We've been together for a long time now. I keep trying to break up with you, but here we are, still suffering together. You're loud, unflattering, you make me uncomfortable, but when I try to leave you in a bag at the Goodwill, somehow you escape at the last moment. We both know this isn't working, why must we suffer in this ill-fitting, dysfunctional relationship where we just hate ourselves after each date? We only see each other once, perhaps twice a year-why must we put ourselves through this? I know you'd be happy with a much older woman, and I've been eyeing a psychedelic maxi at the thrift store.
Fine. I'm willing to give you one last chance, but I think we both know this is going to end in a bin bag at the Goodwill.
Polyester crepe dress-Can't remember, old
Vintage ostrich skin handbag-Goodwill
Vintage milk glass clip earrings-Hand-Me-Ups
Hair bow-made by my mother-80's
Lippy-Wine with Everything (Revlon)
Like the song says, "Breaking up is hard to do."
I really think it is the sleeves.