Say What?

It was c.1995 BTA (Before Tits & Ass) when I was fighting that awkward prepubescent stage. My idea of an outfit worthy to the public eye is baggy jeans big enough to fit a European man and my father's T-shirt, and chunky sneakers like I play for the NBA. I was a girl who looked like a boy trying to look like a girl in boy's clothes. I guess I had so much lesbian potential in such outfits that my mom advised me to wear more fitting clothes. She said I'm still young and thin, so I can afford to flaunt that youth because once I give birth to children and my body is too weak to fight gravity, I will not have that opportunity anymore. I bet she regretted giving me that advise because c.2000 ATA (After Tits & Ass), all I ever heard out of her mouth were
Inappropriate.
Cover up.
Are you seriously wearing that?
Go back up and change.
You're not leaving the house in that
I didn't raise you to look like a whore.

I made the last one up but I bet she thought it.

Mothers, always telling their daughters not to date until they are done with school. Focus on your studies, don't get distracted by boys. But of course, raging hormones vs. mother's wrath. There's no need to pick a winner here. So why do you think daughters end up sneaking around behind their mothers back? To avoid being yelled at and nagged at. Plus, we love the drama that comes with it. They instilled so much fear when it comes to dating during your teens, that you find it insanely annoying when you're 25 and she's bugging you to find a boyfriend to get married. Listen, if your grandmaternal clock is ticking, take the fucking batteries out. You didn't see me up in your face when you threw menopausal tantrums.

That being said, that doesn't mean mothers don't give good advice. My legs and armpits are free from natural fur.