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The Fashion Confessional Is Open

My standards for an acceptable level of cat hair on a black garment are slipping. Steadily.

Whenever I buy something new, I put it aside until I can take the time to create at least three outfits around it and jot them down. I am always in a rush when getting dressed and if I don’t do this, I’ll either never wear the new thing or wear it nine times in a row because it’s shiny and new.

I’ve priced out real drawer dividers and they’re wicked expensive, so I’m using a torn up cardboard shipping box. Works just fine. Though someday I hope to upgrade.

I miss shopping at H&M and Gap. I’ll never do it again, but dang. Loved the designs. (At least I can thrift ’em.)

I have plans for another tattoo but can’t think of where to put it. This annoys the crap out of me.

Due to the level of cat hair in my home (see above), it’s impossible to sit on the couch without becoming entirely encrusted. I don’t want too much cat hair on my clothes OR in my bed/on my PJs, so some of my loungewear has been relegated to a class of clothing HM has dubbed “pre-Js.”

I’m gradually culling out my jewelry, but can’t quite bear to donate the castoffs. No idea why. Most of it is sitting in a hopelessly tangled mass in a bag in my closet.

If I feel someone has been costumed poorly on a TV show or in a movie, I yell at the screen. BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY IT’S GOING TO HELP FOR ME TO DO THAT.

Got anything you’d like to confess?

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