Crosses

So here’s something. There’s no pants in this styling concept. I’m just going to leave that thought there, as I now awkwardly segway into a change of topic. When I was in my twenties, I went window shopping at AOC with a big packet of potato chips, and somehow found myself on an escalator I didn’t want to be on, going in the opposite direction to the one I wanted to be going. So, I decided to turn back. In my mind, I saw this working out fine. In reality, a completely misguided attempt to run up a down escalator, ended with a packet of chips bursting all over the escalator, and me running from said escalator clutching my jaw, which I smashed on the way down. Luckily the only thing broken was my pride. Never did it again though. Not even on those ramp escalators.

crosses

 

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