Upon waking today, I read that the Resident of the United States just issued sexist dress codes for “men” and “women,” and that “women” feel pressured to wear a skirt/dress. (I assume this is meant to make pussy-grabbing easier and more convenient.) I’m not exactly sure how he intends to determine who fits into which category and who gets the privilege of wearing pants (actually, I can’t imagine a genderqueer person being allowed to work there anyway). I actually want him to try to enforce this so that someone can sue the white house for gender discrimination.
So I’ve curled myself up with a mug of Earl Gray and Certainly, Possibly You, the second book in the Sucre Coeur series. It’s a much happier world. And all the skirts that get worn are done so with full consent.
Review to come in a couple days. Because I’m working. I swear I’m wearing a dress, even though I’m working. Just in case you felt threatened.