since i was about 18 maybe a little older, perhaps a little younger, i have been angry with fashion. first it was sundresses. i mean those strappy tops? where was my bra supposed to go? many a time i threatened to go without and show the world! but fear of my mother's wrath kept me in unfashionable tops or t-shirts under the sundresses.
then i discovered the strapless bra and forgot the battle. and now?
the dresses i see in the store windows would look better on my teenage brother than they could ever hope to look on - if i could squeeze them over my ever-expanding hips. plunging necklines, strappy tops, non-existent backs. what the hell? and the models wearing them in the magazines and on the catwalks - i am trying to figure out if designers want them to look like little girls or teenage boys. either way my way out of puberty self is screwed. i look around and i know i am not alone. and i am not even going to discuss what this fashion says about what we are supposed to find desirable.
so this is what i get. when you give up the fight, it emboldens the enemy or at least the mindless designer. and so for this, for dropping the ball, i say - i apologise.
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