I was pretend online shopping while my mother was reading next to me. I was yammering on about how I never had anything to wear. I tend to "yammer" about things I feel this wicked world is viciously keeping away from me! Like more clothes! The clothes I need to have and belong to me. She read me this excerpt... I think she was trying to tell me something. I am going to ignore it for as long as possible.

"Clothing was magic. Casey believed this. She would never admit this to her classmates in any of her women's studies courses, but she felt that an article of clothing could change a person, literally cast a spell. Each skirt, blouse, necklace, or humble shoe said something -certain pieces screamed, and others whispered seductively, but no matter, she experienced each item's expression keenly, and she loved this world. Every article suggested an image, a life, a kind of woman, and Casey felt drawn by them. When things were difficult -and they couldn't get much worse- Casey went to buy something to wear. When she had very little cash, purchasing a pair of black tights or a tube of lipstick from the drugstore could help her get through a slump. Casey and her college friends were ashamed of shopping. Smart girls who read books weren't supposed to be materialistic (her fellow economics majors pegged consumers as mollified idiots, and as for religion, they invoked Marx's phrase the opiate of the masses), and although female intellects cleverly discussed sensuality and tactility in art, smart women were not supposed to like culling or gathering more dresses. But Casey knew well from having been on both sides of the counter that even bookish girls liked to go to shops and be thrilled by a red tweed skirt or a black cloche. And equally true was that smart firls wanted to be beautiful in the way beautiful girls wanted to be smart. Size fourteen bibliophiles could love clothes as much as size two heiresses who shopped to fill their time. Everyone scrounged for an identity defined by objects." (free food for millionaires)

Yeah, whatever MOM. I am SICK AND TIRED of you waxing on about how you wish the KELLY you got for christmas was actually a BIRKIN! Your closet is literally bursting with lanvin, the hinges are shaky! everyone look at this pretty picture and immediate forget the excerpt above!

(oooh "bursting with lanvin" sounds so poetic don't you think?)