Confessions: Dirty Laundry Secrets.

“Are you almost ready?!
I rummaged through my clothes as I gripped onto my cell phone, “Uhhh,” ew that’s ugly, why do I still own that? It’s too cold for that “Y-Yeah!” I fibbed as the hangers scraped against the metal pole.

I have no idea what to wear and I’m running 10 minutes late. My room is a mess. The carpeted floor is covered with (really) ugly Christmas sweaters, way-too-fancy silk dresses and not-fancy-enough corduroy pants. About three rows of hung-up clothes took up one whole wall of my room — and I still couldn’t find an outfit that I was feeling. 

“You haven’t even found an outfit yet, have you?” 

“Guilty…,” I put my cell phone back in front of my face, and hung my head in shame. It was my best friend, but she’s better known as the girl who has outfits for everything versus me, the girl who never has outfits for anything. 

I threw myself onto the pile of clothes as snowfall lingered outside my window. 

Today is the most important time of the year: Drunken Elf. And I had nothing to wear.

“Girl, I have nothing to wear!!”

“That’s not true!” 

“B-tch, all my outfits so far look like grandma clothes.”

“Hey, then you gotta be a sexy grandma.”

I laughed, “The way my closet’s looking, I don’t think that’ll happen. Besides… look at you!” I pointed at my phone screen. “You got that fitted green satin dress (black turtleneck underneath) black tights and platform heeled boots?!” her camera shook after hitting a pothole — she was in an Uber on the way to me — “If you looking like that, I gotta look pretty damn good too.”

“Puh-leaseeee,” she prolonged the “E.” This time her Elf ear headband accidentally hit the camera. New York really needs to do something about that. “What about that red sequin velvet dress?”

I immediately shot up, “Oh shit!” I rushed to my open closet. “I forgot about that.”

“See, what would you do without me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I jokingly rolled my eyes. 

I shuffled through the hangers quickly. First row: nothing. Second row: nothing. Third row—

“A ha!” I shouted, yanking the dress free. “Oh hell yeah, I’ll definitely be a drunken elf in this.” 

The sequins were still attached. It shimmered in different angles under my red and green Christmas lights that wrapped around my room. Still, something about it was off; it was slightly stretched out, and there was a weird stain towards the bottom of the dress.

When the hell did I last wear this?

“O-M-G!” my friend shouted, Oh, sorry, not you (she said to her Uber driver) “And whyyyy haven’t you worn this?!”

I held it up with my left hand as I kept my phone in my right, “I definitely wore this at least once…,” I spun it around. “Is this even clean?”

Suddenly… it hit me.

You know those dates where you know it’s not going to go anywhere with that person, but you still want to have a good time? 

Yeah, it was one of those.

Do you also know one of those hookups where you never want anyone to ever find out you hooked up with that person?

Yeah, it was also one of those.
“This is DEFINITELY not clean.”

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The Comeback Is Greater Than The Setback.

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The Little Lace Thong.