Recently I've been struggling to wear this vintage elephant print shirt I found (did I mention it was fate?) in Italy while studying abroad. Not only have I been struggling, I've made approximitely twelve different outfits in which the shirt fit perfectly with than exasperated with anxiety anounced I would hold off on wearing it for another day.
What other day? Too many times I've slipped on a pair of new heels only to decide I should save them for that perfect night out. Conclusion (and contrary to my popular belief): nobody really remembers what you wear except your best friend since fifth grade who knows every inch of your closet because she's probably taking mental notes on what she can borrow once you've already worn it atleast once.
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