Top from a boutique | F21 skirt | Nine West shoes
Kate Spade bag | Winky Designs watch
[ Photos by Jeffrey Hau ]
I’ve been craving Japanese food in the form of sashimi and rolls for the past week. So yesterday, I went to one of my favorite places for sushi in Vancouver — Shiro. If you’ve never been, it’s delicious. But it gets pretty packed for dinner and you may occasionally find yourself waiting for a table.
All in all, I had a good time. How can you not have a good time with negitoro, spicy scallop, fresh oysters, toro, wild salmon, tako sashimi and some Asahi? Dinner came to an end with the bill and a pack of Pockey for dessert. I grabbed my wallet, took out my credit card and added it to the pile of plastic cards. Going back to attentively listening to the on-going conversation… for about 2 seconds, I got distracted by a striped blue and white cloth on the table beside my hand. WTF is that? My fcking underwear, AGAIN. Yes, my (clean) underwear was there, lying on the table, in a restaurant, exposed to the world.
Obviously, I snatched it up in one quick, dynamic movement that caused one person at the table to look at me with a ?!?! face. And then, I just clenched on to it. Frozen. Slightly mortified. And trying really hard not to laugh.
There seems to be a recurring theme here. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, refer to my Vegas incident. You’re probably wondering why I had underwear in my bag to begin with. I was carrying around a change of clothes with me. Pants, shirt, tank top, socks. And of all those things that I could have grabbed while grabbing my wallet, my underwear decided to be the asshole.
On a closing note, I thought this story was perfect for this super feminine and girly outfit post. Because I’m such a horrific lady.