I waited an hour. A FUCKING HOUR in line for the dressing room. I could see the line for the registers which took up half the store and looked twice as long, and it kindof made me hope that nothing fit right so I could just leave and get the whole thing over with.
Luckily, the people designing for Forever 21 not only have a penchant for really boring clothes made with plain solid colors, but also for making the most un-wearable cuts EVER. The shirts looked like boxes - I may as well have put a plastic grocery bag on and drawn some buttons on front. It would probably last longer then that crap anyway.
One of the dresses was a logistical nightmare and would neither unbutton nor unzip far enough to get over my head. Then it got stuck and I had to use some serious willpower not to just rip it off of me. I guess I should have opted for one of those sweet maternity-core dresses instead, since they’re like one size fits all or something.
An hour and a half after entering as a cheerful girl with money burning a hole in her pocket, I left an angry, sweaty tangled-hair mess. And I stole some sweet technicolor headbands as payment for making me spend over an hour of my life which I will never get back in that godawful fucking store in that horrendous fucking line listening to some lame techno CD which was turned up to 11 and skipping the entire time. See ya later alligator.
