My boyfriend makes fun of me because all I ever wear are Toms, jeans and vintage T-shirts. I’ve always dressed in the same simple style. Do I have to change for him?
I don’t own a pair of pants.
When I walk into the newsroom with tights under my skirt, the journo masses go bananas in wonderment until they realize they’re tights.
Point: I wear skirts and Converse every single day. I’m too tall to buy “tall” jeans (“tall,” my white ass). Ergo, I’ll suffer in my skirt in –6 degrees with windchill.
So, I’m style-stuck like you. This cotton/spandex/canvas getup has reaped me many an accolade, criticism, gossip.
And guess who gives a fat shit?
I may be cold but at least I don’t look like an asshole in jeggings.
You should be concerned about your comfort only — unless your man puts forth a fancy effort to look nice when he swoons you in an exotic jaunt to Country Buffet. In this case, maybe slap on a sparkle or two — or grandma’s doily, glow sticks, ruby slippers, what have you.
There’s no harm in dressing up every now and then, homegirl. My version of dress-up is the respectable-looking Chucks and the fancy thigh-highs. I found my own splash, thus you can find yours.
If he is still adamant about changing your style, then tell him to squeeze his beer gut into a pair of meggings and a bandeau top.
Boys don’t squeeze into shit. He’ll shut the suck up real quick.
Everyone I know is making New Year’s resolutions and I don’t feel like it. I’m lazy and I know I won’t follow through with it anyway. My girlfriend is pissed I’m not making a resolution. Should I just pretend like I am?
— 2013, whatever
Change at its finest:
Firstly, it’s none of your girlfriend’s damn business about your so-called resolution.
What if you were silently resolving to stop looking at geriatric porn? Or stroking it in your flamingo costume?
I think resolutions are stupid. (Yeah!) Mainly because I don’t want to quit smoking/drinking/video gaming/Gangnam Styling.
Instead of… I’m going to eat better; I’m going to lose 10 pounds; I’m going to stop banging the neighbor’s wife.
Do… I’m going to capture every stray pup and find its owner; I’m going to dance like an asshole; I’m going to get laid four more times before tomorrow.
You don’t have to ride El Bandwagon de Resolution (let’s make a spaghetti western!), but if you put your best foot forward (that’s not a foot, pervert), then maybe your karma will start making out with your dharma.
Explosions a rife!
Get a room.