Friday, August 11, 2006

Never Going Back Again





Mad,

You did this to me once.




Don't do it again.


Someone wake me up when the leggings and skinny jeans thing is kaput. I'll be sleeping, nestled under a pile of everyone's cast-off 501s and wide-leg Banana Republic trousers and shrug-sweaters.

Someone has it out for us, and I want to know who.

I don't blame you, O Material One. You seem more concerned with being the strictest renounced-Catholic mother on the planet, even if you don't dress all tight-bunned and frumpy like that.

No, it's someone more like that Keebler Elf stylist (she's 33? yeah, right) who "styles" (?) looks for walking tongue depressors like Nicole Ritchie and that other one who goes with Legolas.

Why in the hell would I wear anything that not only gives me bad dairy-caliber abdominal cramps, but also squeezes flesh out of both the top and bottom of it, like some perverse tube of chocolate-chip cookie dough?

I ain't Pillsburying myself that way.

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