Hoping for a stitch of fate with Emma’s fabulous top.

That is to say, I’m certain you presumably get this a great deal — haha — yet it simply feels like we could be companions, you know Like, the sort of companions who speak with, an each other look images, who get each other’s garments. Tune in, you don’t know me from an opening in the wall. I am nevertheless a small machine gear-piece in the VIP modern perplexing, a senseless little essayist searching for some Website optimization scraps so I can overcome my shift and gather installment.

I surmise this is a tiny bit of note for me to say: hello Emma, could I at any point get that top? You know the one, correct? That you wore to The Revile FYC even in New York City on December 29th while spending time with your colleagues Benny Safdie and Nathan Defender at the 12 PM Theater? You matched it with an impressively lengthy, dark coat, basic shoes and pants, and — obviously — that “is it cowhide or is it not?”- level sparkling, wonderfully organized.

I love it! To such an extent! Might I at any point acquire it? Like perhaps only for a day? Like, I realize we aren’t a similar size or anything (I’m 5’11” and drifting somewhere near 180 pounds and yes I’m exceptionally bold for distributing that on the web, thank you for seeing!), yet perhaps it’ll work! Like The Sisterhood of the Voyaging Jeans, however it’s a shirt? On the off chance that those young ladies could all squeeze into that equivalent goddamn sets of enchanted pants, perhaps there’s an opportunity for this shirt and I to resolve it. Perhaps quite possibly’s this senseless second really occurs — that you let me get that top and I wear it and it some way or another supernaturally fits and it’s the beginning of a lovely story.