Well, I’ve never been so insulted in my life. How dare they.
I refuse to accept fashion advice from a goddamn fortune cookie. They know absolutely nothing about taste; they’re barely edible. And, besides, what’s wrong with stripes and plaids? I like stripes and plaids. They make a bold, distinctive statement about me to the world.
They say I’m an original. They say I’m avant garde. They say I need to go shopping for some new clothes. I know it, I do. But I’m cheap and lazy and don’t know where to start. The Gap? Farm and Fleet? Victoria’s Secret? There are just too many choices.
So until I can pull myself together and buy some decent clothing I’ll stay in the house. Albert Einstein might’ve gotten away with wild and exotic combinations — jeez, look at his hair — but I’m drawing stares. And sharp insults from carry out joints.
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