Oh my God! Let me just start off by saying that I only bought one pair of black, skinny, hot, hot, hot pants. But my friend, she's a different story. It was a beautiful, sunny, California day. You know, the kind you just want to put into a nice care package and send to your friends back on the East Coast. My friend and I, having been in the car for the past two hours tring to find the great "Melrose", were now giddy with excitement as we sprung out of the car in search for the orange skirt she had seen maybe ten blocks back. My friend really, really, really likes orange. Keep in mind, however, as we turned into the street, which would ultimately be where we would park, I turned to my friend and said, "Now, don't get mad at me if you end up spending a lot of money." Just a litlle foreshadowing for you, that's all. So we headed towards to the elusive orange skirt and two blocks into the adventure, she pops her head into Flasher. Oh, Flasher. The name now sends me into the most belly laughing I've had since my first AB/FAB marathon. So she enters the store, and this nice man welcomed us as he dropped his light reading, Dante's "Inferno" , and basically watched as we very innocently looked around the store. Ah, little did we know what was yet to come. We were but little lost lambs in the levels of inferno which would eventually gobble my friend up. Don't get me wrong, the guy was nice, but let's just say, you had to be there.
First, there was me. The man sized me up, literally, and threw some skinny, black jeans towards my face and said, "OOH GIRL, you'll look hot in these" He didn't even ask me my size yet he was right on. I don't own any skinny anything, and so of course, after having a baby, any skinny anything is a warm welcome. He then went on to throw some skinny hoochie momma open toe, boot-like heels underneath the dressing room's yellow curtains and I, just like the little lost lamb that I was, followed orders. I exited the dressing room and woe and behold, there was a leather jacket and fidora hat waiting for me. My friend said that it all reminded her of the Grease scene where sweet little Olivia gets turned into that black leather pants and heels chick. I was just a little lamb I tell you. Then, my friend said...."I'd like to try on those pants too!!!!" One hour, and eleven outfits later, seriously, it was all a blur. One that cost my friend $1,000.00...with discount. But she was told by our attendant that she "Rocked that sh--! and that she'd be getting free drinks at the bar, and well, you understand. " Mi-to had two li-ttle lambs, li-ttle lambs, li-ttle lambs, their legs were co-vered in skinny back jeans" Buyers, no, lambs, beware. Once you've crossed the various levels of inferno, there will be no returns, exchanges, refunds or anything else that normal lamb-loving stores might have. That's because, once you've gotten a breath of the smog-filled LA air again, have ridden the one hour in traffic back to safe, green meadow filled Santa Clarita, gotten back to your senses and decided to research some of the labels you've purchased on your glorious afternoon shopping with your girlfriend who is sadly forced to shop in fuddy duddy Princeton, NJ, and will be leaving LA the next day, you'll find that, first of all, some labels are nowhere to be found, and others, ready for this, are priced so low, that well, what more can I say. But, if it takes $1000.00 to get a laugh bigger than I have ever experienced in my life, then, it was well worth it, for my friend. Because, let me remind you, I just walked away with one pair of black, skinny, hot, hot, hot, pants today. By the way, none of my friend's clothes were the color orange. read more