Ashleigh Schmitz
June 24, 2008
New York City is home to some pretty outrageous fashion statements, and it doesn’t help when our “musicians” inspire such catastrophes as the pimp-clock necklace or the parachute pant. But putting the two concepts together yields something particularly painful. Imagine getting on the elevator to go to the gym for a nice run, when as you look down your eyes land on a horrific, eww-inspiring purse (though I hate to think of such an abomination in the same terms as my Coach or Chanel). In fact, you have to take a second glance; it’s a twelve-car sartorial pile-up, and you can't look away. Picture a large, black, patent-leather tote with a wall-clock on the front. This middle-aged woman was carrying what we can only describe as a wall-clock handbag.
Click the links below to score your own! (You might have to loosen the purse strings a little.)
