Security tag.

This was the dress I wore to the wedding in Chicago two weekends ago. Near or around the time beautiful Jenny was walking down the aisle, my butt started to hurt something fierce. I figured the chairs were a little hard and uncomfortable, I could deal. Minutes later I could not deal. Not one bit. I reached down and felt around... maybe a rock was stuck somewhere on my wooden chair? Yeah right. More like the security tag from Cache. No I did not steal this dress, but I probably looked like I had... not knowing anyone but Michael's family, Josh, Jenny and a few others... I'm sure they all were under the impression Michael's girlfriend was a red-handed thief. I was embarrassed for 2 minutes, then stifled my laughter as best I could (which may or may not have come about due to the deliciously strong Vodka Tonic I drank mere minutes earlier). I refused to let this plastic security tag rob me of the experience I was determined to have. I have yet to bring it back to Cache and request its' removal, its kind of grown on me... new fashion statement? :)