I had adventures today!
First – I went to this clothing swap. You bring in some old clothes and you get to leave with new old clothes. I am, admittedly, a horrible packrat. I’m so bad at throwing things away. With clothes, I’m basically saving things for three reasons:
1. Nostalgia. The t-shirt Ian bought for me that says “Abortion Tickles” (romantic!), the my “Senior Women” tshirt from high school with the nickname on the back that no one ever really called me, etc.
2. In case Lauren has stylish kids. This is, in other words, the “in case it comes back into style” excuse, but that never actually happens. By the time a style comes back into style, it’s just slightly different enough that the genuine old stuff looks weird and ugly. Unless! You’re super-stylish. So in case Lauren’s daughters are super-stylish, or I guess Jen and Vivid Boobie’s, or whoever else wants to have daughters that they allow me to hang out with, I’m saving my furry red polyester tank top, and my pleather pants, and my black pleather-snakeskin cowboy hat. (Why all the pleather? I had frankly not noticed that before.)
One thing I need save no longer, for any reason: My hot-pink tube top.
Oh – I’m sorry. Is hot pink a little too much for you? Well, good thing this baby is reversible!
We got us some soft pink, too, for that innocent look. In fact, the straps are even removable, in case it’s too conservative for you as-is.
True story: the last time time (the only time, I swear to god, really, I promise, if it helps) I wore this shirt (“shirt”) was to the Granada with my sister and one of her douchebag boyfriends. If you’re not from Kansas, you might not realize all that saying “I wore a hot pink tube top to the Granada with my older sister” means, but trust me, it’s not good news. If it helps you to understand the situation a little better, let me add: I wore it with the pleather snakeskin cowboy hat.
I took a picture of myself with the hat, too, but I just cannot bring myself to post it.
Jesus christ – I’m sitting here remembering that I admitted to a student a week or two ago that I have a blog. Dear Student, PLEASE DO NOT FIND MY BLOG PLEASE. Love, Jessica’s Tube Top. Screw the shot of me ferociously sucking Nutella off the blade of a knife; screw the shot of me with a giant beet stuck in my front teeth. These two pictures are officially tied for Most Embarrassing Photo of Jessica, Ever. Why on earth do I keep putting this shit on the internet? I don’t have to do this. Why did I do this? Even as I type this I am realizing I could, theoretically, not post this. And yet.
Anyway – got rid of the tube top today at the swap. Traded it in for various other things I will likely never wear, either, including some kind of wacky Brit Pop military jacket that’s two sizes too big, and a ratty Kurt Cobain sweater with a hole in it that I bought imagining I would throw it on in case I’m like, out at the beach for a picnic or a clam bake or a bonfire party or something and it starts to get chilly at night. …You know. For all of the picnics and clam bakes and bonfire beach parties that I go to all the time. Also this dress, which I can’t tell if it’s like Twiggy-cute, or 15-year-old-at-the-mall-not-cute. My face looks like this because Erwin has just jumped up onto the table and is about to rub his face against my barely-balanced camera and knock it over: