Let's see, what do politics and Thanksgiving have in common? Stuffing! (The ballot box and the turkey, of course!) I'm a huge fan of The Vermont Country Store . I love their selection of old time merchandise, retro favorites, healthy foods, and more. I was clicking through their site and found this:
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In 9th grade I wore Dickies under my goofy preppy sweaters. One day, I discovered that if I tucked the son-of-a-gun into my bra, "voila!" I had boobs. Swear to God. I don't know what I expected come Spring, when the Dickie disappeared and so did my chest.
I've never told that story. But I don't mind telling you the story. I was a Dickie D cup. Well, maybe a solid B.....
4 comments:
Wow. I've never heard a dickie story like that before. I know what you're getting for Christmas.
From an almost A in highschool I can understand!
I have other dickie stories, but this is a family blog. Ok, The ADDAMS family, but you know....
That's too funny! I was very much on the "don't want those horrible boobs!" side of the preteen coin. I hated adolescence and watching my body transform in it's womanly way. Now, however, I may have to buy some dickies so I can have a womanly winter!
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