On late Monday night, I came across a photo of a 20-something woman wearing tiny sunglasses and a vaguely Western outfit that sent a quick but intense jolt of anxiety through me. I couldn’t immediately identify her, but she instilled in me a perplexing, slightly unpleasant cocktail of emotions. I felt intimidated. I suddenly became self-conscious about the ratty white T-shirt and old American Apparel shorts I was wearing to bed. I felt oddly compelled to start unnecessarily apologizing a lot? I don’t know, it was weird.
The person looked vaguely familiar, and a little cursory research revealed that the woman in the photo is Miley Cyrus, 27, debuting her new “textured mullet hairstyle.” I mean, I guess so? But I’m not sure I’m convinced. No, actually, I’m pretty sure this is the buyer at Beacon’s Closet — the one off the Morgan L in Bushwick, to be exact, who typically wants maybe one out of eight pieces of clothing I’ve come in to sell, and offers me no more than $10 for it. Not that she’s gratuitously judgmental or cruel! It’s me who has the bad taste in clothes, I think, or at least that’s how I feel every time I try to sell my old shit to her, who looks like she gets her hair cut at Hair Metal in Williamsburg and used to eat a lot of cheese puffs at the Levee in the mid-2010s.
Anyway, wow, I feel so much better now that I’ve resolved that. I guess this means it’s time for me to Marie Kondo my closet and pay her a visit.