First posts are a pain in the arse.
Although my life is (IMO) fabulously interesting, I’m pretty sure you want to read about it as much as my family loves to listen to me talk about it every time I go home for a holiday.
So, being that this is my first post as a blogging intern for Bobo Academy, a company that sells clothing, I suppose I should lead with something clothing and/or fashion related.
PSA: I’m not good at fashion. Liz and Nik hired me for my wit, charm and questionable grammar. They definitely did not hire me on the basis of my firmly held beliefs that flip flops are shoes, jeans are suitable for all occasions, t-shirts and their sleeveless cousins are the only shirts you ever need, and pockets are made to store your livelihood so you never have to carry a handbag. Ever.
So, rather than pretend that I am wholly suited to this position, let’s start with a story which is adjacently related to fashion.
Last night, my wife (not really, but she cooks, I clean, so #married) arrived at my house. She brought food, with the intention of cooking it. So, I opened the door immediately, clad in mismatched underwear and my most dashing ‘come hither’ look, whilst dripping in sweat on account of the 40°C Japanese heat and my attempt to save money on air conditioning.
Anyway, the wife gave me what I will choose to believe was an appreciative once over before handing me a bag of food and my favourite line of all time – “I brought you a present!” – which I at first thought meant something dirty, but was actually: gift! present! #married
After dumping said bag of food into the fridge I was soon holding a much loved denim jacket, one that I had been subtly stealing and coveting.
For the past two months.
Using my outside voice.
Yeap, flying bricks? My specialty.
So, after squealing (maturely, in a womanly tone) in delight, I proceeded to assist the wife in preparing dinner by singing everything in my 80s playlist, dancing around my apartment and playing on my phone whilst giggling at memes of Donald Trump.
What can I say? I’m an educated, world politics loving multi-tasker.
She loves saying “Get out of my kitchen! I’m trying to cook!”
Match made in heaven.
End result? We both ate a healthy balanced meal, re-watched an episode of OITNB, put on our pajamas, had a pillow fight and then went straight to sleep after discussing the feminist and gay agenda under the cover of darkness like all of the lesbian and bisexual women of this world.
Point? Who said any of this required a point?
If you appreciate your wife / girlfriend / lover / sex friend / lesbian bff / gay husband / best LGBTQ ally / PFLAG Chapter President you should gift her / him / them your 2-year-old well-loved denim jacket. Because nothing says love like something you’ve been sweating in on and off for around 730 days, give or take.
Or, if you’re not willing to sacrifice one of your favourite pieces of clothing for love (even when your best friend bought you a new one and no one needs two), then buy them a new Bobo Academy shirt from this website, after reading this blog which will be painstakingly crafted by two hapless volunteers - myself and the gorgeous Elli - that Liz and Nik found on the boulevard of average Instagram accounts.Then you too can eat the dinner your Mrs. slaved over for you and have your own dance-off whilst intentionally leaving the dishes for tomorrow so you can have a pajama party.
See? It was all relative.
Support Bobo, read the blog!
This is Tara, your new Bobo Academy blogging intern:
Articles will be related to actual things in the future.