why the face.

Have you ever had one of those peculiar mornings where you actually wake up before being audibly bludgeoned by your alarm clock? Then, as you spring out of bed innately aware that the world is alive with possibility, your iPod take its cue and Phoenix puts a quintessential pep in your step. You go into the kitchen with an unusual confidence supported by the fact that there’s enough milk for your cereal, and it’s in date, and it’s skim. You feel amazing, indestructible, and raring to go. You glance suspiciously at the clock only to find you are in fact making record time and decide that a chapter or two of that fabulous new Mills and Boon you’re reading wouldn’t go astray.

And then the fates turn. Somewhere between his rippled abdomen and her emotional baggage, you’re late. You brazenly scrape up the contents of your Marc Jacobs tote, shaking it violently to verify your keys are actually lurking somewhere inside. Without time to double-check yourself in the mirror, you have a plaguing wariness that you still have hot rollers on the crown of your head and your unblended make-up is reminiscent of a scene from google maps: urban edition. Can’t deal, no time.

An inch of hope is restored as the surly waiter at your morning café hands you a double shot latte and curiously smiles. At this point you know the rollers are definitely still in your hair. Rushing down the footpath you start ruminating; if only you had have slept in until the “snooze” button defeated you. You keep berating yourself with the fact that maybe if you hadn’t been so cheerful and ambitious, you might not be on the brink of a mid-morning melt down.

You cross the road haphazardly and only just avoid being flattened by a semi-trailer. With your coffee still in hand and the wind offset by the near collision blowing your hair about the hot rollers, you make a left. At that moment, an elderly man with a cowhide complexion, discoloured dentures and beige chinos that had obviously seen better days, turns to you and says, “YOU $#%@ing little *%&#$! Why are you always in such a hurry! Can’t even sit at a table for five minutes and drink your $#%$ing coffee!”

There’s no turning back after this. All you can do is anticipate that your day will only go up hill, and regret that because you didn’t order those ALEXANDER WANG for LINDA FARROW cat-eye sunglasses from Opening Ceremony when you had the chance, you now have nothing to shrink behind.

(thanks thegloss.com for the pics... they'll have to do until the real things arrive x)