PRIDE : Identity Crisis

I went into Tommy Bahama today.

(pausing for screams)

It was out of desperation.

I'm feeling a little, well, rotund and couldn't find a cute skirt in all of the Grove. The Grove, my 2nd home, has let me down. I'm a little depressed. I think that's what drove me to the nauseatingly coconutty home of Mr. Bahama. I took about 5 steps in, fingered a wrap skirt with pineapples on it, then quickly shook myself out of a trance and ran out.

For those of you mystified by my horror (and if you're a woman under the age of 39...I imagine you already understand), let me explain. There are certain establishments that young women, such as myself, don't frequent. We may mock them, we may (as a last resort) peruse the merchandise for mom's Xmas gift...but we do NOT purchase anything there. A friend recently found a fabulously flattering pair of jeans at J. Jill. She is hesitant to admit it, and now questions her entire being.

By the way, Minnie Driver, saw you in the Nordie's upscale juniors section. You looked luminous. I bet you've never even heard of Tommy Bahama.

p.s. Thanks again, Gawker. You cheered me with up with this:
http://www.liquidgeneration.com/poptoons/bradjen_usher.asp