Fake people I can handle, fake handbags – not so much. I’ve dealt with fake people my whole life, my guess is we’ve all encountered our fair share. But fake people who carry fake bags are really asking for a bitch-slap.
Every time I see a woman carrying a fake bag, I have to resist ripping it off her arm and beating her over the head with it. Especially when that woman is parading around Harrods like that nasty bag is real, oh the nerve. I shoot her evil looks, I turn my nose up at her and I may accidentally trip her up.
So, take note people: fake bags are cheap and nasty – just like Heidi Montag.
I am a fashion junkie, it’s my religion. When GQ magazine gets delivered to my door monthly, I peel back each page delicately in anticipation of the chic adverts that will grace the insides. Each beautifully choreographed photo, the gorgeous items beckoning you to buy them, the ridiculously beautiful model that you’re fantasising about having in your bedroom. Nothing compares to the real thing – fake handbags, watches, belts, might look like the real thing to an untrained eye, but every fashionista can smell them a mile away, and when the handle of your fake bag snaps and your shit goes all over the floor, I’m going to point and laugh at you.
Now, I know that I have friends who have purchased such heinous items, and if any of them are reading this I’d like to say that I still love you, but I hate your fake bags. In fact, I’m actually allergic to them so for my sake please throw them in the nearest rubbish bin, I beg of you.
On a serious note, buying fakes funds crime, slave labour and terrorism. But more importantly, fake bags are just plain fugly. Don’t buy them, because if I see you with one you risk getting beaten with it – I do it because I love you.