It's Wednesday, and that means
Project Runway, and
that means I'm going to blog about my closet. (Fascinating, right?) Likes, dislikes, and stuff that should have gone to the Goodwill long ago.
Like: White Shoes. I've got two pairs of these — Chucks and Pumas — and I just love them to death. And I don't mean wore-out, dingy, used-to-be-white-but-pretty-much-grey-now; we're talking gleaming bright shiny
white. Yeah, I get a ton of flack for wearing them — "Is it Labor Day in Del Boca Vista?" people ask me — but I'm not fazed. There's just something so dandy and fun about my pearly kicks that you in your navy blue 'Roos just don't get.
Dislike: Wide T-Shirts. Band shirts are notorious for this. You know what I'm talking about. Wear them once and they shrink lengthwise as much as they stretch widthwise, leaving me with a soft, billowy, micromini Yo La Tengo burka that shows off nicely my PBR-manicured Grover belly.
Like: Scarves! Long, short, tassled, argyle, striped, solid, wool, cashmere... I've got more scarves than stretched-out concert tees — which is saying something.
Dislike: On-Seam Pockets. When I sit down, my keys slide out between the couch cushions and these pockets flare like gills on a trophy largemouth bass. Worse, I've got a little Eurotrash track jacket with on-seams pockets, and it's nearly impossible to jam my hands in my pockets and slouch like I love to do without looking like I have scoliosis of the soul.
Goodwill: Ralph Lauren Suit. Can anyone tell me why I own this suit? Taupe, pleated pants with cuffs,
on-seam pockets, and the widest shoulders you've ever seen not dancing next to Tina Weymouth. I bought it at Dillards nine years ago if that helps give you a style locus. The only way this suit could be more hideous is if it were double-breasted, although there's enough material here that it might as well be.
You know how you have that one outfit that makes you feel all Jean Paul Belmondo, like you could jack a car, win an overmatched fistfight, and get the girl with equal aplomb? Well, putting on this suit is like getting into a fistfight with Taste and Taste whupped yer ass and is now parading you around your high school on a pink lace leash.
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P.S., since fashion segues so well into sports: RIP Sean Taylor. Holmes was on my short list of cats (Brian Dawkins, Ed Reed, Chuck Cecil are others) who I was hoping beyond hope to see blow up Tom Brady real good just once before I die. Can you imagine Sean Taylor coming on a blindside blitz and earholing that pretty boy? Brady on the ground, twisted and twitching... Taylor over him preening all sexy emu-style... Few things would be sweeter.
