Dressed for success. Or alternately, fuck pants. 

Since I bitched so much about fashion yesterday, allow me to extol its virtues today. 

So far today I’ve been complimented twice on my outfit. It’s a really simple stretchy cotton sundress, and the fabric is darted in a way that accentuates my best bits. I wore it because it’s Monday and fuck Monday and it’s 100-and-ball-sweat degrees with 600% humidity, and I need to wear as little clothing as possible. It looks lovely, but it’s just so simple to throw on and there’s no matching and no pants and no buttons or zippers, and it feels like I’m wearing a men’s t-shirt. 

Being a woman RULES. OK, yes, I’ll have epic Chub Rub on the insides of my thighs from now until October, but eh. I’m at work wearing what amounts to a very fancy pillowcase, so I’ll deal. 

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