Sometimes I just ignore anon hate because theres a proverb I learnt in a Nigerian movie that said.
‘You cannot run naked after a mad man in the street after he has taken your clothes away from you because the public will not know who is the mad person between the two of you’
I feel like this proverb was based on firsthand experience.
Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
damn when am i gonna break free of society’s shackles and become an 18th century lady pirate captain who eventually gets caught by the navy in a caribbean port because i stopped to bed the neglected governor’s daughter who is soon to be married to a prestigious naval officer for whom she has no feelings meanwhile she is immediately drawn to me when we meet in the market so i woo her and she happily comes, so to speak, but the governor and naval officer find us because i let down my guard for once because She Does Unexpected Things To My Heart and they throw me in prison and sentence me to death for piracy but that same night ANOTHER band of pirates kidnap the governor’s daughter and hold her for ransom and do so Very Threateningly and the navy can’t catch this dastardly brute so i’m released on the grounds i rescue the woman and bring her back unharmed and i’m like uh huh sure and when i get free i debate just leaving for the first pirate port but i can’t shake the image of the woman from my mind so i convince the crew to chase down this other pirate and they’re wary but also eager for a fight so we go and rescue her before any harm befalls her and after cutting down the brutish rival pirate captain i stand there with my sword drawn looking sweaty and butchy and bloody but with concern in my eyes for her well-being then she throws her arms around me and i take her back to my cabin and she cleans my wounds and we make sweet passionate love in the candlelight and she tells me she always knew i would come for her, again so to speak, and we decide we can never be parted again so i give my ship to a spunky up-and-coming heroic sidekick lad who proved his mettle in our recent battle and meanwhile me and my love run off and shack up on a small island with the money i put away that i stole from the british and we live to be old and happy the end
I like this story. I want five books and a movie pls.
Given that floral sundresses with spaghetti straps are everywhere this summer and so many outlets are suggesting they be worn over baby tees, I propose that we collectively take it one step further back into the late nineties and start wearing them with black chokers and combat boots again. That was a good look. We should not, as a society, have let it slip through our fingers like we did.
This is the only 90s style I will get behind. This and overalls but that’s it. It was bad enough the first time.
if it happened at all, it happened like that 
