I have really enjoyed shopping lately and I feel very guilty about that. I've always prided myself on not caring what I looked like, not being impressed by labels, etc. However, in the last year I've been exploring my feminine side (which has been long neglected). I've been wearing a lot of pink, wearing clothes that fit. I even wear a skirt now and again. And nail polish. These are big steps for a tomboy like myself. I own a Coach purse. This is serious shit.
Anyway, today I went into the Ambercrombie and Fitch in our suburban fake downtown for the first time. I've been afraid to go in there because during the grand opening, they had an attractive young man with no shirt standing outside the door and that made me uncomfortable (I blame that on being raised Protestant). DMC needs a very specific size pants to fit his mutant-like frame (30 x 34) and we thought maybe we could find some there.
Turns out, Abercrombie and Fitch smells like every person I have ever instantly hated ever in my entire life. It reeks of assholeness. And that stink clung to me for hours - even whilst I ate my Red Snapper Nagiri sushi several hours later.
So, I've determined that a) I've become a capitalist pig but b) not so much that I'm not offended by extremes.
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