love letters are for losers in love like me

:: dear morgan ::

since i stumbled upon divine raggs...

i do not believe i have touched a black article of clothing.

i feel feisty.

i'm still a bit of a wallflower, but an ebullient, show-0ffy peony of a wallflower.

i'm open to colors i thought were kind of ugly, and i fully purchase into the belief that those who find colors ugly have just not tried hard enough to make them pretty.

i get compliments like after-dinner mints at a subpar restaurant.

i have lemon zest in my heart.

my clothes have replaced my cappuccinos as far as a pick-me-up is concerned.

in your clothes, so far, i have: trekked up a canyon, aced exams, met intimidating people, breezed through getting-to-know-you's, provoked speechlessness, gotten excited in the middle of too many morning runs to count because it was almost time to get showered + dressed, learned to love my getting-ready routine, fallen in like, in adoration, and every number of words beginning with "l," brushed-up on my language-learning, mastered my chemical equations, prayed, played, worked, performed, danced, felt actualized, hugged an itchy tree, kissed a shiny earth a new way each day.

i really do feel like your clothes make me feel like me.

you can call that up cheese if you like, but i'll just demand it's feta, and pair it with a full-bodied wine + champagne grapes.

i just possess that kind of moxie, that kind of style, that (katherine) hepburn lip and (audrey) hepburn lissomeness now.

your raggs just kind of fell in place with all that.

thanks. i'm keeping 'em.

i'm definitely coming back for more.

you're a well-dressed angel in some very kickass threads.

love,

mckenzie

xohxohxOH-X!