Zara top and pants, Diva necklace, Sportsgirl ring, Cambridge Satchel
In my mind, striped shirts are synonymous with Paris.
Not France, mind you.
Specifically, Paris.
Over the course of my life, I'm not exactly sure how I managed to come to this conclusion, but efforts to reprogram my brain into thinking otherwise has been one of my biggest failures ... right after the time I tried giving up potato chips for good.
I mean, I see a bag of potato chips lying around my house or at the grocery store and you can't expect me to not touch it reverently (seriously, is it my fault that one thing always leads to another?). Similarly, I see a striped shirt on someone, I automatically think "PA-RIS!!!" - with the hyphen and that exact number of exclamation marks.
Note that I said 'think', and not 'exclaim'. This is because I am not a moron and can tell the difference between reality and delusion.
