The sixth-grader in me wanted to leave out one of the letters in the title of this post, but goodness, at the very least, I can pretend to be mature and appropriate.
I’m purposely posting this on a Saturday in hopes that only a faithful few will even see it. I’m praying that all the naysayers and boo-hissers have better things to do on a Saturday in March than read my blog.
So you might remember a little fiasco a few months (a year?) ago that ensued when I mentioned that I might have maybe bought an undergarment or two at the thrift store. Then there was a whole blow-up because I said something not-very-nice (that I totally regret) about an employee at a certain undergarment store.
Anyway, I shed a few tears over the whole thing, and it will be a cold August in San Antonio before I step foot into another VS store.
On a related note, I just finished Beth Moore’s So Long Insecurity this week (HIGHLY recommend it), and in chapter 16 she talks about going to the mall with her daughters and how they always slyly try to lose her before they enter the aforementioned “certain undergarment store.” They know better. They know they won’t escape the store unembarrassed, unscathed.
One of my darling friends (I’m not going to mention her name, but she lives in TX and we met her on the Zoo Trip) sent me a link this week that just made my night. She said, “at least you KNOWINGLY bought used unmentionables. The rest of us have been TRICKED!”
If you’ve ever bought a pair of panties from Miss Vicki (or the Gap, Bloomingdale’s or Macy’s), BEWARE. And click this link only if you dare.
I share because I care. Have a great weekend, friends!