So. I wonder if in years to come people will ask "so where were you when Michael Jackson died??" personally, I was asleep.
However when I woke up and heard the news I can't say I was tooo phased at first. For one the word "paedophile. paedophile. paedophile" kept running around my head. And I'm not too fussed about dead paedophiles. I don't take kindly to their type roun ere.
Then I went to the shops, and I was walking around Supre looking at some really hideous golden leotards and matching slashy gold tights (truly the 80's are back) and the store had MJ playing on the speakers, and wtf?! my eyeballs actually misted up.
Jeez. I was not expecting that. But then again, I have to admit that I do love Michael Jackson's music. I could not get enough of the 'Dangerous' album when I was 12. It is a truly 'fully sic' album, which I think still kicks ass to this day.
So I cried. A tiny bit in Supre in the hideous spandex-wear section. Luckily if anyone saw me they would have hopefully assumed that I was all teared up inside from the prospect of seeing someone actually walking around in one of these stupid creations. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that the full impact of the event didn't hit me until that moment in the leotard section - but if it's good enough for Michael Jackson, then it's good enough for me.
I propose that the Gold Leotard becomes the signature clothing of mourning for this musical legend.
Basically if you ever needed a reason to wear a gold leotard. Now is your opportunity.