insipid bubble gum pop drivel.

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it's all I'm thinking of

I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain't looking for love
I shop for purses while love walks out the door
Don't cry, buy a bag and get over it...

What I know is that I'm always happy when I walk out the store
I'm guessing Supercalifragi-sexy, nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him, tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Love's like a runway
But which one do I love more?
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love's like a runway, so what's all the fussing for?
Let's stop chasing them boys and shop some more.


well, fergie has done it again. another ode to high-end designers. another catchy tune devoid of meaning or spirit.
the lyrics are reminiscent of a 12-year old girl's fanciful songwriting on the bus ride home.
another hit quickly thrown together with the sole purpose of making a huge wad of cash.
this song embodies everything that true musicians and music connoisseurs hate about pop music and the general degradation of the object of their affections.
you know, i'll go as far as to say that this song is what's wrong with popular music.




and i effing love it.

the tune has been on my iPod for only 3 days, and i'm already up to about 30 plays. at the gym. on the bus. in my kitchen. i can't get enough of this ridonkulous stuff. "solid gold sh*t," eh?

i would've had more plays under my fergie belt, but iTunes foiled my attempts to download it. after seeing SATC friday evening, i rushed home and hopped online to try to d/l this song, which was stuck in my poor, ever-stupidering (?) head. and iTunes screamed out, "ALBUM ONLY, FOCKER!"

well, iTunes, i beat you. thanks to my little music faErie, i got the song. SUCK ON THAT!