In honor of Mardi Gras, I am sharing this outrageously tacky picture of me in New Orleans, circa 1998. When I found this I wept for my past fashion crimes. I know now what I should have given up for Lent that year, despite being a Lutheran.
Let's just analyze the many degrees of awful featured in this photo:
1. Tight, stone washed jeans; tapered, hitting at the ultra flattering "above the ankle" length.
2. Rayon half shirt.
3. The Donger Belt. (Definition: Seen around style-deprived waists from about 1988-1999, this atrocity hung low sweet chariot, with a silver tip to give it weight. Some had Native American designs/tuquoise for an even saucier touch.) I know you can't see the belt, hidden under that manilla envelope, but trust me...it's lurking under there.
4. Trollish half boots.
5. The long-strapped mini-purse that would draw attention to my fat thighs by jauntily bouncing against them as I strutted down the streets.
I honestly cannot believe I ever thought this ensemble was acceptable. In fact, not only did I think it was acceptable, but I must have thought I looked damn good. After all, I allowed a photographer to preserve this sartorial wet fart. I sincerely hope I was just drunk the entire time I was in New Orleans and couldn't tell the difference. Forgive me Stacy London, for I have sinned.
Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez!
3 comments:
The best part about the 90's half-shirt is that it went with the 90's high-waist jeans.
It's the rock, paper, scissors of fashion. Vagina jeans covers half-shirt.
I rocked The Donger with a pair of knee-length, rolled up khaki shorts from The Limited. I was crazy hot.
I believe that I once saw Roz sporting the same ensemble.
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