love is war.

Last night I tried on dresses at Macy's. I guess I missed Karen. I also sort of convinced myself that I need a dress, that I can't repeat dresses at all of these upcoming weddings. So, apparently, the popular thing these days is a hem that looks like you sewed it yourself. I am six feet tall. Clothes are generally too short anyway, and so what should be an ankle hem is usually somewhere mid-shin for me, knee-length becomes racy, and miniskirts are just absurd. And the last thing I need is to call more attention to an already misplaced hemline.

But fashion victim that I am, I decided if it works on millions of preteens it might work on me, and so I grabbed a dark blue sparkly dress with a hem that was longer on the right than the left, sort of cascading down all mermaid-like. I also tried on a black dress with a feather neckline (Karen, that was just for you, and I swear, it looked pretty good), a gold dress with little glass beads scattered all over the place, a black skirt with a beaded hem, and a t-shirt that read "Love is War." I know, I know.

Naturally each item was a mistake of varying intensity. Except the skirt, which I bought. But the mermaid dress, that was the worst. Women of America, what kind of crack are we smoking??? I do not exaggerate when I say that I looked like a drag queen as Carmen Miranda. And since it's probably not in my best interest to command more attention than the brides at these weddings, I quietly put it back on the rack. But by then, I was covered in light blue glitter. Annisia would call that retribution for every Christmas and birthday card I've ever given her, but me? I just call it reason to buy N*Sync's new album today.

Which I did at lunchtime today. Makes me feel dirty, I have to say. Dirty Pop!