Today, I went to Beverly Hills with the BFF and she had to hiss “Cher!” at me before I noticed Cher standing right by us in the Neiman Marcus shoe department! I turned to gawk at Cher, who looked just like herself only much smaller. She is actually quite tiny, in height and weight. She said to her assistant/handmaiden something like, “It’s really cute, isn’t it?” and her voice was EXACTLY like her voice!

I was so excited that I couldn’t stop staring. My BFF wanted me to stop, but I didn’t care. I wanted to take in every element: The black cargo pants with a million zippers, the long blue-black hair, the sunglasses that she never took off. When Cher sat down and removed her jacket to reveal a tight black bodysuit, I squealed, “Oooh, look at the implants!”

My BFF managed to move me along and we went upstairs, only to find Cher in the same place 30 minutes later. Her assistant/handmaiden was helping her to try on jackets, which she held open for Cher like an attentive date.

We tried on sunglasses while I kept an eye on Cher. I modeled a pair of sunglasses by some stupid brand I’ve never heard of, that the salesgirls were pushing aggressively. “Aren’t these glorious!” I exclaimed a little too loudly, raising the eyebrows of a gay guy who clearly didn’t agree. Everyone tried to persuade me that another pair was more flattering but I was fixated on the glorious ones.

Meanwhile, Cher was strutting around in the new Olive green Balmain military jacket.

It looked preposterous on her but she seemed quite taken with it. I turned to the salesgirls and squealed, “Look! Cher is trying on the Balmain jacket!” They nodded and the gay guy confided, “She likes Balmain.” I complained to the BFF that Cher should leave that jacket to the girl whose boyfriend hits her. It took a while before she retrieved the word, “Rihanna.”

I bought the glorious sunglasses with ny NM charge card, meaning they were free! Don’t tell my husband.

Then, we walked down the street to Saks. A frightening, giant Nordic woman showed me some awful new lipstick by Guerlain, and the BFF bought a sexy bustier by Camilla and Marc. We relaxed in the Saks cafe, where I ate an apple tart that cost $9 and started to realize that the sunglasses were a tragic mistake.

But at least I saw Cher!

Are you feeling the Cher?!

I asked my husband to say something funny, so I could smile while modeling this feather bolero.   This is the result. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to repeat what he said to make me laugh.

The bolero is a gift from my Queen Marie, who also managed to find these badges somewhere:

How does she do it??   We are engaged in a gifting folie à deux that has brought me more joy than I can express.   A package from Queen Marie is a very special event, and I look forward to trying to outdo her in brilliance and generosity.

The bonds we make out in cyberspace are kind of magical, aren’t they? I guess it’s because of their serendipity. It’s not all about being a cunt.