I’ve always enjoyed the process of dressing up. I suppose it’s because it was always a big part of my nightly ritual. I’d take the rollers out of my hair, step out of my robe, and slip on my newest stolen dress. Then I’d slick on some lipstick and spritz some perfume before leaving my shitty apartment and heading to a glossy casino with the intention of hitting men in their pockets. Le sigh. Those were the days.
