I wish hooters was booters: Sometimes when I’m posting about life’s many happenings I forget about fashion and clothes, hence was one of the main reasons I started this blog (girlrillavintage). The world is a beautiful kaleidoscope- taffeta of glorious stains, distinguished from the surface. Everyone scratching and etching their very own into it’s fabric. A fabric so vast. Every creature breathing to hold space in their very own ways, for all existence-all of us entangled in a web like natty goodness. Any whosters. I found this tank at the thrift earlier this year. I’ve thought long and hard for as long as I can remember, or for as long as Hooters has been in business about how I wished Hooters was in fact Booters ’cause I’m bottom heavy, yah a dig meh? To me ain’t no shame here, embrace here. Booters are like some organic, home grown veggies and fruit, good for the soul and not bad on the eyes at all. Dates back to my mamas, mothers, grandmothers and nem.

And instead of serving up deep fried anything I would serve up herbal everything (cause if you ain’t healing there is no space for you here) in my swim ‘shotes’, twerk it on a side stack of gluten free yam pancakes, or some curried lentils rolled tight in Ingera- all for the love of people. 🙂 So in the name of SAMO (Basquiat’s and such-visual artists) I kindly defaced this tank to make it personal like the battle between Ramo vs. Spit in the movie Beat Street. Changing one letter made this my shit lol! I hope ya’ll feel me on this. The ‘B’ on this tank is a symbol of my affection and how I value those bottom thickly, plump, ass oceans, tear drops, hour glass, pear shaped, Afro-grapes, chunky, curvacious, muscular skeletoned-’hipsters’ with zebra stripes, jell-O molds, creased, spread wide all out to the side, and cotton soft folds. Our thick is so fine! Sending cup love to the Hooters, but I’m gone need all of the bottom heavy tree lovers to hug the Booters lol! One love
Gracie Berriberry