I'm just sitting here drinking my morning coffee wearing Caitlin's Hello Kitty slippers, a five pound shocking pink fluffy robe, dripping wet hair, and a mud mask on my face. Oh yea, and a pair of those little magnifying dollar store reading glasses are perched half way down my nose.
As I flipped through the latest Victoria Secret sale catalog, I notice Caitlin has circled something on just about every page. I like her choices. I think to myself, "those" are cute. Mmm, this is sexy. Hey, this is a cool new color, etc. It suddenly dawns on me, Cait is 18, I am 51, there is no way the things she picks out and wears has any business being part of my wardrobe. I start to look closer at these perfectly air brushed models, flawless skin, youthful faces and bodies.
I have a sudden epiphany. I have figured out Victoria's secret. It's the simple fact that you have to be under the age of 28 to be able to wear most things in her catalog. Unless of course, you don't have any mirrors in your house.