Flashback to the time I sobbed for a whole afternoon because my mum made me wear this horrible red velvet dress to Westfield in Sydney (circa 1998). She said If I wore it all day I could buy light khaki cargo pants. I can’t figure out two things a) If she was indeed blackmailing me, b) Why I was buying light khaki cargo pants.
From that day on I chose my own outfits in fear I would spend 345 years battling Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Conservative estimate.
I know mum would approve of this twosie by Three Of Something. On ya Meg.