Woe is this modern woman
Welcome to Duffy Kelly’s Blog
There is perhaps nothing quite so fine as spending about 37 hours getting ready to go somewhere important, putting on my new shirt, even combing my hair and then having my teenage daughter say, “So Mom, what decade is that shirt from?”
This is the way it goes at my house. No matter how hard I shop for a new shirt, no matter how long I spend choosing pants from under the bed, I still don’t look modern. Hip? Wow? Forget it.