Added Feb 11, 2017
I was Nike my whole life until I heard Johnny Walker say, just keep walking and do not look back. I celebrated the occasion in my Levi jeans, Red Cap, and Prada shoes for a night to remember. No one could spoil my Happy Hour. So I thought. Until Yin Yang, my ex showed up, and stole the color from my Vuitton. I felt like a Floss and wanted answers. That's when Dr. Martins told me his Gucci secret. But the next day, I was high on Diesel again when the Police stopped me. It happened in DC on the way to the Ritz. I was at Vanity Fair looking for True Religion when they signaled me and asked for my fashion label. Officers, I replied, I do not have an Armani with you. I'm Coco. If you give me your Parker, I'll give you my Rolex signature. But they just stood there like Hugo Boss in Hush Puppies. Their Rayban looks gave me the Fear of God. My legs started to QuickSilver under their Urban Expression, and their Tribal Theory turned my Ambeance into Decay. I knew then that I needed a Vogue update on the latest trends. And before making a DKNY, I reached for my Apple and phoned my Loreal. Hello dear, I am in the deep Dior and might not be sleeping at our Sagebrook home tonight. But like a Good American, the Fashion Police let me off with just a discount voucher for an Xtreme makeover at Xoxo. But in the end, I went back online to support ShineAndre the new kid on the block.
