if sex was made into a dress...

This fall, there will most likely be a wedding in which the majority of the guests will be bankers and doctors. In other words, the world's two most boring groups of people will amass under one roof in what could potentially be the most painful day of my life. The only thing that's been saving me from plotting to throw myself in front of a bus in order to have a plausible excuse of missing that wedding is the dress of absolute sex that Alexander Wang made for spring '09. (Yes, I know I've griped about him, but I'm also a shameless hypocrite.)

It's given me quite the run around. A fiasco with eluxury.com made me miss out on my first chance, and an e-mail to Creatures of Comfort (who has great customer service, by the way) proved fruitless. I attempted to curb my jealousy when Luxirare featured the coveted possession on her blog, but the green monster got the best of me when Kanye's stripper-turned-highclass escort was seen walking around Paris with the beautiful mess of coiled swirls. Oh, NO SHE DIDN'T.

So I grit my teeth and called my local Barney's Co-Op and demanded that the bitches who worked there actually pull their weight and hunt down this dress. I suppose it helped that the slowed economy got their asses in high gear, and they found a size 2 waiting for my greedy hands in Beverly Hills. A week and my entire tax return check later, I am now ready to greet the prematurely balding, Napoleonic complex masses who use pick-up lines learned in 3rd grade come September. I'll just need a bottle of vodka and a year's worth of cigarettes.

P.S. Ji, I too would like to know what stick monster can fit into a size 0. The sleeves on the dress are super tiny, and the fabric isn't very forgiving for any type of chubbs anywhere. Maybe the cocaine-addled Nicole Richie might have fit into the 0, but I can't be 100% sure about that either.