Christie Turlington has opened an overpriced art supply store, selling hand made lipsticks the size of lemons. I should have known better than to buy the purple one given the immediate look of "anus mouth" upon application. I fought with a sales assistant who neglected to select the right sheepskin boots to applique. Instead of a pair of size nines, I was expected to make do with a five and a six, both for the left foot. I wrote a review slamming the encroachment of models into the art supply world and hurt Christie's feelings. What a fucked up dream.
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