I hate Bill

I’ve never worn a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses. Walking through Williamsburg proper-more specifically down Bedford Street around North 6th, North 7th, North 8th, etc., etc., I remember why.
I’m not a trendy girl. Let me re-phrase, I consider myself up on fashion and trends but I don’t live my life by them. I don’t follow trends. Sunglasses, for instance.
One day the hipster kids, taking their cues from Mary Kate (or was it Ashley) Olsen discarded their over-sized sunglasses for Ray Bans from the 80’s. 20 Pairs today. Only about half were actual Ray Bans-where the others were just Urban Outfitter knock offs…nonetheless, Ray Ban style sunglasses.
I realized two things, over my seventh mimosa and third brunch. I really don’t like Williamsburg. I don’t like the uber hipster set; the black leggings, the short, rolled up shorts, the long t-shirts, the stripes…
First brunch, I over heard the most obnoxious conversations. so obnoxious that I don’t really remember them.
When the time comes that Miriam and I decided to move in with one another and we get our apartment in Brooklyn to live our lesbian life-it won’t be in Williamsburg, or any other area of Brooklyn where strollers-pushing moms and dads rub elbows French Bulldog walking emaciated andro boys (girls) Ideally, it will be where we can wear our gigantic sunglasses and our electric blue leggings with cardigans and giant scarves (me) and our tight levis, vintage (real) converse hight tops and flannel shirts and long, long cotton scarves (her) pushing our multi-racial black jewish children with the other mommies and daddies.


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