I don't remember how old I was but I was probably around ten when my grandfather gave me my Lakers nightshirt.
I don't remember how he happened to have it but it probably had something to do with the industry he worked in (he was some kind of buying or sales manager in ladies intimates - no joke).
When I was younger, that shirt was ginormous on me. It must have been because when I wear it now, it's still huge on me. Of course, in the over-20 years I've had it, it's surely stretched out.
It's been worn and washed so much, it's basically see-through. It's got a ton of holes in it. It's really just unwearable. But I keep it in my drawer and ocassionally take it out to threaten my mother with it. I will not let her throw it away. I will not take it to her house.
Once or twice in the last couple years, when I have felt most vulnerable, I have taken the shirt out, put it on over whatever I'm wearing, and curled up with my teddy bear in bed.
It takes me right back to feeling ten years old and safe and warm. It somehow still smells... comforting. Can a shirt smell "comforting?" I have no idea. I swear it does.
I think on the shirt's last day of life, when at last it is basically a disintegrated former piece of fabric, I will probably cry and mourn.
It's all the rage, in case you hadn't heard. Over 10 million users in record time. It drives more traffic than Google+, YouTube and LinkedIn combined. There are already books on it, so-called Pinterest "experts," integration strategies, share buttons, parody pinboards (I enjoy fake Mitt Romney)... I love it a lot, personally, and am currently integrating it into every single PR proposal I make these days.
But here's the thing I'm slowly realizing.
There are ten million GENIUS ideas out there and SHIT, there are just NOT enough hours in the day. I want to do SO MANY of these fabulous things and I find, most of the time, when I get downtime, all I can REALLY motivate myself to do is... well, siddown.
So thank you Pinterest. For all of your awesomeness. For being colorful and fun and expansive and addicting. And thank you for reminding me there are never going to be enough hours in the day!
With thanks to my friend Becky, I could not resist posting this...
I learned a new word today, boys and girls. Check it: BADVERTISING. Like it? Me too. Now check out a prime example of it...
A controversial ad for Levi’s “Curve ID” brand of jeans has drawn fire for claiming “hotness comes in all shapes and sizes,” while depicting only one size: Small.
The average American woman is a realistic size 14, but the models in Levi’s’ ad all appear to be in the low single digits. In fact, the only noticeable change from figure to figure is an increasingly protruding backside. (And I had to really look to even notice. I would happily take any of their waistlines over my own, readers.)
A Levi’s spokesperson says the ad is from last year, and is by no means “representative of all women’s body types across the globe.” (Give that guy a raise – he knows his shit, right?)
The Curve ID line claims to offer relief for curvy women who have a hard time finding a pair of jeans to fit their shape. But Levi’s choice of cuts suggests a hint of judgement: There’s “Slight,” “Demi,” “Bold,” and the recently introduced “Supreme.”