Dudes, don’t even act sensitive. You already know how women are with dressing: We care about what we wear, what other women wear and try to dictate what you wear. Really though, you should have expected a blog like this eversince yesterday. Just read and feel free to thank me later, with roses and words of adoration. Truly yours, _guerdley
Thanks to the paternal influences of Dave Chappelle and Ike Turner, every time I see a man with a pinky ring I envision it’s cold impression bitch slapped on my cheek. If your walking on the arm of a man wearing a pinky ring UNDERSTAND you’ve signed a social contract agreeing to be bitch slapped around town at his discretion. Can’t sign that dotted line, son. My cheeks are too rosey
4. Man Cleavage
I GET IT: Your sexy and your pecks are probably bigger than my baby B- cups.Unfortuantley, I don’t care, not even a little bit. I don’t ever, ever, ever want to see your chest hair worn as an accessory of fashion. Why? Anytime a man dons his chest hair with pride its just a matter of time before he expects a woman to fawn over it in the same manner he clearly does. Wait and see, under the right dimming and ambience he IS going to whisper, “Baby… Stroke my garden of chest hair…. slowly.” And out of sheer horror I will be forced to cry and scream. Much rather avoid the whole circumstance all together; If I can see your ta-tas, then ta-ta.
3. Long White T’s
Just because it so damnnnnnnnnnnnn lazy and uncreative I can’t support it. White V-necks? Aight. Wifebeatas? eh aight. But classic 1997 rapper apparell long white T’s? Ridiculous, truly and honestly. If his everyday fashion STILL consists of a white T, jeans, topped off with a matching sneaker and hat combo, I’ll be forced to question how seriously he takes life. Sad, but true.
2. T shirts with skulls, rhinestones, twisted cursive, or any form of embezzlement
I can’t help but feel like all he wants to do is take me home and fist pump me to death while techno- euro-trash-electro- pop blares in the background. Something about those T’s scream frat-boy rough-housing further aggravated by steroids and Cuervo. Not exactly the trembling walk of shame I look forward to taking in the a.m…No Thanks Bro’.
1. THESE THINGS
I love Jesus, but I don’t want to date him. I can’t imagine a man possessing a cool, confident stride in these down-trodden ass sandals… Can you? The thought of it makes me uncomfortable, almost as if his toes are out solely to judge me for my superficiality. Like, if I was really down for the cause then I should be wearing a pair of humble ass sandals as well. And all that judgement is just too much pressure for a gal like me, hence its reigning position.
Let’s see, what did I forget? Tweet me @wwmdtv and let me know. I can complain about ugly shit for days, promise Love you lovers!