And the Devil is a Cross Dresser.

The Rolling Stones sang about putting on your red dress ’cause we’re going out tonight. Well, we ain’t.

I have never ever worn a red dress in my life. Red screams confidence. I mostly wear black. Black is comfortable. Red is confident. Today I wore the red dress because I wanted to feel confident, I wanted to feel like I was contributing some sort of colour palette to society. I am also getting my period, I think.

You get told a lot that you don’t wear colours. Why should I wear something I don’t want to? Why can’t I just wear black all the time? Maybe I like it. Maybe it makes me feel good.

Red makes me feel good, but in a different way. It makes me feel like I’m going to kick someone’s ass.

I wear a lot of dresses. I hate pants. I have big thighs and pants accentuate them. Dresses make me feel pretty and I get to hide my thighs.

Hips you can’t hide, they’re a mile wide. But a pretty dress and a pretty smile can get you far in life.

Except Jane Austen had something to say:

“Dress is at all times a frivolous distinction, and excessive solicitude about it often destroys its own aim.”

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