Sindh Club Winter Ball, bitches. Its happening this weekend and Sam and I have been invited, courtesy Aamir, good friend and bitching companion. You rock, baby!
Now, here's the issue. I have never ever bought a damn gown/cocktail dress/frilly crap because:
1. I look like shit in frilly crap. A lady boy from Thailand would look better than me.
2. Hubs aint the ball type. The fact that he wants to go to this Ball makes me think he has been kidnapped and the Sam currently with me is his evil but socially active clone.
3. I am a lazy ass twit whose idea of dressing up means changing out of my Hubs' t shirt and putting on a loose, comfy faded shirt of my own.
Luckily, cousin-in-law and an irritatingly lovely, adorable and totally cool woman, M., has bailed me out of my quagmire, and has graciously loaned various sexy, slutty clothes for yours truly to prance around in. You go, girl!
Yeah, so this was a totally shallow post based around my wardrobe (or lack thereof). so what?
Later.
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