YOU BE YOU
How to Be Hugh Hefner
One woman’s meat dress is another woman’s prom dress
I own an orange tutu, sequins joggers, and embroidered boots, but there’s nothing in my closet that screams, “Now there’s something that would make me look normal at church.”
I have a friend who owns all the food groups of a normal wardrobe — Several styles of black dress pants, hundreds of varieties of necklaces and earrings, high heels, low heels, medium heels, flats, black boots, brown boots, stockings of all shades and colors and textures, a female fedora, blazers from all eras, wrap-around dresses, floor-length, cocktail, boob hugging, hip-hugging, strapless, cross back.
She’s a grownup with grownup clothes. If she didn’t have 40 pounds of hair, she could get ready in three minutes. Don’t get me started on her makeup and hair accessories. It makes me feel like I live in a storm drain.
Whenever I have to go out into a civilized event like a holiday party or a funeral, I panic. I open my closet and my sequins pants blink back at me. I have at least 10 beautiful robes. I’m not talking about terry cloth bathrobes. I’m talking…
