They are my passion, my love, my life. I pine for them, I dream about them, I am endlessly entertained simply by looking at the magnitude of the choices available. Buttery soft leather jackets, tight cigarette pants, silky and woollen and cashmere scarves, patterned blouses, glittery and wooden bangles, pinafores, tassels, lace stockings, tartan skirts and skinny leg jeans are all beautiful creations, waiting patiently for someone warm hearted and loving to accept them into their family. I am usually that person.

I do not understand why, or what it is that is so enticing about these pieces of branded cloth, but their allure burns bright in my mind, forever binding me to their beauty and variation.

How can I pass up the chance to own another pair of stunning suede boots, or yet another gorgeous necklace that simply works wonders in bringing any outfit together? Then there are the colours and tones and shapes and sizes, all appropriate for different occasions, yet all beguiling in their own sweet way.

How can I love inanimate objects so much? How can I value style so highly? I don't know, blame the media :P