height

I'm mostly making good on my promise. Mostly.

The third year will be the charm(s), the boots, the skirt, the shirt; anything but the mundane. "At last," some of my friends will say, one in particular.

I'm not the dressing-up type. Or maybe I'm the perfect dressing-up type. It depends on how you look at it. For the flamboyant, the outgoing, dressing-up is a simple matter of tossing together bits and pieces and letting your personality do the rest.

For the quieter, the process is more arduous. The question is not only "Can I fit into this?" it is "Can I pull this off without horrible embarrassment?" (Or, as I rather caustically like to point out, "The only good part about being the fat chick is that you can look in the mirror and never have to ask, 'Does my ass look fat in this?' because you already know the answer.)