it's summertime

I love summer. The heat, the events, the higher than usual ratio of flesh to clothing. Especially on sweltering, sticky, get me some a/c ASAP days like today, a walk around town means cutoff shorts, tank tops, and for me, the realization that EVERYONE is tattooed. Some are forced to keep their ink under wraps in the workplace, and I would think that during the summer months they take every available opportunity to proudly display their artwork to the world. The subtle sense of liberation this must provide is the same that characterizes my post-work dressing habits recently. I have to wear a corporate symbol-emblazoned black polo shirt to work every day, so when I get home and rifle through my closet to find the perfect evening ensemble, I construct some pretty funky looks. It's like a subconscious rebellion. When off the clock I rock my leopard-print running shorts and acid-washed purple tee, and the secretly tatted office employee bears flesh like a drunk minor at a taping of Girls Gone Wild. I'm blessed enough to reap the satisfaction of double rebellion (tats and wacky duds!), and paired with the abundance of tats finally getting some air, it's pretty obvious why I love summer.
So, today I was lounging on a hammock reading "The Simpsons and Philosophy" and listening to the Flaming Lips, when I got distracted by the calla lily tattoo located on my right arm. I just stared at it, mesmerized for a moment by the colors and the beautiful shading it contains, imagining what I might surround it with once funds are a bit more plentiful. Now, as you might be able to tell from my above spiel about my love of rocking fun clothes, I love clothes. I'm a sucker for super-soft American Apparel tees even though they're ridiculously expensive for a friggin t-shirt, and if I come across a unique piece that catches my eye, I have to have it. Labels don't matter much to me, and actually, the more obscure the better. In any case, this little obsession makes it quite difficult to get any saving done. I've been working for about 2 months since I got home from school, and I have a depressingly low savings balance to show for it. Granted, I went to Miami for a week and have been taking a lot of trips into NYC, so it hasn't all gone toward clothes, but I'm certain that the $42 I shelled out recently for a pair of zebra print leggings could have been better spent, perhaps on a tank of gas or a phone bill payment...
In any case, as I'm lying there staring at my tat, shining in the sunlight, I made a decision. I need my half sleeve, more than I need any more shit in my closet. It's already overflowing, and I love most of the stuff I have. So, I've entered myself into SHA, Shopaholics Anonymous, and am finally on my way to recovery. Now excuse me, I need to make an appointment...