I am a proud product of the acid-washed and neon decade of the 80s. And still holding out for my 'bad boy with a heart o' gold' that I can give one of my diamond studs to at the end of a very long day that will - with fist pumped high into the air - wanna be with lipstick-applyin' me.
Or for the guy named Jake that will stand outside the front of my house by his bright and shiny cherry red sportscar in his sweater vest and cuffed jeans that will confirm he's really there for me - even in my total state of flower wreath-wearin' bewilderment - and that will bring me a birthday cake, even if there's a few more candles than the proverbial sixteen placed on top of it.
And for the clever, clever boy that will scheme and do anything - and I mean anything - to break me out of the doldrums and monotony of another boring-ish day (a serenade via parade, anyone?) just because he wants to spend his only day off with little ol' me.
And, last but not least, for Duckie sportin' the killer white wingtip shoes who knows the secret to really winnin' this heart o' mine - just try a little tenderness - that would escort me to my prom since my snobby would-be-date stood me up (the nerve!) But I wouldn't be in a pretty pink frock, oh no. I'd be in this acid-washed number that I just so happened to find over on With Lavender and Lace. Popped collar and all.
Photo(s) Source: With Lavender And Lace
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Spill.