Wear whatever you want to wear. It’s Sunday. It’s almost not quite the weekend anymore, it’s almost Smonday, it’s the feeling when Sunday, slowly, goes into Monday and, before this last one goes into you, you be whatever you want to be and wear exactly what you want. Everyday. But today is well, you know, it’s no better day than today. Sunday feels like this.
Put your hands up in the air like you just don’t care. Not in the Uh, I’m so tipsy right now, I feel like putting my hands on my head and spin around like Kate does below and uh, uh some more, but in the Oh jees, this is it and you not only rest your hands on the head as Charlotte does above, but you, also, throw your feet in front of you, move your hips as if the hips don’t belong to you and shake your head, hair, whatever, exactly like Kate here does. Oh, you don’t? Everybody does. On Sunday.
This could, totally, be you. Who are you?
Everything is black and white today, see? Maybe it’s just the weather. It’s always the weather.