I always felt like a pedophile walking into Icing at Claire’s, but my wife wanted to look at ear rings, and when wife talks, husband listens. The reason for my discomfort is apparent to any fully grown man that enters this store. From wall to wall the mass produced, over priced, cheap jewelry is designed to adorn the body of a young girl between the ages of six to sixteen. Between the Tween bop music that blares ad nauseum, to the wall to wall mirrors that reflect back a figure of human sadness to be caught in this space, the souls mourns and the “Y” chromosome tries desperately to rip itself from your body.
This is hyperbole, but the sad fact is there’s a nugget of truth to it.
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