I identify as a Lemon. Breeland, that is. Completely neurotic, with a penchant for pastels, pearls and pin curls, I pursue perfection. I generally fall short, literally on my face, but I’m working on that.
Perhaps you are more of a Zoey. An emotionally challenged doctor genius, with a shorty short affliction.
I want to live in Bluebell, where the willows gently weep and council is presided by a hunky retired NFL linebacker. I want my affections to be fought over by a charming lawyer and a bad boy bartender. I want to be chief memory matron perched on a float in a whimsical street parade.
But for now, I’ll satisfy my Dixie craving with a dose of southern wardrobe charm.