*cough* Hi y’all *cough, splutter* I’m back! [redacted scene of unimaginable graphic lung-horking] How’s every little thing? Me? I’m dying. Okay, so technically I just have a really bad cold –or, in current Plum-speak– “a riddy bad code” and the only thing keeping me from Ending It All and chopping off my own pretty haid is that I just bought a fantastic camel hair beret and I look so adorable in it that it would be a shame to decapitate myself and deprive the world of all my appropriated-Gallic gorgeousness.
Which brings me to the subject of Monica Lewinsky.
Monica Lewinsky has caused me no shortage of heartache. I was a freshman in college outside Washington, D.C., when the scandal broke and being possessed of similar coloring and body shape as Miss Lewinsky, I was often either compared to or actually mistaken for the world’s most famous fellatilist, and quite frankly, it got old quick.
The worst part wasn’t the blue dress jokes or the inappropriate comments on the Metro, I could deal with all that. No, the WORST part was that she ruined the beret for the better part of a decade.
Last month there was an article in British Vogue (I think) about the return of the beret and that’s when it got into my pointy little head.
Maybe I COULD wear a beret again.
After all, it’s been nearly ten years AND now that I’m French by Injection mayhaps I could retry the forbidden topper.
(Aside: Dear family, bet you regret e-stalking me NOW don’t you? Well that’s what you get, and you’re lucky that I’m not going into detail because I could and then you’d have to poke your eyes out and THEN who’d be sorry? Not the girl banging the Hot French Chef with the place in the South of France, that’s for sure –ed.)
I found this brilliant camel hair beret from Lord and Taylor at a church resale shop (for a dollar, SCORE) and guess what? It LOOKS FABULOUS and NO ONE has asked me for Inappropriate Services ALL DAY.
Therefore, I declare that the Big Girl Beret Moratorium is OVER. Go git you some!
Just remember, wear your hat low over the eyebrow and pull it like a pumpkin, not a pancake. Trop chic and trop cheap, non?