I love Orla.

I promise I do not shop all the time...even though my blog may make it appear that way. I'm a constant "browser" of many things, but thankfully not always a "buyer". In my crazy-browsing ways, I often see something someone is wearing or carrying and can't help but ask where they got it. I had one such moment this past weekend, but unfortunately it was as I was driving - so there wasn't really a way to not look like some freakish stalker if I rolled down the window to yell - "hey! where did you get that bag?!" So, instead, it became a challenge...a goal to find that stinkin' cute handbag and all of it's potential coordinating wallets, clutches, cosmetic bags, you name it.

(Yes, I have a slight obsession with shoes and handbags. They say that acknowledging your addiction is the first step toward recovery. The step before that is to go on a crazy handbag shopping spree. So far, so good.)

*clearing throat* Moving on.

Tonight I finally found it! It was a glorious and tragic moment all rolled into one. Glorious in discovering an entire line of goooorgeous little bags that just ooooze personality, tragic when I saw the pricetag. I'm thinking about starting a facebook group to help raise funds for my first Orla. For every $25 you give, I'll design your monogram, how's that?! :) Kidding....kidding...but not about how much I love the bags. Did I say how cute and colorful and perfectly oversized without being awkwardly huge they are? Did I tell you she also has a line of clothing and if you saw the bikinis you might pass out from cuteness overload?! I'm sorry. I'll stop now. Save yourself while you can. Do not go to this site. Whatever you do. Don't go there. Don't look at this bag and dream of the perfect pair of shoes to go with it. Don't do it.

I did. *hanging head in shame*

I start my 12-step recovery program tomorrow.