When I was seven years old, I wanted to be Gwen Stefani. Tragic Kingdom had just been released, and “Don’t Speak” was the song that played on pretty much every radio station, all of the time, everywhere. It was the time when grunge, flannel, and an underwear-clad Kate Moss were most cool, but of course, not so much to a first grader. In comparison to the waifish figured women and homeless-looking men that I saw on television, Gwen was, to put it bluntly, smokin’ hot. She rocked vintage-style...
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