Well, I have to say that although I don’t dress ready for my close-up in STAR magazine, I am aware of the trends.
Though I don’t dress what would be classified as “nice,” I’m not stuck in another era either.Ã‚Â I just don’t spend the money among other reasons.
Now having just claimed not to dress out of another era, I admit that yesterday I did sport an element from the eighties.
That’s right.Ã‚Â The inside out sweatshirt.
I wore it the other day, not even questioning that this meant nothing other than…I don’t even know what.Ã‚Â It’s as though that fashion choice is lodged in the most accessible part of brain rendering the wearing of it perfectly obvious.
Apparently not to the 9 year old neighbor girl.
“Mrs. Shoop, do you have your sweatshirt on inside out?“Ã‚Â Michelle’s face scrunched into disbelief and horror.
“Uh, yeah.”Ã‚Â I chuckled a little at the thought she wasn’t aware of the worn out fashion trend.Ã‚Â I was only slightly red-faced that I hadn’t thought anything of it.Ã‚Â I mean, if I happened across a swingy, black and pink striped miniskirt, matching tights and leg-warmers, I wouldn’t accidentally tumble back into the eighties and don the outfit without a care.
It wasn’t until late last night that further consequences of the poor fashion choice could be upon me.
Michelle:Ã‚Â “Mom, Mrs. Shoop had her sweatshirt on inside out.”
Michelle’s mom: “Was sheÃ‚Â normal?Ã‚Â Slurring her words?Ã‚Â Stumbling about?”
Michelle:Ã‚Â “No, it was just there, onÃ‚Â inside out.”
Michelle’sÃ‚Â mom to Michelle’s dadÃ‚Â “I knew those Shoops wereÃ‚Â up toÃ‚Â something.”
Hopefully Michelle’s dad would haveÃ‚Â an ephiphany and realize it was simply a reappearance of an old comfortable trend and not aÃ‚Â measure of drug/alcohol intake…
Yeah, I’m betting he doesn’t come up with that one.Ã‚Â