So the other day at the mall, I saw this girl who was wearing Jimmy Choo's.
That was random.
Okay, let’s restart this article.
Hello, everyone. I wanna write about teenage problems. No, not suicide, rape, drugs, alcohol; nothing.
It's about clothes.
And yes, believe me or not, it's a major problem. Amongst girls, atleast. The judgement and the whole "that's so ratchet" business.
Yeah, so the girl who was wearing those stilettoes is with her friends (who actually look quite similar to her, I'm not even kidding) and she is obviously satisfied with the way she looks. So she looks across the escalator and sees me.
Now, this is the cherry on the top of an ice cream cake.
Yeah, an ice cream cake is better than a normal cake, you know better than that.
So, just for your entertainment, I'm going to tell you what I was wearing. I was wearing an old black Coldplay t-shirt and Levis and some Converse.
Now, she has this sling bag, y'know, making her this fancy model, and this "cute" little floral printed summer dress which probably costs around a thousand bucks.
Also, here's the fun part: she had about 2 gallons of make-up on that tiny little face.
Coming back to me, I swear I looked like a drug addict because I had literally just gotten up and decided to go to the mall.
No, I don't care about how I look. Just read, will you?
Yeah so she turns to her friends, and thinking that I'm probably not even paying attention, she makes some "look at her eww" eye gesture but guess what, baby, I SAW THAT!
So her friends look at me all at once. I mean, honestly, girl, c'mon, you think I'm not gonna notice when you're looking at me like I'm a humongous statue being taken to a museum?
Now here's where I'm gonna give you free knowledge. Yeah, mostly, against your will.
See, girlies, if you're one to wear clothes like that monster, go ahead. I promise I won't rip your head open. But, don't judge. There are girls who like to dress comfortably and that's their choice. Please explain what you're gonna obtain from bringing someone down like that. Just because you can't bend down to pick something up, doesn't mean that you're cooler than me.
Have you even heard of Coldplay?
Wearing short dresses doesn't make you a diva, girl!
And here's what you've been waiting for. The ultimate cliché.
"It doesn't matter what clothes you wear, it doesn’t matter if you've got five gallons of make-up on your face (that's right, it's five now), it doesn't matter if you're wearing jeans and a lame, old t-shirt, it really doesn't matter, baby. Because what really matters, is what's inside."
Woooaaahhhh, there! I said it! That's true wisdom.
Well, to get back to the story, she expected me to, you know, kinda look down because she was so perfect, and to feel sorry about my whole existence because I was wearing jeans and I didn't have a pretty, fake face.
But. Dum dumdum.
I showed her the finger.
Yeahhhhh, that's what I did. I completely agree that it wasn't the most civil thing to do. It wasn't very classy.
But honestly, I think it was.
Because sometimes, as they say, laato ke bhoot, baato se nahi maante, even if the laat is a single finger.
Ciao folks. Happy reading.
-Written by an overconfident Homo sapien; follow me on Twitter @justhowifeel_97, and read my blog.
That was random.
Okay, let’s restart this article.
Hello, everyone. I wanna write about teenage problems. No, not suicide, rape, drugs, alcohol; nothing.
It's about clothes.
And yes, believe me or not, it's a major problem. Amongst girls, atleast. The judgement and the whole "that's so ratchet" business.
Yeah, so the girl who was wearing those stilettoes is with her friends (who actually look quite similar to her, I'm not even kidding) and she is obviously satisfied with the way she looks. So she looks across the escalator and sees me.
Now, this is the cherry on the top of an ice cream cake.
Yeah, an ice cream cake is better than a normal cake, you know better than that.
So, just for your entertainment, I'm going to tell you what I was wearing. I was wearing an old black Coldplay t-shirt and Levis and some Converse.
Now, she has this sling bag, y'know, making her this fancy model, and this "cute" little floral printed summer dress which probably costs around a thousand bucks.
Also, here's the fun part: she had about 2 gallons of make-up on that tiny little face.
Coming back to me, I swear I looked like a drug addict because I had literally just gotten up and decided to go to the mall.
No, I don't care about how I look. Just read, will you?
Yeah so she turns to her friends, and thinking that I'm probably not even paying attention, she makes some "look at her eww" eye gesture but guess what, baby, I SAW THAT!
So her friends look at me all at once. I mean, honestly, girl, c'mon, you think I'm not gonna notice when you're looking at me like I'm a humongous statue being taken to a museum?
Now here's where I'm gonna give you free knowledge. Yeah, mostly, against your will.
See, girlies, if you're one to wear clothes like that monster, go ahead. I promise I won't rip your head open. But, don't judge. There are girls who like to dress comfortably and that's their choice. Please explain what you're gonna obtain from bringing someone down like that. Just because you can't bend down to pick something up, doesn't mean that you're cooler than me.
Have you even heard of Coldplay?
Wearing short dresses doesn't make you a diva, girl!
And here's what you've been waiting for. The ultimate cliché.
"It doesn't matter what clothes you wear, it doesn’t matter if you've got five gallons of make-up on your face (that's right, it's five now), it doesn't matter if you're wearing jeans and a lame, old t-shirt, it really doesn't matter, baby. Because what really matters, is what's inside."
Woooaaahhhh, there! I said it! That's true wisdom.
Well, to get back to the story, she expected me to, you know, kinda look down because she was so perfect, and to feel sorry about my whole existence because I was wearing jeans and I didn't have a pretty, fake face.
But. Dum dumdum.
I showed her the finger.
Yeahhhhh, that's what I did. I completely agree that it wasn't the most civil thing to do. It wasn't very classy.
But honestly, I think it was.
Because sometimes, as they say, laato ke bhoot, baato se nahi maante, even if the laat is a single finger.
Ciao folks. Happy reading.
-Written by an overconfident Homo sapien; follow me on Twitter @justhowifeel_97, and read my blog.