argyle sock envy
It’s three in the morning again, and I’ve been visiting random other blogs, to scope out the competition and try to snag potential link-swappage. I really should add a blot for links somewhere, maybe a cutesy page of 88×31 promo buttons, static. I always like those, it’s the same feeling I get looking at a crazy quilt of squares. Comfortable.
Anyway, I’ve come down with an episode of argyle-sock-style-envy. I wish I wore thick-rimmed glasses, argyle socks, and a skirt, instead of ancient patched jeans and a t-shirt with the high voltage warning sign airbrushed on. I wish my hair were short and dyed mulberry, instead of
natural brown because I’m too vain to let a drop of bleach anywhere near my long, silky hair which I keep pent up most of the time because it gets in the way. I wish I had the flair it takes to put this page on a bright yellow background. I don’t, really, wish for any of this, it’s not at all who I am or even who I want to be. But damn, it sure looks good, and it might be easier than developing my own sense of style, since I don’t have much in the way of an artsy-design-chick support structure. So I have a question for any of you girls in thick rimmed glasses (you might know who you are): do you consciously think about the image you project to the world? or does it just happen?