The problem was, periodically he’d say things like “I think you should wear more of this kind of thing,” and then pull out something that is so NOT my style in the least and best suited for Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, or maybe even Shania Twain. In short, my husband has what I call bad taste. There's no way I'd EVER let him dress me. I'd look like the worst Thai hooker this side of Bangkok.
And not in a good way.
Now look. I’m a mom, but I don’t wear mom jeans. I don’t wear my hair in jaw clips THAT often, and I don’t spend my days in sweatpants. I'm not the fashiony type, but periodically I do dress up, and while I'm pretty sure no one would ask me who my stylist is, I can put an outfit together.
Actually, that very day I was decked out in this outfit, and I looked GOOD:
My husband was suggesting the following, because as everyone knows, athletic shoes and visors go well with every pseudo-Hooters outfit.
And finally, what wardrobe would be complete without a spandex dress? It screams church dinners.
Although really this last selection might have too much fabric to it. That was one of the complaints that he had with my general attire.
Maybe I'll move to a nudist colony. After all, you can't wear less fabric than none at all.