With each move, I’d fill bag after bag of no longer needed stuff. What was one person’s crap was another person’s treasure. Or whatever. Either way, I thought I was paring down quite nicely. I was embracing the whole simple living thing. Or at least pretending to. Really I was just getting rid of the fat pants/skinny pants â€“ insert whichever fits.
Heroine chic was all the rage. And while I couldn’t compete with the waifs, I certainly had the chest for the tops I liked. And then I tried on a WonderBra.
“Comfy”? There’s not a whole lot worse you could call a person, without being straight-out rude! lululemon is the best – and worst – thing to happen to a girl since the invention of lycra.
Those crazy Swedes have gone and named nursing clothes Boob. Genius. In name and in nature.
April showers bring May flowers. So what do March snowstorms bring? An excuse to go out and buy new boots.
Is cheap the new black?
Sexy, hip, flattering.
The thing is, I am and always have been a clog girl. A sleepover camp staple if there ever was one. Until they were banned. ‘Cuz all the girlies (and some boys) were tripping over their feet and spraining their ankles. But still, dragging your heels, clip-clopping along in your clogs…nothing beat it.
It’s the perfect summer flick. And not just a chick flick either. Boys, don’t be afraid: the cinema was packed with your kind. It was actually kinda weird how many men were there. Straight men. Maybe they came to pick up women. Or maybe they were out to revel in their true metrosexuality. Whatever, they enjoyed it too.
I’ve been wrong before and (gasp!) I just might be again. I was definitely wrong when I said I would never pay over $100 for jeans. HA HA HA HA HA. I blame it on Adriano Goldschmied.
I walked in wearing one outfit, walked out in another. And then shopped at a different Olive & Bette’s in yet another O & B combo. Talk about wearing the concert-T to the concert!!