Walking into the club with your girls, there’s a silent agreement among you that on the way to the bar you’re all going to slay. You can’t simply walk in a color this fierce. You have to strut.
$9.99
Walking into the club with your girls, there’s a silent agreement among you that on the way to the bar you’re all going to slay. You can’t simply walk in a color this fierce. You have to strut.
Weight | 0.5 oz |
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Dimensions | 1.125 × 1.125 × 3 in |
Color | Black |
Arriving to warm hugs from all the relatives you haven’t seen in awhile at the family get together.
Clinging to your scarf as you shiver your buns off, you can’t help but wonder how you, a southern girl, managed to be up north for the winter.
The kids can have the costumes. You and your friends are too busy working towards sugar-induced commas on the couch for a scary movie night.
Skimming through an old diary you land on page with a memory so clear it might as well be a picture. “Dear Diary, September 7, 2006…he kissed me.”
10 PM. That was pretty late for a five year old. But there you were, every year, with all your siblings fighting a loosing battle against sleep. All so you could catch a glimpse of the man himself.
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