Dresses made out of trash bags.
Jumpsuits that resemble prison attire.
Why do I always feel like I’m missing something?
Why would anyone want to parade around in attire that gives the disturbing impression of having just kicked Big Bird’s ass and then using his fashionable feathers to flaunt their victory?
I simply don’t get the world of fashion.
And not the good kind of weird, either.
Haven’t these designers ever heard of yoga pants?
Or lounge pants?
Or better yet, pjs?
If not, they’re totally missing out.
Comfort should never be underestimated.
Who is all this eccentric stuff designed for, anyway?
Surely not most human beings?
Erma Bombeck said it best:
“Sometimes I can’t figure designers out. It’s as if they flunked human anatomy.”
This stuff possibly can’t be meant for real life.
I don’t know.
Maybe I don’t get out enough.
Or maybe I’m not normal.
And I’m perfectly okay with that.
But come on.
Who wears this stuff?
It’s like fashion from another planet.
Ooh, maybe that’s what this is!
Garbage can lids for hats.
Rompers made from mops.
Boots that are furrier than a wooly mammoth.
Talk about statement pieces.
And celebrities only perpetuate the madness.
How about Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress?
Or Bjork’s weird swan dress?
Or Katy Perry’s memorable carousel dress?
Somebody intentionally created these monstrosities.
Some of those outfits would result in common folk getting thrown in the slammer for indecent exposure.
Especially with a scarcely concealing dress made out of meat, for heaven’s sake.
They can get away with strutting down through town wearing nothing more than a sheer scarf as a top and car mats for a skirt.
Using one’s body as a kooky canvas like that…
Well, Picasso would simply be horrified.
But the madness doesn’t stop there.
When I go shopping for clothes, it gets overwhelming sometimes.
Is that garment supposed to be a tube top or a dress?
Or is it intended to be worn as a cape?
And that freakish in-between-fingers ring…
Is it meant to be a weapon?
All I know is somebody’s gonna get hurt.
And it’s usually me.
Especially when sadistic curiosity gets the better of me and I take a questionable garment into the dressing room.
Which appendage is supposed to go through which strap?
Surely this can’t possibly be a dress if it doesn’t even begin to cover my butt…?
Why does this shirt seem to have three arm holes?
I truly don’t want to end up in ER after accidentally knocking myself out by trying to cram my unsuspecting head into a narrow little arm hole.
But I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve managed to clobber my own face while trying on some sort of whimsical attire.
Simplicity is the key for me.
I can live without Star Trek inspired looks.
Or leopard print from head to toe.
Or aluminum foil onesies.
These concepts are certainly costume party worthy, if nothing else.
And not only are these crazy pieces…well, crazy, they’re insanely expensive.
If you spend $2,000 on a hideous fringe-covered, barf-green purse- I mean handbag– will you actually have anything left to put in it?
It might be nice to have money left over to do other things.
And maybe even pay the mortgage.
Not to be a slave to the money-draining, ever-changing world of fashion.
I can’t do high maintenance.
It’s too exhausting.
And that level of quirkiness is far too much.
Even for me.
Some people spend ten dollars on clothing and look like a million bucks.
Some people spend a million bucks and look like disheveled cow-wrangling floozies.
It’s all in how you wear it.
So be true to yourself and wear whatever makes you feel like a million bucks.
Especially if you’ve actually spent a million bucks.
~Happy Friday, friends! Clearly, fashion is relative. Just ask that poor doggie in the picture. Have a great weekend!~