Aimee
After the third time I was asked if my regular outfit was my costume for the play, I figured my sense of style was lost on my peers.
After the third time I was asked if my regular outfit was my costume for the play, I figured my sense of style was lost on my peers.
Never could I have conceived that my own father would laugh at my kilt.
Is it weird that I say a truly genuine, pleading prayer everytime I get into a dressing room with an item of clothing, that God lets it not only fit, but look okay, too?
The first man to ever lend me clothing was outrageously gay, and he only gave me the socks so I wouldn't drag my wet ones on the floors.