Forget Paris

Yesterday, the lovely and talented Chanadaler brought this to my attention.

Click on the link. Now. I'll wait. No, really.

What. The. Fuck.

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Is that a suit with pleated hot pants!?

There are so many problems with that I do not know where to start. Actually I do. Pleated and cuffed short shorts. Worn in a professional setting. With a suit jacket with short and puffy sleeves. And heels. Again. A suit with hot pants.

If some one shows up in my office wearing that shit I am pouring beer in her weave. It looks like unholy alliance of Daisy Duke and Jacqueline Kennedy. It is not cute, flattery or appropriate for any occasion that a normal would ever attend.

Banana, why hath thou forsaken me? I count on you for flattering and classic styles to wear to work. I know that I can always walk into your stores and find something that will fit me and work for my life. Yes, you have flirted with some unfortunate styles. Yes, you carry wear more glitter than I am confortable with. Yes, every season you use some ugly ugly colors that I do not understand. But still. I can always find something that will look great on my within your walls.

This is an intervention. Put down the crack pipe. Back away slowly. And think about what you have done. You are totally grounded. And if there was a tough-love camp for clothing retailers they would be on the bus right now, young man.

Banana, quit trying to dress Paris Hilton. Don't think I didn't notice that she is the only skank that could imagine a place to wear that trash.