I never said I was the most fashionable person in the world. Never did I once make that claim. The only thing that changes for me every day is the shirt I choose to go with one of my fifteen pairs of black leggings, and boots to wear. My Marc Jacobs watch helps.
I guess.
In any case – as usual – this is not about me, but about the skanks I am so very privileged to see every day.
I’m really sorry. Skanks is probably too harsh a word. BUT GUESS WHAT? IT’S A HARSH WORLD.
Coming back.
The guts some people have when they leave the house just baffles me.
You don’t look classy – I KNOW that bothers Ron Burgundy, but who it should really bother is you.
What makes you think people want to see all your junk at all hours of the day? Time and place, babe. Best bet? Nighttime, in a grimy bar swarming with sexual predators.
But honestly, do people have eyes? Like, do ya LOOK in the mirror before you leave?
The Mirror and the Queen are disgusted, and your mother would be too.
You’re “skankalicious” as I like to say. (It’s the more fabulous version of TRASHY, LIKE THE BAG.)
How in G-d’s name do you not feel embarrassed at what you’re choosing to put on your body? Pull up your shirt, saw-down your shoes, Windex off some of that eyeliner, and dress how society expects you to. You’d be better off as a Hipster. Atleast they have class, and bikes.
While you’re at it, do me a personal favor and go home and count how many pairs of $6 silver hoops from Claire’s you have floating around your room – the ones you’ve craftily managed to keep rust off of since the 7th grade. I’m curious.
I feel bad for most of these people because you know what? Their friends suck. Don’t you think somebody, somewhere would tell them, “Ehhhhhh, you know, you might not wanna wear that”?
Apparently not.
HonestallieSpeaking #13: You should NOT be wearing that.
honestalliespeaking 