Post by Daylin Connors on Jul 21, 2007 23:13:40 GMT -5
A single white Steve Madden sling back wedge stepped out onto the asphalt parking lot, the three inch heel elevating the girl to an admirable height of 5'7. Only adding to the illusion of lengthy legs were the A&F dark rinse skinny jeans that clung to her slender tan legs like a second skin.
Low-rise, of course, revealing her tramp stamp: a Juicy Couture crest-esque crown about the size of a RAZR cell phone centered just above her shapely butt with 'Miss California' written just below it in some lovelyy script. Tres cutee, right??
Hugging her surgically enhanced curvy chest was a very fitted olive drab camouflage Ed Hardy tank top sporting a classic "Love is a Gamble" tattoo-style graphic across the chest.
Daylin slid her white Fendi spy bag onto her elbow, holding her hand up so it wouldn't slide off. Using her free hand, she locked the white Lexus SC convertible, dropping the keys into her bag before walking to the entrance of the Starbucks.
She cautiously tugged the heavy glass door, careful not to damage her freshly manicured French-tipped acrylics. Stepping inside, DC slid off her metal-rimmed Dior sunglasses, resting them atop her meticulously straightened platinum blonde locks which cascaded to just past her bust (courtesy of extensions, of course).
Walking right up to the counter, she leaned against the granite as she deliberated over which beverage to order. "Uhmmmm... likee, can I get a grande iced caramel macchiatto?" she asked, fishing out her platinum AmEx from the depths of her overly crowded purse. Slapping it onto the counter, she waited for the clerk to ring it up before returning the plastic rectangle to her hot pink wallet.
The barista handed over her drink minutes later and Daylin took it without so much as a thanks. Daylin Connors doesn't //do// thanks.
Turning on her heels, she sipped the oh-so suhweet coffee drinkk as she crossed the establishment to a vacant armchair over by the window. Sitting down on the ever-comfy purple seat, she crossed one slender jean-clad leg over the other, her pale blue eyes scanning the scene for familiar faces as she sipped her drink.
Low-rise, of course, revealing her tramp stamp: a Juicy Couture crest-esque crown about the size of a RAZR cell phone centered just above her shapely butt with 'Miss California' written just below it in some lovelyy script. Tres cutee, right??
Hugging her surgically enhanced curvy chest was a very fitted olive drab camouflage Ed Hardy tank top sporting a classic "Love is a Gamble" tattoo-style graphic across the chest.
Daylin slid her white Fendi spy bag onto her elbow, holding her hand up so it wouldn't slide off. Using her free hand, she locked the white Lexus SC convertible, dropping the keys into her bag before walking to the entrance of the Starbucks.
She cautiously tugged the heavy glass door, careful not to damage her freshly manicured French-tipped acrylics. Stepping inside, DC slid off her metal-rimmed Dior sunglasses, resting them atop her meticulously straightened platinum blonde locks which cascaded to just past her bust (courtesy of extensions, of course).
Walking right up to the counter, she leaned against the granite as she deliberated over which beverage to order. "Uhmmmm... likee, can I get a grande iced caramel macchiatto?" she asked, fishing out her platinum AmEx from the depths of her overly crowded purse. Slapping it onto the counter, she waited for the clerk to ring it up before returning the plastic rectangle to her hot pink wallet.
The barista handed over her drink minutes later and Daylin took it without so much as a thanks. Daylin Connors doesn't //do// thanks.
Turning on her heels, she sipped the oh-so suhweet coffee drinkk as she crossed the establishment to a vacant armchair over by the window. Sitting down on the ever-comfy purple seat, she crossed one slender jean-clad leg over the other, her pale blue eyes scanning the scene for familiar faces as she sipped her drink.
