Saturday, August 2, 2014
we can never be together
I can't believe it was only yesterday. You're not the sort of dress I'm usually attracted to but I knew from the first moment there was something special between us. I'm not even sure if you're a nightgown or an actual dress, but let's not confuse emotions with labels. I grabbed you immediately and took you to a private space where we could get to know each other better. You slipped on so easily and made me feel carefree and adventurous and cool. Your pseudo-hippie imitation-Morocco vibe contrasted so weirdly with my platinum hair and red lipstick it was like we completed each other. My heart started palpitating; my excitement mounted. But then I noticed that itch. Why were you so rough with me? And for that matter, why did you feel so... icky? I was compelled to check your label, where I saw that while your soul is made of linen and gauzy cotton, they got it wrong in the factory and made you of 100% polyester. They destroyed your essence. I'm sorry, but it was a deal breaker for me. I put you back on the rack and cried a little tear for what could have been. I'm sure someone less sensitive will pick you up and you will have a fin time with her. I wish you the best.
Ps - tell your makers at Oysho that they royally screwed this one, and that the next time they come up with a design that screams 100% cotton at them, they should probably just make it from 100% cotton.