My Mother and I were talking in the kitchen the other day about my weekend happenings with the emphasis on my fashion choices.
I have designer clothes from New York, Milan and Paris, etc...and of course most of it is sexy and daring especially my thigh high boots that I love. I wish I could afford those Chanel thigh highs but at $1750, alas my bank account has fallen short these days...
Anyhoo:
My style floats in all the fore mentioned cities, like a sailboat does on crystal blue water but not in this town. We are a big town that likes to think we are a small city but were not--were a big town and like a town anything out of the norm scares the dickens out of the kin folk.
I am used to the stares, the whispers, the whatever makes them feel better about themselves conversations..it doesn't bother me. I like who I am and I really don't need the affirmations of strangers to fill me self-esteem gravy boat. I certainly wont lose sleep over the ones that really don't like me either--after all, its their issue not mine.
Even my Mom will get a dig in once in awhile. I am still not clear if she means it or if at her age she fails to see the use of fashion as a mark, or perhaps her European sense of adventure is diminishing in wake of a more americanized conservative tradition
WOW..that almost made me sound like a brunette.
Where was I?! Oh, yes...the nasty remark
"Well, Mother, I was wearing an Ungaro coat..I think they thought I was famous"
"Maybe they thought you were an expensive hooker"
"AAAHHHGHGG!"
"Mother, what happened?!"
"I burned myself"
"Hmm..must be Jesus getting you back for saying mean things to me! "
"Better watch out Mother, I surrendered, I have the original Godfather looking out for me!!"
I think I am getting this religion thing down. Its like having your own personal bodyguard--maybe that's why they call him the savior.?!
Who can we burn next?!!!
Blondes love having a bodyguard!!
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