I know, I know…I’m witty, wonderful and totally gorg…ready to showcase all of this delicious-ness to the rest of the world. I am dangling on the CUSP of fame and celebrity, darling.

HOLD! For once in my self-absorbed existence,  I understand that some forces are greater even than moi! And this force is not really on the CUSP of greatness…in reality, it is the greatness that is CUSP.

Halleluuuu-jah! Halle-lu-u-u-jah!

The hipster little sis to Neiman Marcus, CUSP is the fashionista’s dream home. Now, I know I majorly HEART the mall, but who hasn’t fantasized about living in their fave store?

Though CUSP has the totally typical boutique lines- Tory B, T-Bags (*giggle*giggle) and Trina Turk, their presentation of these lines is anything but run-of-the-mill.

As you float through the front doors (floating is mandatory for all heavenly places…DUH), Tory’s fringey suede tote swings from a tree branch mid-store, while Trina and Tibi hang from suspended wires. Hell, you’ll even feel cool when picking up TB’s totally mainstreamed Reva flat. (Thanks for that one, college co-eds…)

You're beautiful!

Amidst the tried-and-true designers-  ya know, DVF, Milly, Marc and Vince- are lesser-known, but equally “kill your-self” brands like Elizabeth&James, Pencey and my new personal fave- Rozae Nichols.

I swear, I quasi-blacked out when I laid eyes on this acidic green silk/spandex number. And that patent-leather halter strap-UGH! Makes me want to put a belt around my own neck and just DIEEEEE!

To induce even more suicidal thoughts is the shoe section at CUSP. It is a true “Kumbaya” moment, combining the funky wonder that is Goddess-Gwen’s L.A.M.B with the classic-shoe goodness of Manolo.

Little LAMB, who made thee?

Bajillion-dollar Loubouitons co-exist peacefully with the young professionals’ gate-way shoe, Sam Edelman. For those cynics who don’t believe in the possiblity of a bi-partisan America, head straight to Georgetown CUSP.

At this moment, I must borrow words from Shrek. “And I saw those shoes, now I’m a believer!” Wait…did he not say shoes?

N-ty-ways…There’s just something about CUSP that infuses immediate Carrie Bradshaw-ness into each and every visitor. Between passing out cold and waking up only to dial Dr. Kevorkian, you will believe once more that runway ain’t got nothin’ on retail.