Guh-ross.

In my rush to get to work today, I managed to double-spritz... with 2 different kinds of perfume. Body Shop's lemon spritz... and Dolce & Gabbana for Women. I smell like a 1920's perfume speakeasy. This, in addition to scented body lotion, means I spent the entire day picturing folks fainting in my wake... coming down with the vapors. Some probably did.

Then there was the decision to wear black tights with open-toed wedges. "Daring", I thought. "Fashion-forward." In those heels I was a solid 6'1, with my red pencil skirt and smart black cardigan.
2 hours later - I was desperately pilfering clear nail polish off of a kind coworker to stop the massive run that began... at the wedge's open toe.

I have very little luck with clothing. A vivid memory comes to mind - of a chunky, rotund little girl on one of her first days of kindergarten, leaning over to pick up her day's work while her mother and teacher gossiped behind her. My pants (my WHITE pants) split right open then and there. The adults busted up laughing.

Then there was the seam-splitting college incident... my Old Navy jeans gave out on the bike ride to class. So there I am desperately performing some sort of triage with a sweater, tying it around my waist and hoping to god just to make it through the day. Somehow, I did.

The year after that, I ripped the thigh of a striped pair of pants wide open on a staircase while drunkenly chatting with friends at my birthday party. Luckily I was in a bit of a goth mood, and extra-large pins to close the tear just looked... well, hot. Those were awesome pants.

But people wonder why I have appearance issues. In addition to clearly needing to lose a few pounds: I DESTROY CLOTHING WHILE IT IS STILL ON ME. My grooming habits occasionally unconsciously double-up because I can't keep my mind on anything, and some girl wore the same dress as me to prom. And looked better. Perhaps I should just print all of this out to hand straight to that therapist waiting patiently in my future, hmm?