Fashionably Pug Ugly

This is possibly one of the best Louis Vuitton campaigns EVER. A vintage soft-top car, soldier hats, fur coats...oh, and a pug. Two pugs. Double the cutest quadrupeds with faces that look like they collided with a brick wall ever to grace a fashion shoot. There is another shot with models holding spaniels, but who honestly gives a poodle about that?

The wrinkly prune of the dog-world is a star on the rise at the moment. They are much loved by the fashion pack, even though we should probably recoil in horror at a glimpse. Everyone from Brix Smith-Start to Jessica Alba has one (or two), planting the thought in my head maybe they have an ulterior motive in owning one. Stand next to anything ugly and you instantly become more beautiful. It's the beauty by comparison theory; ugly dog = gorgeous owner. You look the compassionate hero by taking one in, and just because it fell out of the ugly tree, hitting every branch on the way down, doesn't diminish your love and devotion. It's the ultimate Pity Pet - the canine Jennifer Aniston, if you will. You want to take it under your wing to nurture, but no one finds it attractive. Just a little bit pathetic.

I have wanted a pug for a couple of years now. I've even named my FFF (future fashion friend). She shall be called Angela Lansbury, partly due to the resemblance of her actor counterpart, partly because I want to go to a park and shout "Angela Lansbury, it's time to go back on your leash now!" My aunt even got me a small toy pug with its namesake engraved on a bone-shaped collar tag hung around her neck. Ask my six year old cousin who Lansbury is and she'll tell you firmly she's a puppy. I have warped my family's association with the name to the point they no longer think of Murder, She Wrote, like normal people, but of a small wet-nosed creature who does its business by a lamp post (for all I know this describes the real Angela too, but I don't know how to go about finding this out).

Sadly, I'll have to wait a while longer before Pug Angie scampers her way to me. My Dad, with whom I live, hates dogs. They smell, malt, they bark and drool, not to mention we are both allergic. Still, some day I vow to own at least one. However, I do imagine the whole situation getting out of hand. I fear I'll end up adopting about 12 puppies and live out my golden years as a recluse with a brood of pugs each named after Dynasty characters ("Blake Carrington! Get off Crystal!").

Actually, I'm secretly quite excited.

Peace

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