My lip gloss is cool.

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One for the road.

It's Sunday. You probably haven't taken a shower and it's around 12:30. You woke up about an hour ago with a dull headache from beer and shrimp with the girls and you want to put a modicum of effort into the rest of your day. Something has to give. You can't spend the rest of the day in your house wearing a man's baseball tee from the Gap and yoga pants. Maybe you don't feel like wearing pants but something about your bare ass clad only in I-need-to-do-laundry underwear with Snoopy surfing on your crotch makes you feel uncomfortable. Trashy, even. You are desperate for an in-between, something that replicates the sheer joy of being pantsless and unfettered yet offers the protection provided by something, anything, covering your ass and your ladyflower. This is where these come in.



Fuck. YES. Cut-offs. So stupendously trashy yet the perfect thing to remedy the situation you've found yourself in. Put these fuckers on and you are ready to face the world, even if the only world you'll be facing is yuppies and their kids in Baby Bjorns looking embarassed for you as you nip over to the corner store to buy Kettle Chips and some strawberry lemonade.

It's like being naked outside but better.

You are my sunshine.

Summer is fucking awesome for so many reasons. If you live on the right coast, summer means sundresses, iced coffee, getting off work early on Fridays, the beach, clambakes, road trips, sunglasses, amazing summer jams like "Umbrella", dance parties, barbecues, potlucks and the like. How great are all of those things? Totally amazing. Wondrous.

Summer also means being gloriously TAN. Tanning is one of those things that is so bad for you but the end result is sooooo good, like eating cupcakes for dinner standing over the sink wearing no pants because your roommate isn't home and you're too lazy to cook. There is a fine line between between trash and class here and this debate is one that could rage endlessly for centuries.

There's a limit to what looks good.





If you're a skinny thing with too much eyeliner and an affinity for un-ironic neon and platform sandals then you reserve every right to be the color of a leather handbag. This is your milieu. Embrace it. Own it. The trashiness inherent in this kind of tan is such that it surpasses trash and comes right back to being acceptable. To be blissfully unaware is a trait that few possess so wear it proudly.



Just don't let this shit happen. This is what those girls grow up to be.