Gramsci looked up calmly. "They're American," he shrugged.
The Cow paused. Accessories. Commodities. The Macdonalds lifestyle. But she suspected it was more than that. That for at least some of these women, the rush they got from squeezing into a new pair of Gap jeans was better than what their lover could deliver. Which might have had something to do with the skill of their lovers, too. This was, after all, an American sample; most of the lovers were no doubt American, too.
But still, it remained terminally depressing. "Clothes make them feel sexier than their boyfriends?"
Gramsci chuckled. "Obesity has reached epidemic proportions in America!" he reminded the Cow. "Clothes let you cover up, hide and distract. Sex, well, that typically happens in a state of at least partial undress. It's pretty - well, exposing!"
The Cow sighed. Those women hung on to their favourite clothes for twelve and a half years, on average. She wondered how much of that still fitted.
"David Beckham is going to feel so at home in LA," she sighed.