The above is a comment my lovely roommate and I received at the Feast tonight. In defense of the speaker, we were both wearing corsets and may have been holding hands.
My corset is reddish purple taffeta. Strictly speaking, it's not a corset at all. It's the top of a prom dress that I wore my sophomore year. Which means it is also spangled with rhinestones. Most importantly, since my boobs didn't finish coming in till freshman year of college, it no longer strictly fits. I mean, it fits my torso and the bottom half of my chest. Feeling a little more modest than usual, tonight, I tied a scarf around to cover the top half of my breasts that splurged happily out the side and top.
I don't really like the feast. It's only a matter of time (about 15 minutes) until I want to start pushing people and shouting MOVE. I have very little patience for crowds. Less patience for crowds of stupid/drunk/high school-aged people.
1 comment:
While I would not have said it out loud, I have to be honest and admit that I would have judged you and your friend mightily for wearing corset tops outside a goth club. The fact that yours was appraently not even a real corset and too small would have only heightened my enjoyment of the situation. I also once laughed at a midget who fell in a puddle, so I'm not attempting to appear like a good person here.
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