I’m sensing a real lack of confidence, Pumpkins. In our leaders. In ourselves. Even in our shape wear. I lost a violent skirmish with a “belly buster” when it snapped my kidneys into next week. I’m done with steel belted elastic. If my loins are to be girded, I’ll do it the old fashioned way, thank you very much.
Speaking of which, I’m not particularly stirred about our country’s limp election. Shouldn’t someone tell those guys that nobody likes them? Honestly. The ding dongs are going to run around the country so that we can decide which one we dislike the least. How inspiring.
The point is, dear dahrlings, we must rely on ourselves. With gusto. Relish in your own fabulosity, because along with our youth and our beauty, it’s all we’ve got! A bright and ballsy little retailer told me the other day “What I love about retail is that there’s no competition. The sky’s the limit!” And he was sober. Now that’s confidence!
