Ferociously slutty

I am slightly scared of ferociously slutty people. The people who wear underwear as outerwear, who wander around casually dressed in the odd fig leaf and so on. I have so many questions. What do they do with all the bits of themselves they don’t want other people to see? Are these wobbly, dimpled bits carefully removed and slung into their over-sized handbags? (They always have oversized handbags. It’s the rule).

(The baby is smiling because it is being carried inside a handbag the size of a normal dining room)

Do they shun wardrobes and instead keep this season’s wardrobe in a carefully co-ordinated shoebox? It’s all very perplexing. I wouldn’t mind if they went about naked. Naked, that’s absolutely fine. It’s this conspicuous attention seeking that I fear. It’s so cunning. ‘Oh, I see you staring at me, you bourgeois clothed lady. I see you looking and wondering where I am storing my shoebox-wardrobe. But see-I am not naked at all! I am wearing knickers. Yes, knickers. I am completely appropriately dressed. Oh, and I am also wearing some flip flops. Luckily, I am very slender so I myself do not flop about at all. Oh, how charmingly ironic!’

I also have some questions about where these women shop. Do they really go into Rigby & Peller and say, ‘no, that’s great, I’ll wear this now. Can you just take the tags off please?’ (I wonder sometimes if the shop assistants have become confused and removed the actual garment, leaving this poor woman to wander the streets in impeccably bought security tags. It would certainly explain the tassels).

I myself have tried valiantly. Unfortunately my cleaner keeps re-gifting my new, slutty clothes to my younger sister. ‘Is good for young people, yes? You, no good.’ It seems I am also slightly scared of my cleaner. And I have certainly never seen her knickers.

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