Now, before
anyone says anything, please remember she is in Park City and yes, it is very
cold. So there you go. I really do love that scarf, and she’s still as
beautiful as I remember her from years ago. But the floppy hat. It is
not your friend. It is no one’s friend. It is your mortal enemy. It lies in wait, in your
closet, where you put it when you drunk-bought it a fair five years ago,
thinking it was “hahaha sorta cute.” It lurks in that closet, on the shelf, plotting against you. Waiting for the day when you finally crack and decide that it might look cool with this one dress you just got. And then…all hell breaks loose.
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