Hiromi_X

I don't have a large income, so forking over $50 for a bra made me cringe, but I haven't bought a bra in, well, years, and I was getting sick of the straps of ill-fitting bras slipping down my shoulders. I should relax about the price because I take such scrupulous care of my clothes that they last for years and years. Anyway, It Was Time. So I hied myself to the mall the other day and bought a Wacoal t-back bra. It fits *perfectly*. No wires dig into my flesh. Nothing protrudes weirdly. Aaaahhh...I'm sure my female readers can relate to this feeling.

I foresee some wiseass might make a comment questioning why women bother wearing bras, but I'm not comfortable with even the minimal amount of jiggle that my small boobs produce. Bralessness feels too exposed for me. I've experimented with bralessness in the past, but I feel vulnerable when I do it, even if I'm wearing a camisole/shirt combination. Too bad strapless bras feel so weird, though. I feel like they're going to fall down any minute, even if they fit well.

Posted by Hiromi at 3:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Created by Ben Prisk

I haven't imagined my alter ego in this guise. The drawing was based on car ads from the '60s, so I imagine myself wearing pale lipstick and false eyelashes. I'm on my way to lunch and then a museum exhibit after a morning of light shopping.

But where does Hiromi get her money? I'm definitely not a kept woman -- a crime-fighting mixer-wielding superheroine is kept by no man! No, I'm an heiress to a disposable chopstick fortune.

I'm having lunch with you guys, of course. Or rather, your alter egos! Preeze accept my invitation by leaving a description of your alter ego in the comments, so I can recognize you.

Posted by Hiromi at 9:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (28)

I wonder how closely my blog persona matches my actual persona. I never set out to create a fictitious blog persona, but in person, I'm not so serious all the damn time like I am in this blog, particularly now. Crises are no longer imminent (I think). I just finished work, and don't feel like doing anything remotely serious or even vaguely good for me. Or anything that requires thought. I want frivolous: shopping, eating, and watching TV.

I'm gonna have my third expensive bowl of premium ice cream in as many days, and then I'm going shopping for a new bag. For the ice cream, I'm getting Texas butterscotch with mini marshmallows pounded into it (I love how the marshmallows get chewy when half-frozen) with butterscotch sauce on top. And whipped cream. I'm getting rid of my messenger bag because it's too unstructured, the flap is a pain in the ass when you're trying to get something out of it quickly, and the damn velcro keeps snagging my sleeves. No backpacks: they're too student-y for me and I hate fucking with so many zippers and drawstrings. Attache cases with short handles bang against my knees and can be carried in only one way. I don't want a boring leather shoulder bag. I want something with personality.

...

Oh for fuck's sake.

Now I'm all deflated. I wanted some goddamn levity for once, but while writing that paragraph I started to wonder, Is this what it's come to? Consumption as entertainment of choice? Consumption as relaxation?

I'm not going to any old ice cream place, I'm going to Amy's, which is a local business that supposedly embodies Austin hipsterism, so I'm not only eating tasty premium ice cream, or even merely conducting a commercial transaction, but participating in a cultural experience. That whole concept is out and out depressing. And then I'm going out to the mall to look for a commodity that will serve as some sort of personal expression.

On the other hand, will I ever lighten the fuck up?

Posted by Hiromi at 4:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)