The Crazy Life of a Centered Shopaholic

Chapter One: Meet yours truly

Chapter One: Meet yours truly

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Three words. Just three, and I'm head over heels, piles of them. Those words can take me from sadness to happiness in a matter of seconds. Scratch that milli-seconds. I hear those words and I find myself frolicking with joy. Nothing matters once the familiar sound reaches my ears.

Gucci. Louis Vuitton. Chanel.

Yes.

Shopping literally equals life. In my opinion, it should be considered a career, or a lifestyle of some kind. I mean, it takes hard work making your way through the bustling crowds on black friday. In other words, you can most likely catch me swindling around the prestigious shops in Beverly Hills.

Hey, just because I spend a good percentage of my time at the mall, don't get the wrong idea. Let's just straighten this out now. I am not a shopaholic. Shopping is just the world I know and love. Everything else doesn't matter as far as I'm concerned.

Once I set my eyes on the latest Louis Vuitton bag, my eyes focus in and everything else becomes a blur. Yes, Vince Camuto is lavishing, Chloé is satisfactory, Prada is all out fabulous, but none of the above beat the gratification of a hundred percent real Louis Vuitton. Those bags are good good. I mean, really, how could you settle for less? So many people out there are selling and buying fakes. Trying to weave the same satisfaction. A dark cloud forms in my head as I think about all the fakes' I see daily in L.A. There are at least twenty Louis Vuitton stores around here. How hard is it find the real deal?

I don't swindle over the issue long. It kills brain cells that could be valuably spent on a Vogue Magazine.

Barking erupts and I turn my attention to the floor. A fluffy bundle of joy is smiling at me.

"Diamond!" I squeal as I pick her up. Dye has white luxuriously soft fur can make any pageant princess jealous. Mostly because I take Diamond almost everywhere with me, she has to look her best.

Its then I realize Dye has an appointment today. Nothing much, you know the usual, fluff up treatment.

Shoot!

It's in thirty minutes and Diamond doesn't like to be rushed, like at all. Dye is usually Good Good but that just makes it all the worse when I attempt to get on her ootd. Even if I change her ootd via the same day.

If that isn't enough, it's the worst process in the world to reschedule. A new appointment isn't even guaranteed in the same week! Dye needs this. We have a doggy get together tomorrow with the other girls in the neighborhood- Britt, Audi, and Elonia. They think their pooches are better than my Diamond.

No way is she missing this.

I scurry to the closet and pull out my favorite ootd. Initially, I was going to have her wear this tomorrow since it's custom made Gucci. I know for a fact none of the other pooches will have it! Burberry sure, but not Gucci. Yet I have to do anything to get to this appointment on time.

"Diamond" I'm in Diamonds closet right off the dresser.
"Come." I say sweetly.

Diamond didn't even budge, not even a little.

I shake the handmade material in front of her, trying to catch her eye. Hopefully the neon pink gets the best of Diamond.

"Dye! Come on." I say again. "It's time to get dressed."