“We were together. I forget the rest.”
You know how I feel about you. I’ve been head over heels every since I got my 13 year-old hands on one of your glorious, WASP fantasagorium catalogs. I worked for you! (twice!). I’ve given you gobs of my hard earned money. I, like pretty much everyone, worship at the Jenna Lyons style altar. But lately, I’ve been a little disappointed in you. The prices, J. The prices. And sometimes you layer on just one too many necklaces. But mostly… the prices. However, I’ve looked the other way, because damn it, I still want everything in that catalog. But now, I draw the line…
$85 pajamas? That, I can handle. (Fine. I want a pair. With a monogram.) But when you start selling $78 toy limos for the spawn of the 1%…no, friends. NO.
So I’ll make you a deal. You pull yourself together and I’ll pretend this never happened.
And if you want to throw in this wildly overpriced parka to smooth things over? I can be bought.