Monday, October 27, 2008

"If you believe, clap your hands. Don't let Tink die."

I've long claimed that my idea of hell is a world in which everyone wears sweatshirts and denim button-downs with Disney and Warner Bros. characters embroidered on them (especially on denim button-downs. shudder). Yes, that includes Winnie the Pooh. And Taz. And Tweety. However, my resolve must be weakening, because I'm desperately coveting multiple pieces from Disney Couture. The Disney jewelry line. That's couture. And by Disney. I know, right? It's ever so embarrassing. Hangs head in quiet and appropriate shame.

It started innocently enough with a feature story on head designer Kidada Jones (daughter of Quincy Jones and Peggy Lipton, sister of Rashida) in Nylon. But it didn't take long for me to go from ironically appreciating the silliness of a Tinkerbell ring to seriously considering purchasing a bejewelled Bambi pendant. A Bejewelled. Bambi. Pendant. This is a slippery slope, my friends. Next thing you know I'll be curling up with my High School Musical 3 Toss Pillow and fantasizing about marrying a Jonas Brother in a Disney Princess-themed wedding (Snow White!!). I barely even recognize myself in the (magic) mirror anymore. This shameful infatuation has betrayed everything that I stand for. It has altered the very fiber of my being. Don't look at me.

Sigh. More images that encourage my secret shame which is no longer a secret because I'm blogging about it:

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