Tattoos for the commitment wary
Hey Mister, spare a dime of your time for slow fashion’s cool kid?
During the 5 years I lived in Dublin, I never once sat down.
So it was an act of rebellion the other day when I took a cup of coffee and sat on the limestone steps in the front square of Trinity College.
I watched the girl next to me diligently translate a dating profile.
I watched Asian boss babes in electric blue coats rush across the large square (I too once thought speed was a virtue).
Mennonite moms and endless amounts of wide eyed teenagers wandered through the gates and I envied them their first glance of the campus.
Searching for commonality in the crowd, I tried to find patterns in the passing faces of every race.
No one was particularly tall.
No one swore.
No one had a tattoo.
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