Jeggings. “Sometimes, with a nice tunic top and cute booties….” NO. NO. NO. NO.

Make no mistake, I have not done this. I wear either black LEGGINGS or JEANS. Never the combination. However, when walking in the city recently I saw a shop window with a massive sign: “HUGE JEGGINGS SALE!!!”

I mean, upon first glance, my instinct within my instinctual self said, “They are on sale. What could hurt?”

What could hurt is the ridiculous look of my thighs in a pair of faux jeans. I already struggle with the exta 3 layers of cotton stitch on a pair of demins, like I need THAT added to my thighs. I mean, with my body the way it is, all my fat goes to my stomach or directly to my inner thighs. Jeggings. Psshh. Please. Real denim doesn’t dent and pucker. People would so know within a second of seeing me in a pair that i was wearing JEGGINGS.

Not to mention that everything is made in China and triple the price here in Perth.Another thing I would like to mention is that Perthonians are totally getting duped! Take for example the store called Valley Girl. Valley Girl is basically a Blue Echo or a Fashion Bug. If you have never stepped foot in one of these stores, congrats, you have more than two quid to rub togeva, luv. For the rest of us who have actually shopped in these shitholes, we know that the value of a $10 blouse is actually $3.95, and after one good go in the washer machine, it will be used to wipe stains off the kitchen floor.

Now, take that same shirt, worth $3.95, hang it up in a store in Perth, change the price tag to $19.99 and wear it. Wear it often.

I hate clothes. I hate paying for clothes. But I am a slave to the environment I am in. In this environment, I have to dress well or no one will talk to me. No one.

“They’re all gonna laugh at you. They’re all gonna laugh at you….”

I can either be Carrie Bradshaw or that other Carrie. The one everyone laughed at.

And when people laugh at me because Im a terrible dresser, I get all telekinetic and throw things with my mind powers. So for now, I have to get up, shower, (I HATE SHOWERING!) comb my hair (I HATE COMBING MY HAIR) brush my teeth (I actually like brushing my teeth) and put on lipchap and wear skirts and pretty things.

Since the sun here is unforgiving, I got a hat today. It is one of those big movie star floppy hats and covers my face and neck and shoulders. No more trucker hats with a middle finger on it for me—-im a lady now. Ladies don’t wear jeggings, we wear fancy hats and say enchante when people say hello to us and ask us if we are on our last egg. Yes. I am. 32 years old and now my eggs are worthless. Thanks, Universe.