FFS Fashion, don’t make me freeze my tits off too.

Fashion, my old friend, you and I need to have a serious chat.

I love and respect your gleeful disregard for all that is practical and tasteful, aware that you squealed with abandon when H&M released those ludicrous collaborations with Alexander Wang and Kenzo. I forgive so much of this and more (see: Vetements), for they nary bothered normal simpletons like me, who merely require a nice, warm and squishy jumper to wear with my favourite shiny strides of a chilly day.

But I must stage an intervention, drawing the line here and now: kindly desist from cutting random fucking holes in everything.

I don’t want a ‘cold shoulder jumper’. It’s a jumper – I don’t want it to give me cold ANYTHING. It defeats the purpose of its existence to leave me chilly in any way. It’s like putting a fucking electric blanket on a sun lounger.

Equally, leave the knees of jeans alone. It’s WINTER. Blue knees peeping through a pair of denims is wholly inappropriate and cannot and should not be compensated by simply sticking ones chilly stiltons into a pair of sweaty Uggs. Urgh.

I want holes in my clothes for access purposes only. No cut-outs, no ‘peeping’ anything and NO BASTARD COLD SHOULDERS.

I am fearful of a Mean Girls-esque future where you start cutting tit holes. And then, Fashion my dear friend, you are on a downward trajectory towards Crocs, from which there is no return.

Let’s pack it in now and say no more of it. It’s for your own good.

Love you,

Marie xxx15220257_10157798632855503_8957932093507217059_n

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