Marrying George Clooney

okay, full disclosure, my breasts are not perky.
okay, enough about that.

i am sitting here with the new victoria’s secret catalogue, which god only knows why the fuck i get it. and maybe it’s me, maybe i’m just having one of those “bad hair didn’t shave my legs” days when i can see every single wrinkle, every tiny line, every short grey hair, every inch of cellulite. maybe it’s just when i turn to page 55 and there – right there on the page – is a young leggy blonde kneeling (which in and of itself would be nothing short of a miracle) – wearing black suede over-the-knee boots with seven inch heels and a teeny black leather jacket over a skin-tight itsy bitsy grey tee shirt and hot pants and i think: hmmm, why am i getting this catalogue?

then i turn to page 47 in hopes of finding an answer, and there on the page are shoes. ten pair, and every single pair, honest, has a five to seven inch heel. i would get a nose bleed if i wore those shoes. i would. i used to wear heels. i did. i wore heels & skirts and knew how to run for a cab wearing high heels. now i make the cab come to me. and there on the opposite page is a young gorgeous woman wearing a skirt that could also be mistaken for a belt, and the only thing stopping her legs is the floor. and i think, hmmm, why am i getting this catalogue?

and then there’s the victoria secret perfume, these are the scents: tease, desire, heavenly, divine and wish. those are the scents slash names.
my perfume is called maybe

but my very favorite page, my all time favorite – the one that made me go ‘aha’ i get why i’m getting this catalogue. page 60, where the copy reads:

THE GOOD GIRL GONE BAD LOOK.

and by god i can so relate to that.