Bad Fashion

I'm usually not one to throw fashion stones, seeing as my fashion house is pretty glassy. Well, it's more of a mud hut really. One of these days, I'm going to splurge and get myself a nice straw mat for the floor, maybe wallpaper the walls with some old newspapers, really fix up the place. And now I think I've taken this metaphor as far as I want to go with it.

Anywho, can't you guess, now I'm going to throw a fashion stone. A really big one. Because sometimes a fashion mistake is so big, so egregious, so frightening that it can't be ignored, even by someone who dresses like me.

Okay, this is going to take some imagination on your part, but I know you can do it.

First, picture a grown woman. A taller than average woman of average build who is over the age of thirty. She's wearing an ordinary blouse. So from the waist up she's looking pretty normal.

Now here come the scary parts. In your mind's eye, add a relatively short, fairly voluminous... prairie skirt. If you were alive in 1978, you're probably not having a problem visualizing this. For those of you who weren't alive yet, prairie skirts were all the rage in the late 1970's, inspired by "Little House on the Prairie." They're big flouncy skirts with lots of ruffled tiers and usually made out of some sort of fabric with little flowers all over it. I had a couple myself, but I was in junior high at the time, so I'm not holding it against myself. I'm standing up now and saying (and I think Michael Kors and all the other judges on Project Runway would agree with me) that very few women over the age of 25 should wear prairie skirts, in 1978 or 2008 or in any year in between. They are typically not flattering to the adult female form. They generally make everything look...well, much bigger. Prairie skirts are for little girls and teenagers who haven’t yet “blossomed” into their adult metabolisms. They are not for the office.

Even as offensive as the prairie skirt was to my fashion sensibilities, it could not, by itself, have prompted this little rant. No, to understand what pushed me over the edge, you must now move your mind's eye down the legs (Shut up, Stucco. I know you're about to say something lascivious.) to the ankle/foot area. Here we find a lovely pair of black mary jane's with 4 inch heels, making a taller than average person appear to be MUCH taller than average.

So you’re probably thinking, “Hmmm, you don’t see shoes like that with prairie skirts very often, do you?”

But wait! There’s more! The shoes are paired with LACEY WHITE ANKLE SOCKS. Yes, you heard me, lacey ankle socks. I didn't even know that lacey white ankle socks were available in adult sizes after the mid 1980’s, let alone that I would encounter a pair at the office.

I swear, I turned the corner and saw the whole "Laura Ingalls meets Cyndi Lauper" ensemble coming towards me, and nearly choked. I was completely speechless. I physically shuddered. People, it takes a lot to make me even notice clothing. I have a very high tolerance for bad fashion, but this made me want to gouge out my own eyes. What was she thinking?? Did she really put that outfit together, check it out in the mirror and deem it office-worthy? Really?

I handled the situation in my usual passive-aggressive way: avoiding eye contact, walking by as fast as possible, and then ridiculing the outfit on my blog. I didn't feel comfortable mentioning my issues with the sock/skirt/shoes combination to her, but I hereby give the entire planet permission to tackle me if I should appear outside my front door wearing anything remotely similar.

Really, just knock me down and take my shoes and socks. Just take them.