Addicted to Haute Couture

I looked once and I was immediately disgusted. My head was clouded with words I never thought I would hear. "Do it again!" It screams, screeching my head with intensity.

Something about it made me feel dirty, it unleashed a side that seemed golden and unruffled.  It was bad but I wanted more, slowly calling me, inviting me to the darker world of ignorance, lust and unlawful pleasure.

It seduced me to lose control and without it rage etched inside of me. Everyone smelt my dirty, undressed me with words of abomination and their eyes woke self-reproach.

I wanted more, I craved more, my inner malignant spirit was uncontrollable and I couldn't hide it. "You need this" the rascal cited and as a poignant soul. I need it and I am addicted!

But when I wore those Luis's everything made sense, the world turned around with me! The feeling of skin tight jeans made everyone swipe their forbidden cards and the smell of new apparel mesmerized every soul. We are addicted to Haute Couture - french for high fashion!