I have the obligation to lighten the mood here… And I really couldn’t find a better way than to state one little reason I’m leaving this town.
*Note: Let me just say that this reason will make you think I’m a shallow bitch or a girl with awesome taste and style (whatever, both of them would be right).
People here don’t know a thing about fashion. At all. In fact, local model agencies seem to mock us each time they hire a new model: “Here: she’s thin, weirdly looking and she’s willing to pay for her own photoshoots… Yes, she’s 5’2; as if you actually knew models are supposed to be tall”.
Do I know where I’m going with all of this? No... I just like ranting for the sake of it (better than sex, people say… virgins, probably). Let’s keep going, ok?
This is the definition of fashion in my hometown:
Yes. They were just standing there.
If you want to read the other side of the story, you can find it on my BFF’s fashion blog. I know most of my readers are guys, (which just makes me wonder, again, why girls don’t like me) but maybe one of you is secretly interested in fashion. She was nice about it, which surprised me; I was, indeed, the one who took those embarrassing photos, but that was only because she was too busy laughing.
She’s right, though. I should be kind to this shitty place. You know, Mexico’s Next Top Model is from here (yeah, I’m not even going to hide the fact that I watched every single episode… Twice.)
It’s ok if you like her. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed myself.