After packing at least two balikbayan boxes full of old
clothes and shoes, I realize my closet has gone dismally inadequate. The last dress
shirt I bought was three months ago --- a crisp white dress shirt from *gulps*
Marks & Spencer.
(This is how I normally roll - work to cocktails)
I'm most comfortable in jeans (mostly raw), paired with a
crisp white or pale dress shirt and brogues but I just can’t wear them to all
the occasion I am invited to. My navy and black suits are not bad at all, and
thank god they don’t make me look dumpy, dowdy---wide across the hips and lumpy
in the middle.
A lot of clothes off the rack usually tend to emphasize
everything I hate about my figure – thank god for my trust tailor and friends
who are honest enough to tell you how much that shirt makes you look like Gumby
or that pants make you look as if you have a double mangina (aka. Man vagina).
(If only Sid Mashburn isn't 2,468.9 miles away from my side of the pond, I'd be there in a jiffy)
So, yes, I'm 30 years old, still whine about how my clothes fit and why every centimeter matter.
Should I get myself man spanks to keep my flabs from
completely spilling out, and to keep my mushy abdomen in check? I guess I'll
just reason through the psychological implications of this decision
later.....much later.....
Hold on: Muchas Gracias José Fons
Guardiola por presentarme a Antonio Rodríguez ayer por la noche. This rarely happens but yes, still kinda starstruck - Qué
vergüenza!
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