Everyone loves Vogue magazine. Somehow, none of the other fashion magazines in that space measure up - Harper's Bazaar was coming close for a while there, and then it somehow recently became very beige (Girl With a Satchel blames Jamie Huckabee). Despite the evocative, 80s imagery (Madonna: the glory years) and the pattern books I used to paw through at the local sewing store as a child I always think of when I first hear the word "Vogue", there is also always that secondary little thrill of knowing there are some hideously expensive clothes lurking within a tome which tells you to be size 0, not to age, get a nanny (if you absolutely must procreate) and continue drinking champagne past midnight.
This month's fashion feature in Australian Vogue, "Cry Me A Riviera" is gorgeous. I want: every. single. thing. From the lipstick to the hair to the entire Dolce & Gabbana outfit (see pic). Is it wrong? Now that I've seen the outfit, no amount of cheap(er) knock-offs could possibly make me happy in the way that this D&G outfit would. I know it. Am I shallow? Not according to Vogue.
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