May 21, 2004
They all wear nothing but Abercrombie. Highlights in their hair glint in the sunlight as they drive in their identical little red Mazda Miatas. They all wear loads of mascara; they all own heated eyelash curlers. They all listen to Dave Matthews and pretend to know about guitars. Car parts are status symbols. They all have the sort of stiffly overbearing parents who always seem to be out of town. Their fathers all play golf; their mothers all love soccer. Water bottles full of vodka, tennis uniforms perfectly pressed. The perfect Wheeling girls. They make me want to be sick.