I don`t claim to be a fashion expert of any kind…I mean, sure, I *know* Susan Wagner and she *may* have told me that she liked one of my dresses at BlogHer…but, for the most part, I`m a simple kind of girl. I wear things that flatter my wee body and clothing that avoids the dreaded muffin-top and hides my belly pooch. I wear a lot of clean lines and good jeans and cotton shirts that don`t need ironing. I mean, sure, I wasn`t playing my a-game at the zoo this weekend…
Yes, folks, those ARE shorts. (and, why yes, while you are asking, those ARE also my pasty white legs that have absolutely no business seeing the light of day)(also, the biggest bag in the history of mankind, but it DID hold my camera and three water bottles and snacks for my always hungry and always thirsty children)
But I do know a fashion travesty when I see one.
I mean, we live in a day and age when Orangutans can use computers.
yes. COMPUTERS.
and yet, there are still people who do this…
Matching Ed Hardy shirts.
let that soak in for just a minute.
Matching Ed Hardy shirts.
