Some people were born rich. Most of us were not. I thank my parents for a very comfortable upbringing with few to no real complaints. But I’m not wealthy, if you were wondering.

Many of us dream of a parallel life where maybe we’re a bit more stylish, where time is spent mostly at leisure. Ice cream has fewer calories in this universe.

Evidence lies in the intense neediness and want of escape every time I get my paws on a new Anthropologie catalog. Yes, life should consist of standing in a Kyoto subway station looking like a very chic mental patient with an oversize satchel; not standing in my post office looking like I just made a midnight run for ice and Midol at a 7/11.

This blog won’t necessarily be about being monetarily rich. It’ll be a witness to my parallel life: descriptions of things I covet and wishes in the ether. The name of this blog is tongue-in-cheek, so wonder no more. Please. If anything with my entries, wonder less.

So, World. Here’s to the beginning of my style outlet. Take of it what you like. . .