I try my best to read it cover to cover, but often times lose steam around page 3, main news. (The news sleeps next to me every night. I'm well informed.)
I'm really glad I made it through the whole thing a few Sundays ago...or else I would have missed this gem by Stephanie Hayes of the St. Petersburg Times.
Somebody get this girl a Pulitzer...
Fashion cleanup in aisle 3, please!
By Stephanie Hayes, St. Petersburg Times
By Stephanie Hayes, St. Petersburg Times
The other night, I had a case of crankypantsitis. Students of science and medicine know there is one prescription: cookie dough, Diet Coke and DVD’s.
My guy and I hit Blockbuster, then a very nice Publix. Once inside, I trembled in fear. I witnessed people wearing the following items of, er, apparel:
- Four pairs pajama pants
- Three “muscle” shirts (six male armpits)
- One halter dress, exposing dingy frayed bra on verge of snapping to liberty
- Too many dirty flip-flops to comprehend
- One tube top, and therewith, zero bra
- One t-shirt reading, I kid you not, “Boone’s Farm Babe”
- One pair mesh basketball shorts paired with braided leather businessman loafers, as if to say, “Was too busy watching ‘West Wing’ to find proper pants, but dang, I really needed this Moose Tracks ice cream.”
- A partial nipple
When did the supermarket stop being a public place? Why does the pursuit of Pizza Rolls make reasonable folks dress like escapees from the Wacko Jacko Institute of Boudoir Wear? I know we’re tired. We work hard and pay taxes. We dash out last minute, because, WHO ATE ALL THE TOASTER STRUDEL?
I’m not suggesting evening gowns for the store, or even lipstick. But people still SEE you. It’s not a racquet-club steam room. For the love of all things holy, we’re dealing with open-air food here! THINK OF THE TOMATOES.
I implore you, fair nation. Take back clothes at the supermarket!
A vote for pants is a vote for change!
(Paid for by the National Coalition to Keep Pajamas in Bedrooms Inc.)
Amen.
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1 comment:
Well said, although it must be said that I do occasionally go to the grocery store in (dum DA dum dum) workout attire post-gym. In my kinda sorta defense, this is completely acceptable shopping garb back in my homeland.
I like the author's use of "crankypantsitis", which I suspect I suffer from as well. Wonder if there's a cure for the chronic case?
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