Bad Luck Charms

I am really sad here.  Sitting on the loo tending to my busted knee in Paris this summer.  Was I under the influence?  Unfortunately, no.  Just another victim of purple's evil wrath. I was hesitant to even go here.  Just this morning I woke up sick with no water in my building. 

I blame purple.  Purple?

Speed reading British Vogue, I happened across a section where editors and stylists reveal what brings them bad luck fashion-wise.  From leather pants that split up the crotch to a darling Rykiel dress in which your dumped, the message was swarovski crystal clear.  Get those cursed items the hell out of your sacred closet.  Banish them to your nearest charity shop, sell on ebay, throw out the nearest window, set aflame.

Speaking of windows, I feel out of a one in above offending purple pencil skirt.  Thankfully, I timbered onto the patio. I survived to tell this harrowing tale and to teach all the dangers of snug pencil skirts.  For the same reason I detest snowboarding, legs should not be oppressed. The next day, I lost my euro cellular and split sauvignon blanc on my blackberry rendering it useless. Then I got sunstroke in a seemingly harmless vintage purple tartan skirt thoughtlessly picked up in Le Marais.  Cue les parametiques et une ambulence.  Recently I fell UP the stairs at Starbucks, then proceeded to slide DOWN. No one helped me get up.  I messaged my dear Mag, photog of above toilette shot.  She rightfully questioned my colour palette.  

"Mosha, are you wearing purple?"

Zute.  An INDIGO sweater.  How could I be so careless with my safety?

Please learn from my magenta mistakes.  Spring is pending, lovelies.  Time to clean house. I did a closet clear-out the other day, which I ship to my Auntie Chrissie out west to sell.  Rid 

yourself of all those items that have only brought evil, bruises and tears. It could save your life.  Hence, offending purple garment was ceremoniously bid adieu.  Bon voyage forsaken skirt.