Tag Archives: Huarache sandals

He smells so clean, like Jade East cologne and freshly starched shirts. We’re going steady I guess. (He never asked me, or gave me a St. Christopher)

February 29, 1964, Saturday, Howard acted like he loved me. I’m not such a prude anymore. Bitchin night. Went to the beach. Howard wasn’t there. It was so windy I almost got blown in the water. Found out Howard really … Continue reading

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