Because I'm Sure They're Still Idiots

A few years ago my pal Nise went to Italy with an ex-boyfriend-revisited, his sister and a friend of said sister. Now she should have known better having had her fill of the Ex (hence, Ex) and the sister before. To illustrate I'll just say, imagine a trip to beautiful, historic Savannah. That's just what Nise had to do while in Savannah because the siblings-from-hell insisted on spending their time in a sports bar watching football. Eventually she left them there, sucking down light domestic beers and chicken wings at an equal pace, while she explored the city solo.

Italy was no better. Worse even because the sister took advantage of her brother's and Nise's tentative romantic state by making snide comments about everything from politics to touring suggestions to clothes. One morning Nise, who has always been env
iably chic, met her companions wearing an orange pullover and purple scarf.

The sister: Did you put those colors together on purpose?
Nise (if only in her mind): Can I borrow your Bass Weejun? I'd like to shove it up your ass.

After returning home, and making the Ex an Ex once more, Nise e-mailed some trip pics to me. One file caught my attention immediately with its catchy title, 'Smart Car and Idiots on Parade.' Naturally the photo depicted a tiny Euromobile dwarfed by the puffy American siblings.

I've always loved Nise's tales from her Italian ordeal and still laugh, years later, about the 'Idiots on Parade.' So yesterday, when dressing the Mamacita, I made my sartorial decision as a gesture of solidarity to my friend.

Cincin, Nisey!


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