My Las Vegas report will no doubt dribble out slowly, in part because it will take me a few days to recover from the violent sensory overload, and in part because--let's face it--I'm too lazy to be as cohesive and enthralling as the incomparable Gura.
Let's just get started. First stop: a memo.
To: The Women in the Casinos
From: Someone who Strives Only to be of Help
re: Common Sense
Let me begin by saying, I understand. I do. In a setting like Las Vegas, it's a natural tendency to put yourself on display, to court longing looks, to travel in packs with like-minded women who share your penchant for the heavy-handed application of pancake foundation and/or hair products. That's...okay. But I beg you to consider these three things:
1) Just because backless, shimmery, mere slips of shirts are available for purchase, it does not mean that you must buy one. And just because someone made the dreadful mistake of filling store racks with the umpteenth coming of the flouncy mini-skirt, it does not mean that you must buy one. These items--especially when worn in tandem--complement only about four hundred women. Four hundred women in the entire known world. The chances that you are one of these women is not so good. I ask only that you keep this in mind.
2) It's true that ponchos had a brief, shining moment last spring and early this summer. The excellent thing about ponchos is that they are easy to store. You can just fold them up into a tidy square and place them at the very back of your closet. And that's what you should do right now.
3) Please don't paint elaborate pictures on your toenails. Why would you do such a thing? That time is better spent tending to your eyebrows. Trust me.
In sisterhood,
Veronica
Waiting, now, for my claws to retract...
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