By Katie Cassidy | Photography by Stephen Bimson
I get obsessed with things. It is true. I find a lipstick I love and I wear it until it is down to the nub (or my friends tell me the vamp look is over… which will be NEVER). I learn a new hairdo and I do it until there is no doing it anymore. And when I get on a kick about a particular area of my closet (this month it happens to be over the knee boots), I go out and find myself obsessively purchasing (or looking to purchase) one (or two) in every color.
I am not sure what it is about me as a person that makes me decide I am lacking in sweaters and then forces me to only buy sweaters for two months straight, but this is who I am. A person that falls so deeply in love with a look that I can’t imagine wearing anything else. I can’t begin to contemplate why anyone wouldn’t want to spend all of their allocated shopping time staring at ripped denim, that is, until the moment I become transfixed on something else.
I have a one track mind.
I have a one track mind. And right now that track reads like a Jay-Z song, “Tom Ford, Tom Ford, Tom Ford, Tom Ford.”