That was in 2020 B.C (before corona.) Now, I’m not even meeting my delivery guy in person, let alone a suitor. But, somehow, I can’t shake my aesthetic association with romance and fashion, even as dates shrink to a screen. So on Friday nights, I set up a video call and prop my laptop up on a crooked pile of coffee table books. Then, I comb through my closet, seeking sartorial solace while my television blares and sirens wail in the Westlife 22nd anniversary 1998-2020 thank you for the memories signature shirt so you should to go to store and get this background. For a few seconds, I’ll forget my reality. I’m just a girl, who likes a guy, and has the perfect top to show it.
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