Barneys Is Trying To End Me

If you follow me on Instagram (which is a photo-app for fat people and fat people with cats) then you bore witness to my mini-breakdown yesterday at Barneys New York. My friends there played a cruel, cruel trick on me by inviting me to the opening of their brand new shoe floor. They did this knowing full well about my rules. They know I’m not supposed to enter any Barneys store. Anywhere. Even the outlets have been banished by my therapists, not like I’d go to an outlet.

The shoe event, which they semi-cutely named “Perfect Pairs” was pretty cute. The newly renovated space is amaaaaaaaaaaazing though, it’s  like a sex dungeon if sex was shoes and dungeons were Barneys. It also kind of looks like my bathroom, and I’m OBSESSED with my bathroom. So…

I got fucked by a pair of Alaia’s on that little ottoman right there in the back.

Nicholas Kirkwood went down on me while I browsed The Window on an iPad that was built into that gray couch on the left.

Before I had a total loss-of-control with the credit card, I frenched Simon Doonan and let him feel my tit under one of these tables. The whole day was major.

If any of you psychos are in NYC, run-don’t-walk to the new 5th floor of Barneys. They’re even doing a charity thing where a percentage of your buy goes to The Human Rights Campaign. They also have a Facebook contest all about it here! Love humans, love rights.

Go to Barneys, love your shoes, and spend way too much money, for me.

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