Calling all barlows, bisquits, and blushing violets!
Wanna shock the gimlets, bun dusters, and the crepe hangers? Wanna thrill your highjohn while you Charleston, black bottom, and shimmy to the whangdoodle at the egg harbor?
You’ve bobbed your hair, raised your hemline, strapped a flask to your stilt, and now it’s time to squander a little of your dapper’s hush money on a flapper ring today!
Zelda says, “Flapper rings are the kitten’s ankles, and that’s no applesauce!”
Listen to this Zelda tomato, all you dumb Doras. She’s a prom-trotter who knows her onions!