Where I am now, the devil does not wear Prada. She wears OshKosh.
The scene: The other day, while walking Beanie and her friend, Pants, who is in the second grade, home from ballet class.
The fashion faux pas: Across the street, a young woman, possibly a college student, walking in the other direction, is wearing... well, something. Kind of a shapeless swath of fabric - a tube dress?! - that brushes against the tops of her thighs. Otherwise, her legs are bare. She is, of course, talking on her phone.
The second grader, Pants, speaking apparently at the top of her lungs: Did you see that? Is that a dress?
Me, lowering my voice to "model" what I think would be so much less embarrassing: I think it is [a dress]. It is pretty short...
The first grader, Beanie, matching her friend's pitch and volume: I would never wear anything so short. Unless it was a shirt. Then I would need to wear pants with it.
The second grader, helpfully: Or leggings.
The first grader, agreeing: Or leggings.
The second grader: Or jeans that fitted.
Me: Skinny jeans?
The first grader, firmly: Leggings would be better.
There you have it: Fash-shun tips from a first and second grader.
Heee. "Pants."
ReplyDeleteAnd the wisdom from the third grader is that I ought to wear some make up and a skirt every now and again. It's like living with my mother.
Adrienne? Would it kill ya?
ReplyDelete