The Fashion of Carcasses

Relax; you can eat a cheeseburger in front of me.

There exists a common misperception about vegans and vegetarians: that they are all self-righteous, bordering-on-pompous “do-gooders” who become enraged at the sight of anyone biting down into a juicy chunk of meat. Granted, some do; they throw absolute hissy fits, spieling facts from PETA left and right. In my experience, however, they’re rare – you wouldn’t judge all Christians by the actions of Fred Phelps and his Merry Band of Evangelists, would you? 

I don’t eat meat, but I don’t mind when other people eat meat. Full disclosure: sometimes, I still really crave a nice, well-done steak or bacon – mmm, bacon.

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In Defense of Leggings as Pants

I’m a short girl – five feet and three and a half inches (the half inch is really important), to be exact.

Over the years, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with my height, especially while shopping. Clothes, it seemed, were made only to look good on tall people. During middle school and early high school, when both my awkwardness and preoccupation with the Gap reached its peak, I dreamt of magically growing five inches (I would have settled for two or three) and being able to wear anything I wanted.

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