beyond anything you could dream up. This is when it happened. I turned a corner and there he was right in front of me. He is the type that commands, no demands reverence. Eyes lowered I genuflected in the midst of a sea of people that I no longer knew were there. I stood face to face with St. John. No not the deity, the designer. I heard a voice yelling from inside me, "idol worshipper, blasphemer." I couldn't help myself, I was in the fits of lust.
St. John was an old love I had known passionately in my mid twenties. St. John like the devil knew what turned you on. He gave you your deepest female desire. You looked flawless as he draped seamlessly around your body. I caught my reflection in the window and saw the blush upon my cheeks. The desire over came me like a hot flash. In one quick motion I was in the store. I had bitten the forbidden fruit of lust. Forget about the "Christmas Secret" post Debra was getting lucky today.
I walked through those doors with dilated pupils straight for the black and white knit with threads of silver running through it. $1,700 I calculated as I eased the jacket from the rack. Mmmm $1,750 I saw the price as I held the jacket up. A wicked smile crossed my lips. Girl , you know your man even after all this time. As I grabbed the $1,600 skirt the sales lady asked if madam wanted to try it on? Is the pope catholic? In a flash she had taken the size 4 trinkets and exchanged them for the 2. Yes, she is right. Even if you wore a 12, in a St. John you would wear a 2. Didn't I tell you. He knows your deepest female desires and makes them come true.
In that dressing room stripped naked (who needs underwear in a St. John suit?) that jacket buttoned across my breasts like it was a second skin. The skirt, the skirt on the other hand didn't! What is this!!! What has happened I thought as I adjusted and readjusted it on my butt.
Alas my ass over the years drooped to the back of my knees. Somethings even St. John can't fix. Oh well, I am pleased with myself as I waltz over to the four way mirror. I sucked in my breath and nearly choked. For a split second I saw her. The twenty four year old Debra in one of the mirros. I wanted to call my husband to see her but I sent him off in a different direction. Who brings their husband for a rendezvous with a lover. Especially an expensive rendezvous, wink wink. You know what I mean ladies, don't be coy with me.
Parting is such sweet sorrow and time came to abandon fantasies better suited for young career women. I was happy to be revived by the cold air outside of the store. Perfect timing. My husband and I met up at the corner just as I stepped out of Bloomingdale's. "What did you buy?" he asked eyeing the new bag. I let him peek at the classic black constructed boucle' jacket I paid $150 for. Nice he mused. Nothing says St. John's like boucle' I smirked and closed the bag.
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