A bewildered morning after slough. Brown circles deepening around the eyes, a bruisy pallor in the cheeks. The air heavy with the musty smell of regret and shame. There-in her bed- was that narcotic friendly suckboy from last night. The one she thought looked like James Dean after 3 Sidecars, drooling on her pillowcase and reeking of gin. Gin is for pansies, she grunted. What have I done with my life?
Articulated cocktails? Really? Is that what we’re calling them now? Fat, smelly candles (unicorn fetlock & vetiver? Please.) Fennel-whiskey infused garlic-yogurt crusted octopus? It’s Me, Margaret branded artisanal tampons? Kill me now. And the intentionally scratchy Joni Mitchell and Melanie records? And, everyone bespectacled in thick, oversized armadillo-shelled Warby Parkers, their veneered super grins masquerading their mockery and bad-othering including their own friends!
Is there a way to live without irony, she wondered?
I’ll always love you Brooklyn, but my time is up.
Introducing I’m Done. The Pants.
With the spirit of fuck it woven into every fiber of these slouchy, effortless, non-ironic pants, you are free to dropout. These pants whisper, “You might think life is meaningful, but actually it is squalid and pointless and if you want proof, I’m it.
100% cotton
Size whatever
Marlene Deitrich style pants can be found on Etsy, but how about these: Marlene Dietrich Earrings
