Gwen and I decided it was time to issue our own economic stimulus package, so we hit the shops yesterday. As Drew likes to say when we two head out with shopping on the agenda, “It’s a bad day to be a shoe.”
I finally caved and bought a pair of those black leggings that everyone one and their brother is wearing. Well, I guess everyone and their sister. Even in Chelsea I don’t see the fabu fellas rocking leggings…yet. Which reminds me, I just want to go on record and officially state that I am not down with men wearing capris. It looks just plain wrong. I hate to be the one to limit anybody, but I really need them to make up their minds – pants or shorts, dude. Man up. Oddly enough, I don’t have a problem with men in skirts. Figure that one out.
Anyway, back to my leggings. I feel so liberated with the purchase! I need fear no hemline ever again. I’ll be able to join in a pickup game of basketball or climb a nice sycamore tree if the situation presents itself…always major deterrents to wearing skirts and dresses. You really never know when you might need to hike that bad boy above your waist for extra mobility.
I was so heady with the purchase, I tried them on with every subsequent skirt and dress that accompanied me into the dressing rooms over the course of the day. Before I pulled anything over my head, I first pulled those bad boys up over my booty. It quickly descended into a realm or ridiculousness. Somehow at one particularly horrifying moment, I ended up in my black leggings, a three tiered acid-washed denim skirt, a neon pink t-shirt, and a black suit vest. With a blond bob, a well placed scrunchy and some Electric Youth perfume, I could have passed for Debbie Gibson herself.
After performing my own personal cover of “Shake Your Love” in front of the tri-fold mirrors, I managed to escape having only purchased the vest. I know, what a douche…but it was only ten smackeroos. I can hardly wait for Halloween this year! Maybe I can talk Gwen into going as Tiffany and we can have a dance off in a Jersey mall.