Khloé thought it would be a good idea to spend Sunday afternoon eating gelato and walking around Wicker Park. Ordinarily, I’d love nothing more than an easy afternoon of window-shopping and fancypants ice cream, but it was 101 degrees outside.
I went anyway, not only because I needed the exercise, but also because I felt the call to evaluate my neighborhood’s offerings. This call led me to several shops, from Una Mae’s Freak Boutique (nothing special in the way of clothing, though I did like their assortment of vintage handbags) to fem. (ooh, hammered brass disc earrings!).
In between the bags and the earrings, I picked up this cute-ass tank at American Apparel. Frankly, I was surprised the top would fit, even an XL, but I was pleasantly surprised to discover that not only did it fit, but it even looked nice. What gives? Is the universe finally throwing me a fashion bone? A subtle signal for me to keep exercising and stop eating so much rice? I’d gladly give up white rice if it would mean more cute cleavage-friendly tops for moi.