And she thought, I MUST HAVE THAT CAMI.
If I have the right lacy white cami, and the right plaid flannel shirt, and artistically ripped jean shorts, and perfectly stompy boots, I CAN BE AS HOT AS ALICIA SILVERSTONE.
Just like this.
So she looked high and low for the perfect cami. At Uptons and Target and KMart and the mall. But they were never perfect. Too high-cut, too bazoonga-bearing, too lacy, not lacy enough.
And so camis and plaid flannel shirts went out of style before the girl ever found the right cami, and so she was never as hot as Alicia Silverstone.
Fast forward sixteen years.
The girl finds a pajama tank top on the 75% off rack at Target for $2.48. She buys it, thinking you can never have too many tank tops.
She puts it on with her new jeans and looks in the mirror and has a startling realization.
An imperfect cami on a confident woman at 33 is 1000 times hotter than a perfect cami on an idiot at 16.
And that, friends, is the lesson of the cami.
Also, that song still rocks.
6 comments:
Addendum lessons:
1. No boob tattoos.
2. Never kiss Stephen Dorff.
Be careful what you say about boob tattoos. Urfa has a picture of my face covering her chest. It's spectacular.
Well, if I can't stop her from kissing Stephen Dorff, then I can't stop her from mutilating her boobage. She's a lost cause.
~lazy d.
ah, upton's. the kohl's of our youth.
OMG - THAT IS TOTALLY SAWYER FROM LOST THAT STEALS HER BACKPACK! HAHAHA :)
ZOMG IT WAS. I HAD NO IDEA.
Even then, I remember thinking he was cute. Not as much as Leonardo diCaprio and Johnny Depp, of course. But cute.
It's like a teeny, tiny, butterfly-foot-sized puzzle piece has dropped into place in my brain. Ahhh.
~unsleepy d.
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