Well I've done it.

I went and saw the SATC movie alone today at 4:15 clad in really old shorts purchased from a Goodwill so long ago that I can't remember the year. They have an elastic waist. My feet were shod in the Manolos of the Mountain: Tevas. I did however swap the shirt I was wearing out for a fetching Calvin Klein number at the last minute, giving me the fashion equivalent of a mullet: Chic on top and trashy down below.

I was similarly poorly dressed for a Saturday visit to Neiman Marcus with L, whose coworker was DJing there. Though, truth be told, I don't know what the right outfit for Neiman Marcus is. I can tell you what it's not, though: Shorts from Target and a ribbed blue tank top from H&M that you sweated through earlier in the day.

Anyhoo. The movie.

It wasn't that great. But I did spend only five dollars to see it at a matinee, in a relatively empty theater. There was just one mildly annoying lady who laughed a little too loudly and some girls who were quite dolled up and looked great. They also appeared to think my outfit was fabulous. If you're quiet and confident people can think you're up to something important.

The outfits in the movie were wacky but wonderful. My ovaries passed tissues back and forth as they wept over that damn wedding dress montage and I would totally have gone with the Vivienne Westwood number, too. My God! It was so incredibly fantastic. I secretly long to walk down the aisle in something like that. And hate that I have to hide it sometimes! Which brings me to this point: I think it's mean of the press to crap all over how much women were looking forward to this flick. To me it says something about us females: Despite all our modernity, we still want to settle down with one person and build a life together. There's nothing wrong with that.

Well now I feel a rant coming on but I'm not going to pay any attention to it. You're welcome!