I’m having the hardest time writing today.
My brain is trying to escape through my eyeballs, all of my children are coughing up mini lungs, Rich has blown his nose so many times and too closely to me that I think I’m going to start looking for a new boyfriend.
So I’m angry at the world.
Three seconds ago I decided screw you guys, I’m not blogging today. In defiant downcast mode, my eyes met the neckline of my new dress, and Voila! Blogpost.
You don’t care about my new dress? That’s fair. But it’s the only thing keeping me afloat today.
I want to tell the five of you who don’t already know this: the 80s are back. I know, it’s nuts.
I’ve seen it here and there–acid washed jean shorts, high-waisted pleat pants, flower print–but I thought those were the weird cool kids. Little did I know: EVERYONE is dressing like this now.
A few days ago I made a stand. Fist to the heavens and shorts of a kid ago lodged in a fat roll, I vowed never to spend another moment crying in my wardrobe. I ridded it–maniacally–of its atrocities, donned one of my mom’s handmedowns (about which I get the most compliments) and headed out mission: Restock. I started at, where else? Forever21.
Now, I don’t know if Forever21 is different in Boca. It is at a mall at which half of the patrons are genetically effed-up pedigrees in strollers and whose parking lot has its own detailing service, so whatever. This Forever21 is packed TWO FLOORS deep in 80s regalia.
I’m very much digging this punky 80s redo. Bodysuits, tie dye, mismatched neons? I’m for it.
In high school and college I wore strange things under the guise of not giving a sh*t. Really I just hated my thighs, so I wore things to detract attention. Who knew that a ladybug backpack and pleather trench coat attracted attention? Hm.
Now that I’ve embraced my fertility-goddessness (some might call it my ‘Iletmyselfgo-ness’) I have a lot more fun with trends-of-the-minute. I still don’t know why stores don’t pay top dollar for proper fitting-room lighting, but I can laugh at myself. And I really think that curvy is in these days, so I’m not at a loss for spending money.
So I did just that. I got a drapey, glorified sweatshirt, two graphic tees (I’d love to make fun of them with you, but I have Target band tees so I’m a tool) and the same dress I probably threw away twenty years ago. I can wear boots with all of them and no one will look at me funny. Because it’s the…um…00s? The double Ohs? the oooohs? the 2000s? Whatever, it’s the 80s again.