Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Bright Lies, Big City

My roommate thinks I need new clothes. I don't. She says I have cute outfits but I need more of them. Fine. I pride myself on living minimally. Closet space in most NYC apartments is non-existent. So,what's the point of having all of these clothes if you have nowhere to put them, right? But the deep dark truth is...I hate shopping. I hated shopping so much as a kid that I would rather just let my Mom do it and suffer the consequences later. It made for some horribly atrocious outfits. When I go back home to visit I cringe at so many pictures that are up around the house because I never looked my age. I can't even recognize myself in those pictures. Anyone who sees the photos can't believe it's me in the pictures. I didn't look like a teenager not so secretly trying to pass for 21, like so many of my peers. Instead I looked 35. My high school yearbook photo looks like I'm a real estate agent. I'm not going to describe in detail what I was wearing, but I'll give you a hint..."fuschia business suit with a white camisole". All of my peers were listening to "Whoomp There It Is" and I was dressed like I had to close a deal on a property listing. It's a miracle I had friends. The only reason I haven't burned that yearbook is because somebody took pity on me, and had enough mercy to run the picture in black and white. It's my my dirty little technicolor secret.


Blogger Sister Mary Lisa said...

Oh my God, I am SUCH a perfect candidate for "What Not to Wear." I HATE SHOPPING. Worse, I hate going in the dressing room while shopping.

The last time I went swimsuit shopping was enough to make me want to take sandpaper to my eyeballs, it was that bad.

12:13 PM  
Blogger Manola Blablablanik said...

I hear ya ... my sister actually NOMINATED me for that show. ugh!

5:03 PM  

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