To Cheat on a Wardrobe

By Alexandra Sostar

Seedy hotel rooms, lipstick on collars, fishnets strewn across anonymous lampshades. Oh the secrets of a cheating heart. My name is Alex and I am a cheater. But seedy hotel rooms? Not quite my style. Most people might be lured by a come hither glance, a sexy unshaven jaw line attached to that tall dark stranger in the corner. Yawn. I have bigger problems. Like those that come in the form of soft buttery leather, tinkling chains, glittering sequins, and fanciful ruffles…pure sex. Its not that what I have isn’t satisfying. Its how the minute I walk into Holt Renfrew, every lustful fantasy I’ve ever had, every craving for adventure, glamour and notoriety is thrust in my face. My practical dreams for the perfect, professional and sophisticated (read: black, grey and black) wardrobe have been tied up and gagged in the closet. Out of my treacherous longings steps a fearless glamazon, turning heads as she passes, while flitting from one society event to the next and peering back at me in the reflection of that stunning solid sequined skirt. One skintight tie-dyed minidress and I’m whirling through discos with my entourage, dancing till dawn. Is it such an awful temptation to step out of oneself just for a moment? As the sales girl discreetly folds away my dreams in tissue paper, I anticipate the experience of our first outing together. Complete with flocks of admirers and smoldering flirtation all encompassed by my new dazzling charisma, I would be untouchable! As with most epic love affairs though, the passion is short lived. By the time I get my treasures home, I realize that I don’t know where to find a disco, let alone my own entourage. Those sequins that promised endless nights of epic revelry? They don’t match a thing in my closet, unless I’m planning on starting a new ultra-minidress fad. And so I brew a strong cup of tea, slip back into my trusty headband and black wool tights and settle down to medit ate on my sins. Until next time.