In my hoppin’ corner of this smart and cutting edge city, I’ve observed that young white women are setting the standard for how every woman and girl in the world, from Iceland to Budapest, should dress. I, being the obedient lamb that I am, observe these important fashion cues to a T. I can often be seen strutting down South Congress like it’s a runway, brown heels clicking sassily, skeletal hips jutting under jeans with the legs folded up and the waist so low you can just about see my short hairs (if I had any – tee hee!). I’m wearing a dirty-pink (yes there is such a color) maternity-looking shirt, the kind that gathers under your perky bouncing bosoms, them blossoms out girlishly toward your tight little waist. I’m clutching a short-handled sparkly purse to one side of aformentioned bosoms. With the other hand I’m simultaneously talking on a cell phone and walking a Chihuahua on a string. Or better yet, a pit bull.
But really girls, these days, it’s all about the sunglasses. I’m going to let you in on it, because I care. If you’re not wearing enormous, hideous 70’s-looking shades, YOU – ARE – SO – NOTHING. The uglier they make you look, the more attractive you’ll be, somehow, to the scruffy guys with their dirty-looking corduroy pants, sideburns and perfectly mussed hair.
And the incredibly super uber-exciting thing I have to tell you is: I started the bug-eyes trend! It’s amazing, isn’t it? Little bitty me! See, the searing equatorial Texas sunlight started making me see things, like funny soaring black dots and hilarious pre-migraine prisms. So I bought myself a pair of those granny shades that wrap around the entire upper half of your face. I started wearing them all over town. Then, about four months later, it caught on – and now EVERY GIRL’S GOT BIG ONES! Except mine are the biggest, and some would say ugliest. Which makes me the High Princess of South Congress, and thus World, Fashion.
Shouldn’t I be winning some kind of plaque?
Well, maybe the grannies should win it.