It’s that time of year again: the quest for the ultimate summer dress has officially started. As temperatures FINALLY begin to rise, style seekers are gunning for a great gúna (okay, several) to induce some long overdue wardrobe whimsy.
Most folks put foodstuffs and ice-cubes in the freezer, at times a warm bottle of wine when needs must. I, on the other hand, use mine to kill moths – all of the fecking moths.
Fun fact: If you walk the loop from Maryborough Hill via Rochestown Road to Clarke’s Hill and back, you’ll spot a dog in a hedge.
I’m not a quitter. Granted, I am a staunch believer in the art of letting go (hello, decluttering!) but only when something has outlived its sell-by-date. When something is brand spanking new and in need of a good wearing, I take an active interest in fulfulling its manifest destiny.
It’s officially open-toe season and you know what that means, folks: FEAR – abject, unadulterated fear and a side of loathing for good measure.