Polyester is a gambling man’s fabric and I bet the house at Mars Thrift. I’ve stopped blaming myself, trying to hide my shame and started indulging the guilty pleasure.
I cannot say no to gold, cheetah print, or to harem pants as of late. How you feel after that statement is probably greatly due to the fact that Metallics have been marketed to the gills in every silhouette around, in most cases in questionable fabric qualities.
I am so sorry, I am not sorry for living for gold lamé; especially if it faintly resembles lamé that could have been shimmying around the days before Studio 54 closed its doors, it’s mine. Bonus points for Studio 54 opulence.
As for any affinity to animal motifs that I developed over the years I blame my mother, as we all do when someone calls us out on their idea of a fashion faux pas. Or most importantly garment decisions they personally would never bare leave the house in. For example, harem pants are barely telling the world you can survive without your couch in sight. But Harem pants explain themselves personally, and if they do not speak to you in a convincing enough manner do yourself a favor save the money for a maxi skirt instead.