Today I saw this married couple probably in their late 40s. The man was wearing this beige sweat-suit, you know, the kind with the elastic ankles?
And I thought to myself, 'I can't believe she's letting him wear that...'
And then I looked at her. And she was wearing khaki pants and a beige shirt.
Ick.
It made me think of this one time I saw a lady in head-to-toe beige (and it might be in one of my old FMOTW posts), and I got that Prodigy song, "Firestarter" in my head. Only, instead of "Psycho-somatic-addict-insane!" I was singing "Mono-chromatic-addict-insane!"
Okay, I know monochromatic is slimming, but I am pretty sure that does not apply to light colors. I don't want to look like I'm dressed in a suit made of my skin (a.k.a.: naked).
Also, back to my thought about her letting him wear that, I am totally of the belief that the man obeys the woman when it comes to fashion. I am pretty sure in my own, imaginary marriage, that is how it will play out. In fact, right now I place a moratorium* on my future man's fashion rights. Sorry, dude.
*I love that word 'moratorium,' don't you? I have used it like five times today. Radical.
1 comment:
Good luck with trying to control anything your future husband does in marriage. It certainly doesn't happen in mine! And you probably would be grossed out by my husband's wardrobe of In-N-Out t-shirts, holey jeans, and baseball caps. What is it with some grown men and baseball caps anyway? It drives me nuts, but I gotta love him anyway, I guess...after all, I did say yes (something he reminds me of every time I say anything about his clothes).
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