This store on South Street in Center City sells binders.
They are cheaper than many online.
You are able to try them on.
The store usually has a decent stock.
Minors are allowed in without question. (The sexual things are upstairs.)
If you are uncomfortable coming to try on a binder during normal hours, you can call and they will work with you to open early or stay open later. It’s usually pretty empty during the middle of the day, though.
They also sell packers.
I’m not sure if they have any different locations, but it is possible that they do. Also, they might have some things that could be useful to trans women.
I feel like I should clarify because of the amount of messages that I get saying ‘omg in your description its says that you love South Park! so cool!’ I don’t love South Park. I live in South Park. South Park, PA. it’s a real place. I don’t watch South Park. I live it.
I can honestly say I'm glad to live in a small town where people ride quads on the main road to dollar general and we can blast country music you can hear from the road and no one cares. Where there's only a subway and there's only one gas station. I'm proud to say I'm from a small town.
Everybody who’s voting Hilary (because God forbid the nuclear cheeto be elected to that office) needs to get some yard signs and put them up.
Like, I live in South Central PA, near Harrisburg; not a rural area. Every third or fourth house has Trump signs. I’ve only seen 3–three–democratic party signs of any variety. Now, FiveThirtyEight predicts at least an 85% chance that Pennsylvania will vote blue. We’re not really even a swing state this year. But going down the street, you wouldn’t know it.
All this makes Trump supporters bolder and gives them an echo chamber for their hate, which is dangerous, even if they aren’t going to win, and it severely demoralizes anyone who’s actually a decent person. I’m scared to go to the polls, y’all. I’m white, and I’m still scared I don’t look WASP-y enough to be left alone. I’ll still go, because hey if I’m dead at least I won’t have to pay my student loans, but I’m legitly scared.
So yeah, put out some goddamn yard signs. Show the bigots they’re outnumbered. While you’re at it, get a big sharpie or some spray paint and vandalize the Trump signs, if you like living dangerously. If you have the budget for it, crack some eggs and bury them in their gardens, if you’re not downwind. Just don’t be one of the dozens of houses with empty lawns that I walk by and wonder if the owners are even voting at all.
Strange in look and sound, foreign in nature, yet so fitting for our experience here in Eastern PA. Felsenmeer is a German word meaning ‘sea of rocks.’ We use it in science to describe large fields of angularly shaped boulders.
As a lover of geology, I found it to be an endearing and fitting word to describe the terrain we have begun encountering since leaving South-Central PA. As a hiker, however, this word now sends chills down my spine.
New hikers starting in Georgia have three months before they reach Pennsylvania, but begin hearing tales of its painful rocks within days of their start. This notoriety does not necessarily come from impressive rock outcroppings or views of Pennsylvania’s uniquely folded mountains, but rather from the seemingly endless fields of boulders that the trail continually encounters.
Hikers who have been breaking in their feet for months still curse this part of the trail as the rocks are relentless on the soles of your feet and the shoes they’re in. Stumbles and missteps come easily in these parts and as you’ve seen in previous posts, snakes frequent these areas as well looking for the heat of a toasty rock face. The trail can become difficult to follow in these areas because it all looks the same. The path is easy to loose, when you’re lucky, the rocks are painted with white blazes, as seen in the background of Seth’s picture. Many thru hikers wear out an entire pair of shoes on this section of trail alone. Even I can admit, the section can be tough on both feet and occasionally morale.
From a geologic perspective, however, these rocks are pretty phenomenal. If these rocks could talk, they’d have quite an impressive story to tell. Most of the underlying rock is between 320 million-440 million years old!
In this section we hike along ridge lines that parallel valleys nearly 1,000 feet below. We hike atop a mountain composed of many layers of rock deposited and changed over time. Exposed quartzite and conglomerate rocks are seen directly below our feet, both which are fairly resistant to weathering. Much of this is underlain by layers of bedrock below that can’t be seen, composed of sandstone, siltstone, shale, and even a little coal every now and again (more on that in another post). Down in the valleys below lie siltstone, shale, and limestone, which erode easily compared to the more resistant rock crowning the ridge line, thus creating Pennsylvania’s well known ridge and valley province. I hope to put together more pieces of Pennsylvania’s geologic puzzle in future posts, so please stay tuned for more.
But why is all this exposed bed rock now broken in such odd angular shapes and found in such massive amounts? This physical break up of rock occurred during a period of glaciation some 20,000 years ago. While much of the area was covered by large continental glaciers, the areas beyond this icy world were exposed to quite severe temperatures and weather. During this time, ridge-crests underwent many repetitive freeze-thaw cycles, causing ice wedging when water would saturate fractures in the rock face, then freeze and expand, breaking it further. Due to this periglacial freeze-thaw pattern, much of the ridge line is composed of broken, angular rock fragments and rock outcroppings.
And thus, my current home state of Pennsylvania, has been dubbed ‘rocksylvania’ by most hikers. Every time I find myself wanting to scream at a rock for tripping me, I have to stop and appreciate what all its gone through to wind up on this spot on the trail.