I haven't a thing to Wear

You know that feeling when you open your jam-packed wardrobe only to shake your tired head and stare into the sparse landscape of hanging garments that never quite justify your lust for cashmere and crocodile? And then, with a sigh so unsatisfied you could be considered truly melancholy you tell yourself, "Gosh. I haven't a thing to wear."

I would just like to say that fashion merchandising in this country is SHOT. Really, I couldn't buy a worthy piece if I tried, or had all the money in the world. There's just not enough choice. Where are the retail giants that populate Europe's high streets and New York's grand avenues? Where are the bargains and les soldes and the glittering window displays? All we have are measly selections of Europe's 'last season picks' and grumpy check out clerks who garble among each other while ringing up our purchases.

I suggest that in protest, every girl and avid retail therapy participant conduct one single day of their daily activities in want, but not in need, of the clothing they so aspire toward owning. By this I mean go Naked.