Day 8: Blouses

As I ended my t-shirt phase, I moved into a phase of colorful blouses: ones that sat on my shoulders and ones with French writing, some tight and some looser. There are even a couple of strapless shirts mixed in there. But let's be honest, they were all doomed from the start. The tight were too tight, and the loose, too loose. The strapless, well, there's just so little to hold them up that wearing them feels like I might inadvertently flash someone at any moment. Considering the limited amount of time I spend indecently exposed on Bourbon Street (oh wait, that's never) or at friends' get-togethers (still never), I suppose I have two options: visit a plastic surgeon for some extra support, or give away the shirts. All other considerations aside, the latter is clearly more cost-effective. Option two, it is.