Forgive me, readers, for I actually like a D&G dress...

Some guilty confessions and surprising realizations I can't keep to myself any longer:

After seeing this dress on both Revolve and Saks' websites and then triple-checking with the Google that my eyes didn't, in fact, deceive me, I have to concede I am no longer able to say I hate everything Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana have ever designed. It hurts, but that's life. On the bright side, it's not like I don't still have Roberto Cavalli and Beyoncé to rely on for consistent production of makes-me-wince clothing. I've contemplated these Dell'Acqua's as a 'Sugar Daddy' offering since the day they debuted in Bop's designer boutique over a month ago, but for some reason I've hesitated. I guess I just didn't want to deal with all the "but I thought you hated ankle straps" and "with your calves you really oughtn't wear an ankle strap" comments their presence on my blog was sure to elicit. I'm not sure whether it's their prick-point toe, their intermixed colors and materials or their sneaky, hidden platform that has me tilting my head and sighing each time I look at them, but whatever it is, I'm no longer hiding from the world that I likey these a lotty.
I want a jumpsuit. Or playsuit. Whatever this sexy, space-cadet looking thing is called, I want it, and I wanna wear it with five-inch matte-metallic heels and one of those crazy, super-structured Balenciaga jackets. Not to work or to a wedding, of course, but maybe to cocktails at the Mayflower...God, how I love the crowd at Town & Country on a weeknight...
For only the second time in my life, I'm finding it hard to deny that a dress made of nothing but black leather can actually be sexy in a non-streetwalker sense. I crave this little number in the worst way, but knowing my luck it's probably not only another Dolce & Gabbana anomaly but also so outlandishly expensive even HRL would hesitate.
After seeing this interview, I actually feel guilty for liking Katie as much as I do. Or did, rather. Her story sure is an intoxicating one, but its novelty quickly fell to the floor when I had no choice but to accept that there isn't an ounce of wry humor, charm or playful beguile about her -- just a bunch of sophisticated knits, Nicole Richie sunglasses and biannual haircuts. Such a shame...


Any fashion-related confessions you'd like to share?