Desperate Housewife.

(Click to enlarge)

One more swig of this, and I won't be able to see straight.

Working late? Please. You're probably with her right now. Do you think I'm stupid Bradley? They've seen you two running around Manhattan, flaunting yourselves. 

I remember when that was us. I remember you loved me then. You thought I was beautiful then. I guess that was before I turned forty, and before you hired a secretary whose tits hadn't been hijacked by gravity yet.

17 years of marriage and this is the shit I get? After everything I've done for you. Slaving away day after day so you can build up your career. Don't give me that "But I buy you whatever you want" rhetoric.

I hate it.

I hate this Park Avenue penthouse.

I hate my red Maserati.

I hate my catalogued jewelry.

I'll be gone by the time you read this, not that you'll even notice. Not after all the times you told me how you wished I'd just leave already. I left dinner in the microwave, and your dry cleaning is on your side of the bed. 

If you're still reading this, you gotten to the bathtub yet. 

You know where the mop is. Clean up your own mess this time.

-Your Desperate Housewife.

"What do I love most about Fashion...

the stories it tells."

Jacket: 1980's Vintage Fur

Shoes: Rebecca Taylor