Author: Marc Teale

A girl at Starbucks yesterday was dressed as Strawberry Shortcake.  Not in a good way.  Imagine if you’d taken the time to create a Strawberry Shortcake outfit, but instead of being cute and innocent, you decided to not eat for several days and slink against a wall while being extremely uncomfortable being stared at.

You wore a Strawberry Shortcake outfit to Starbucks, on a Thursday, at nine in the morning.  People are going to stare at you.  Accept this.

It’s worth pointing out that there’s an art school a block away from this Starbucks.

In a barely related matter, I went to a fashion show last night along with some friends.  It’s easily one of the last things I ever thought I would find myself doing.  One of the baristas at said Starbucks is a fashion designer and had a portion of the show.  I didn’t have anything else to do, and I’d never been to one, so… why not.

The first two designers were unimpressive.  Jeans and a t-shirt with a logo on it?  Seriously?  I could come up with that, and I didn’t know how to match my shirt and pants until I was a junior in high school.  The most interesting thing to come out was basically a t-shirt that reached to just below the crotch with “She’s all that” written on it.

Natasha’s, the Starbucks barista’s, work was different, and not just because I was looking for it.  She had a unifying theme (peacock feathers and blue lipstick) that tied together her entire set.  Hers was a notable improvement over the previous three designers, and one that was obvious enough for a fashion idiot like myself to catch.  I can’t really speak to her dress designs due to the whole fashion idiot thing… and being male… but I was impressed nonetheless.

Natasha’s show was followed immediately by intermission.  I used the opportunity to drink a $8.50 beer, urinate, and jump on the now-unguarded Ducati motorcycle sitting in the lobby.

Only nine thousand dollars? I thought.  Shit, I need to buy one of these!

It’s amazing what alcohol can turn into a good idea.

We missed one complete show, then returned to watch a bit of the end of another.  The theme seemed to have been “Auschwitz.”  Never have I seen so many angry emaciated women in one place before.  None of them looked healthy.  I can only guess that the designer was trying to save on fabric by getting the tiniest models available.

We bailed shortly after, and continued drinking.