Although I hand-wash my bras every Sunday, I put my tights in the washing machine. And the dryer. My heather gray pair is now approximately as tall as ME.
I have never watched a single episode of “Project Runway,” have only caught “Top Model” in occasional reruns, and worship Trinny and Susannah via their books only.
I cannot iron. I send stuff out to get professionally pressed. When I do iron, I make matters worse.
I let my hair air dry. Every day. It frequently takes four hours to become completely dry. I have no earthly idea how to blow it dry and no real desire to learn.
I don’t know how to pronounce most designer names. Luckily, the only one I say them aloud to is Husband Mike, and he doesn’t know any better.
I positively loathed “Sex and the City.” Forced myself to watch three seasons on DVD before accepting that I would never, ever relate to nor care about a single character on that show.
I washed my face with Dial soap until about five years ago. And wondered why I was breaking out all the time.
My favorite part about shopping is placing the newly acquired item in my closet. I’m a Capricorn, what can I say?
Image courtesy It’sGreg.