Viewport width =
September 4, 2016 | by  | in Stressed, Depressed and Well-Dressed |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

What to wear when you know you’ll be seeing your ex

We’ve all experienced the feeling that comes with perusing the invite list of an upcoming social event, only to discover that a former dating human shall be in attendance. That amalgamation of dread and some sort of sadistic, twisted satisfaction, at the thought that they’ll see you there, (ideally) shit hot and exquisitely unattainable. The following is a sartorial guide on how to negotiate such encounters:

Seeing them for the first time since before you broke up because you’re a fucking child and did it via Facebook messenger:

Let’s be real—inevitably you’re either hooking up or engaging in a drunk screaming altercation of some description. It’ll be horrific either way. Subsequently, ensure that you’re wearing your slinkiest little black dress, one that gives just enough away to cruelly remind them that they’ll (probably?? hopefully?) never ever see you naked again. However, I would also recommend wearing exceedingly nice underwear in case they do so happen to. Apply winged eyeliner sharp enough to slit throats, paired with highlighter that took 20 minutes to flawlessly apply, then 20 seconds to cry off after they yell at you so aggressively that the bar staff intervene.

With your new boyfriend:

Cultivate the ultimate power couple aesthetic, as though you’ve both stepped out of the pages of Dazed. The look that says “we both effortlessly flung this ensemble on out of the his-and-hers pile of black designer clothing,” or “probably have matching stick-and-poke tattoos after two months,” or even “we share a unisex Comme des Garçons fragrance” couple. She wears Stolen Girlfriends Club, Calvin Klein, and sneers over her Miu Miu shades, he wears Kenzo, vintage McQueen, and debatably more jewellery than she does. Both eat vegan, drink boutique gin, shop at Zambesi, and listen to electronic remixes of African chanting.

“It’s been six plus months but it’s still awkward”:

Honestly they’re so beyond irrelevant that as long as you maintain an air of “why do you think you can speak to me” and a glare that could melt the polar ice caps, you’ll get through this. Bonus points if you get them banned from your workplace for the next two years.

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. Vic Beats a Dead Horse Named University of Wellington
  2. Issue 20, Vol 81: CW: Tits & Bits
  3. Food Sex
  4. A (Selective and By No-Means all-Encompassing) Look at Neo-Soul
  5. A Love Song
  6. Doing It
  7. Top 5 Sexiest TV Shows I I Was Too Young to be Watching But I Did Anyway
  8. My Dad Wrote A Porno
  9. NT: Te Ara Tauira
  10. Sexing up the Hub: Condoms, Clits & Suzy Cato
Website-Cover-Photo7

Editor's Pick

This Ain’t a Scene it’s a Goddamned Arm Wrestle

: Interior – Industrial Soviet Beerhall – Night It was late November and cold as hell when I stumbled into the Zhiguli Beer Hall. I was in Moscow, about to take the trans-Mongolian rail line to Beijing, and after finding someone in my hostel who could speak English, had decided