dsc072811 dsc07328 dsc07313 dsc07362 dsc073741 When: Friday, Dec. 5th, 2008.

What: Cable knit turtleneck sweater by Dolce Vita, striped silk skirt by MaxStudio, tights by Old Navy and dark gray and red knit socks by mysterious Italians. Boots by Charles David. I cannot remember where in the hell this cute little hat came from, but it's adorable and keeps my head very warm, indeed.

Scent: Burberry The Beat, with the following notes: Bergamot, Cardamom, Pink Pepper, Mandarin, Iris, Bluebell, Ceylon Tea, White Musk, Vetiver, Cedarwood. Boy, oh boy. This is nowhere near as complex as they'd like it to be. At best it's merely pleasant, like clean laundry fresh from the dryer. A soft and sweet scent, scarcely hinting at any maturity or complexity. At worst, it's like the perfume equivalent of a child splattering paint against an easel and praising it as a masterpiece. In other words, Burberry lies. It does go on with a bit of a zing, right away, and it's staying power is good, but it just mellows out into something that is nice, but nothing special. (ZOMG, is The Beat an Agness Deyn metaphor?) But it's good for days when I'm not terribly invested in anything and want to smell flirty and light.

Confession: I took four 5th grade girls to see Twilight this afternoon. My text to the tomboy after getting out reads: "Just got out of movie. I deserve so much alcohol right now." When she texted back "What kind?" I simply replied, "Just pour it on my face. I don't care." HOLY SMOKES. I had no idea what to expect of this movie. I tried to read the first book a week ago and doing so felt exactly the same as waiting in line at the DMV. The movie was maddening in an entirely different way.