An Open Letter to Hoodie Allen: Can The Ladies of Colorado Have Our Bras Back

Dear Mr. Allen,

My name is Shelby, and last night was the first time I saw you in concert because I'm actually a pretty big G-Eazy fan, but that's beside the point right now.

I'm sure you thought you were in for a traditional performance at the Ogden Theatre; the usual in between-song banter mixed in with some 'mile high' quips. (Because let me tell you, as an avid concertgoer, weed and altitude jokes... they never get old. Just kidding, they do.) Little did you expect, though, to leave at the end of the night looking like a Victoria's Secret sale rack; a bevy of bralettes, a full-on display of demi cups, push-ups and underwire.

Mr. Allen, I'm writing you on behalf of all the ladies who were at your show last night to say:

Can we have our bras back?

I think we got a little carried away. We're all about #freeingthenipple, but let me be real with you when I say bras are... a little pricey, so we're ultimately looking at a monetary loss. On top of that, it's still a few sleeps until summer here, and we're going to need our chest warmers back -- this is Colorado.

Hoodie, we didn't just part ways with an undergarment last night; we lost our cellphone holders, our mobile tissue dispensers and hidden snack baskets.

I also went for a jog this morning, and let's just say I can tell who was at the Hoodie show last night.

Anyway, just shoot me a personal message and I'm sure we can sort things out.

While I'm here, I should probably apologize on behalf of Denver last night. We really rocked the boat, didn't we?

Also, two more things, Hoodie Allen. My friend Madi still wants to date you and I think you're way cooler than G-Eazy now.

Yours truly,

Shelby

P.S. I really hope you consider Madi.