Statesman > XL Blogs > Archives > 2005 > June > 15 > Entry
The camisole crisis
Back from vacation, I’m trying to get caught up on everything, and by “everything” I mean “reading magazines.”
Last night, I found a sentence in Lucky that is the zenith of Lucky-ness. It may be my favorite sentence ever.
It is:
Who isn’t at a turning point with her lace cami?
Who indeed.
I am. Your mom is. Hilary Duff. Hillary Clinton. Jennifer and Angelina. All of us. Lucky has been brave enough to expose the pain that dared not speak its name.
We wanted to tell you, but we didn’t know how. You don’t understand the pain of it, all the restless nights wondering “What am I going to do with my lace camis?”
So if we’ve been distant, if we’ve been irritable, if we, say, have run off and claimed to be kidnapped when we really just didn’t want to get married, that’s why. It’s not you. It’s our lace camis.
Hold us.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Sarah Lindner
Comments
By Lisa
June 16, 2005 08:50 AM | Link to this
I don't understand this at all. What are you talking about?