January is the proper time to prepare for the beachgoing of our summer-futures. It's a good moment to juice and cabbage cleanse, a good moment to reinstitute one's exercise bulemia (five months of which will certainly do the trick). Visions of barbeques and bonfires and shoelessness and scanty clothing spirit me through the hunger hallucinations and overlong, uphill elliptical treks. And last night, I began a round of online swimwear window-shopping and well . . . I found that I liked something sort of atrocious: a plunging Ed Hardy one-piece, in all of its rhinestoned EuroTRASH, Hard Rock Hotel and Casino glory. Look here. And do click to enlarge.I'll be sporting it come June, whether you like it or not.
2 comments:
If you don't sport that I'll never speak to you again
love
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