Hello, lover.

Dear BCBG,

Thank you for always being there for me. You have truly been the one consistent happiness in my life.

I remember when we had our first moment in college together. You were wedged between a Juicy tank and a hideous green Donna Karan halter at TJMaxx and I almost browsed
right past you. You were black and silky and mysterious and on sale. It was love at first sight.

Then again, at the Maz Azria store in Northbrook Court, shopping for a New Year's dress. I saw you in the window on a mannequin, swathed in a golden, glowing light. This time you were lavender and bubblegum pink, peppered with silvery sequins, in a soft jersey knit with a key hole halter strap. I whisked you off to the fitting room and we fell in love all over again.

Even during my hardest moments, like when I took a scissors to you the next New Year's, crying and cutting, I transformed you into something completely new and you stood by me. Making me look even better than a year ago in that Max Azria fitting room. You were with me during my own metamorphosis, urging me on, highlighting my great collarbone.

Almost always I run across you in the shoe section in a towering, sexy pink stiletto, with lace-like insets cut out on the sides. Or, in a casual tan and cream wedge, offering me a sensible but still fashionable alternative to high heels. You are more the perfect complement to me than any man could ever be.

And again, late last fall I found my fingers running over your heaven spun thread at Nordstrom Rack, in the form of a cream colored, off the shoulder, curve hugging cashmere sweater. With asymmetrical lines and sleeves that danced above my fingertips, you kept me warm and stylish through what seemed like the harshest of Chicago winters.

And now, you have fulfilled me yet again. Always consistent. Always even better than what I expect. You were waiting for me in the dress section of the BCBG Outlet, thirty percent off and screaming, "Wear me to your next wedding!" With your halter neck, deep V'ed empire waist, floor length and gorgeous navy color. We ambled off to the fitting room like old friends, not having seen each other in several months. Sigh. Another perfect fit.

Thank you BCBG. Thank you for making me feel beautiful in the midst of a lot of ugly clothes. Thank you for helping me make ex-boyfriends jealous and new boyfriends drool. Thank you for making my ass look good in jeans. Thank you for always showing up in a store window when you know I could use a friend.

Oh, and thank you Mastercard for making all of this possible.

Faithfully yours,
Megan