Fashion is a Cruel Mistress

Mr. Sweetie and I were headed somewhere after church last week, and had to stop for some gas. In front of us at another pump was an Asian woman in what had to be a red Corvette. She was dressed up in a black suit with knee length gauchos and some really rocking black and white pumps.

As an avid fan of Go Fug Yourself, I was trying to imagine what Jessica and Heather would say about this outfit. I imagined they would be as dismayed at the return of gaucho pants as I am, but would heartily endorse the shoes as cute, if a bit too white to wear with the dark suit.

So there I was, having an imaginary conversation with my invisible internet friends, when the woman turned around. She was wearing her suit jacket over...

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

No, I lie. There was a shoestring running between the sides of the jacket, presumably to keep the whole thing from flying open in the spring breeze.

It was an outfit that you might expect Mariah Carey to wear at an awards show, to assure that her presence was noticed. Not what you usually see in Lutheran Land on a Sunday morning, where our breasts stay inside from the cold. I can only imagine the discomfort of wearing a shoulder belt.