Posted April 4, 2008 by Heather Gilbert
Let me be honest with you. In my fantasy world, I would not have a full-time job. Actually, I wouldn’t have a job at all. I would be an independently wealthy hipster who would spend her time globe-trotting.
It’s true. I would return from Marrakesh with not only the perfect Christmas card photo (“oh I was just wandering in the souk and the light was just remarkable”) but also with an iPhone full of latest and greatest. I’m not talking about a new Hilton that plonked itself down in the land of exotic, I’m talking real gems here. I picture myself Vespa-ing up to dinner, only to find Brangelina already seated, pouring over photos of their soon-to-be-adopted child. There I am, scooping up a caftan on a side street two full seasons before Tory Burch can say "effortless chic". Alas, dear readers, this is not the life I lead.
So what’s a girl trapped in the real world to do? At least I have fabsearch. Isn’t the name even reassuring? No longer do I have to Google for hotels like a commoner, I can fabsearch them. Fabsearch bills itself as the "ultimate travel and going out guide." So far so good. They go on to say that we should think of them as our own "private secretary who reads glossy magazines, speaks to local trendsetters, then reports valuable info to you." You had me at private secretary.
With content and reviews pulled from such venerable sources as Elle, Vogue, W and Wallpaper, you can trust that the information you’re getting is as à la mode as pie and ice cream. Now, if they could only figure out how to get me a massive trust fund, I’d be all set.
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