Hey, Hobo, tell us a story.
Rob and I won a trip to Delaware but things went downhill quickly when we refused to pay the $5 airport tax. Rob shook his fist at the ticket counter and we were thrown out for breaking the “Anti-Fist-Shaking Law.” With minimal transportation options, Rob suggested we wait for a freight train to roll through Shushan. On the train we met a hobo, and after giving him a thorough sponge bath, he told us a story.
Ok, I’m totally kidding. We were taking the long road through VT listening to a Howard Stern segment about a 600-lb woman who has a website where she funnels heavy cream and chocolate milk. The initial reason for pulling over will be hinted at in a moment.
It was a perfect, storybook, sweltering Vermont afternoon, complete with stops for roadside ice cream, a pit stop in the bushes where I was caught with my pants down by a very talkative stray cat, waves hello to the Battenkill cows, and various species of roadkill.
This shirt is my new favorite thing. I got it in hot pink as well (sale at jcrew.com, check it out), and it has this Isabel Marant feel to it with the fluorescent accents. I can’t wait to wear them with all black, when I won’t risk heatstroke as a result.