Saturday, December 4, 2010

237. Dressed To The Eights

Raise your hand if you’re tired of seeing people wear jeans to weddings, shorts to funerals, sweats to job interviews, and pajama pants to Starbucks. I mean, come on. Really. Why can’t they at least throw on a pair of khakis for a wedding? Is it that hard? I understand that These Comfy People feel better if they are wearing something, well, “slouchy” for lack of a better word, but……………you don’t see ME grocery shopping in my underwear.

When did society spiral this far out of control? When did the memo go out: “Oh, hey, everyone, guess what? Suits are too restrictive. Ironing is passé. Who has time to go to the dry cleaners? Tell ya what,” (apparently, Memo Writer is sort of casual with her grammar, too), “from now on, EVERY day is Casual Friday, including Christmas. Enjoy!”

I did not get that memo. Neither did anyone I work with at the high-end kitchen store. No. We actually take pride in our appearance and dress neatly for (wait for it…..) work. Yep. Wanna look good for work, what a concept!

Now, I know you think I’m making it up about the “jeans at wedding” thing, but I assure you I am not. Jeans. At. Weddings. And (unfortunately), I’m not talking about a Sunday barbecue wedding or an impromptu elopement on the beach. No. I mean full-blown, Catholic church wedding, 250 guests. Jeans! (And of course, if they are dressed this way for what should be a formal affair, that begs the question: what kind of gift did they bring for the lucky couple? a 6-pack of beer? a velvet Elvis painting? a left-over gum wrapper?)

Do they not realize how disrespectful their choice of attire is? They are sending a subliminal message that they just don’t care about the event or the person being honored.

I’m not saying they have to dust off the tiara and fluff out the taffeta skirt, but how about a simple black dress? And give the tennis shoes the day off? Maybe even brush the hair?

I have had enough of These Comfy People. Call it jealousy (hey, if I can’t wear gray sweats to a party, then neither can you), call it self-righteousness, call it me wanting to dictate my standards to the world (that sounds about right). I've decided to write a special letter to These Comfy People, to wake them from their happy slouchy trance. Here goes:

“Dear These Comfy People,

It has come to my attention that you think it is okay to ‘dress down’ for all occasions. It’s not.

If you are not wearing a pretty dress to a sit-down wedding or a meet & greet at the White House, then when ARE you wearing a pretty dress? Get the pretty dress out! (I know it’s in your closet.) Please wear it.  You’ll look better, and, as a happy little side effect, you'll feel better about yourself, and (surprise!) people will treat you better.

It’s the damn truth. Now, go online and buy some black pants, and don’t let me catch you at great-aunt Harriet’s funeral in pajamas (I don’t care if they were your ‘dressy’ pajamas).

From now on, dress to the nines. Dressing to the eights just doesn’t cut it anymore.

Your Fashion Maven,

(“Messenger Of Valentino”)


  1. wow, MOV, I didn't know that you had kidnapped my mother and forced her to write your blog! ;)

    (I'm in complete agreement ... after all, I AM my mom's daughter. I routinely get pissed off when I manage to shower AND dress, and I get seated next to some pig wearing a dirty Tshirt and a baseball cap. Ooooh, don't get me started on the baseball caps at the dinner table issue ...

  2. oooh, baseball hats...... wow, that is a whole 'nother blog for another day!!!!!!!!!!


  3. Thank you for bringing this to the attention of the millions of people who read your blog everyday!!! I think this is a great way to get the word out to the masses... I mean just yesterday at the Galleria, there was this woman wearing black and white checkered pajama pants with her greasy hair all unwashed and hanging from a scrunchy!!! If she goes like this to the Galleria I do not even want to imagine what she wears to Tysons...

  4. In Wales, U.K., on a grocery store window: 'Please don't wear pajamas & robes in here'.

    At our local bagel shop I did a double take at the woman wearing "sheepy time" pink flannel 'jamies', tee shirt and fluffy bedroom slippers.

    Hmmmmmm . . .



When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)