What the fuck happened to Delia's?

Some of you may remember this trendy little catalog that came out every few months back in the '90s. I loved turning the pages of that catalog and imagining all the outfits I'd buy if I had my own money. I imagined how adorable things would look on me if only I had a different shape - a shape more like the girls' depicted in the magazine. I loved and loathed that catalog. It was Delia's. It influenced my teenage sphere. 

Back then, everything was floral or had a rainbow pinstripe down the side of it. Bright colors screamed I'm adorable, you should pay attention! Never was there lack for platform sneakers and fuzzy backpacks were the rage. I'm half surprised that shipments weren't sent out with courtesy Ring-Pop or candy necklaces. Maybe they were? I just don't recall because I ate mine with such enthusiasm; not realizing they were meant to be an accessory, not an appetizer. 

I always wanted to be a Delia's girl. The only thing standing in my way was this meddlesome excess 40lbs and shitty disposition. If I could drop some weight and maybe smile a little, I might have a shot. So, you know, basically be someone else. 

I don't know what got me thinking of this shit-tastic catalog again recently. Maybe I was lamenting the loss of my youth and how I squandered it hiding from imaginary boogiemen when the real destroyer of hopes and dreams was always me. [That's not too heavy for a blog is it?] 

Perhaps I was melancholy about the state of my skin-suit. However diligently I workout, eat well and stay focused on my mental health, my body tells the story of a woman tied to the back of a pick-up truck and drug a hundred miles across rough terrain. Clearly, rainbow pinstripe pants and a furry backpack will ease this malaise. 

For shits and giggles, I went to what I thought was Delia's website. Why not make matters worse by revisiting my youth and all the clothing that still isn't appropriate for me? This time by both age appropriateness as well as size constraints. It's bad enough that I wear Adidas track pants and off-the-shoulder sweatshirts [that's not a typo] like a forlorn Spice Girl, now I'm lurking through a publication that targets 20-something women like I have a snowball's chance in hell. I've become the desperate, recently divorced woman at the hors-d'oeuvres table with just one more question for the guy that would clearly prefer to be literally anywhere else.

Well, kids, turns out Delia died and took with her all her trendy outfits and accessories. Figuratively died, not literal. As it turns out, the company went bankrupt back in, oh - I don't give a fuck when - read about it yourself.  

https://www.businessinsider.com/delias-relaunches-amid-90s-fashion-craze-2018-11

What I did find most interesting was that some other jackwads' bought the company up and are re-branding the bitch. It's so great! I can continue to torture myself with unattainable ideals and unrealistic expectations. Why can't I wear a size 0, have multicolored hair, pouty lips and own something called a Glam Goddes Chain Skirt? That's right because I'm 39 and eat butter for dessert and have no fucking intention of changing that shit-ass behavior. 

The new Delia's is something called Dolls Kill. Let me tell you, it's some fucked up shit. This is supposed to be a remake of the innocent '90s fashion trend that was all hair braids and lip gloss. This tangled mess is Hot Topic [but, like '90s goth Hot Topic] meets every little girl with Daddy issues and a smattering of I did too much Molly at the rave. 

You can shop by Doll, if you're too lazy to contrive an outfit on your own, [I rather like this option] or you can pick out your individual elements. I'm a fan of the Knuck If Ya Buck Fringe Set and Clear The Way Vinyl Set. I've already placed my order; don't want them to run out of my size. I'm sure after this blog an influx of 40 yr old women will be nailed to their computers frantically placing orders for vinyl pants and mesh tops with nipple pasties. 

Well, at least you all know what I want for Christmas.