Is That What You're Wearing?

These are possibly my least favorite words that occasionally come out of my husband's mouth. It's a close race between that and, "I just threw in a load of laundry." Which usually means some article of Dry Clean Only finery has gone to meet its fate.

But the "Is that what you're wearing?" question is especially cutting when it involves something I've knit myself. For example this cabled newsboy cap from Stitch 'n Bitch Nation. Knit up with under a skein of Naturewool . It was a quick, fun knit. I loved the way it looked and then that dreaded question struck.

Sure we were on our way to a gathering at his workplace which requires me to be not so much a human being as a calling card/accessory. And sure his workplace is a convent and we were going to meet one of the apparitioners of Medjugorje, but I figured if anyone could appreciate a handknit Rasta hat, it's a fella who supposedly meets the Queen of Heaven for a chat every night.

There are certainly times when a little style intervention is called for. Like those leopard print pants I wore onstage at T.T.'s with my old band when my entertainment lawyer/manager told me I needed to be more "styled". (don't ever take fashion tips from your attorney, ok kids.) My drummer told me I looked great, but then one of his most prized possessions are his vintage breakaway tuxedo pants.

Or if I decided to leave the house looking like this I would understand if some kind soul suggested I buy a full length mirror and learn to use it. Unless of course I had some inner ear problem which upset my balance and I really needed all those big pom poms to act like bumpers.



Speaking of celebrity fashion missteps, I've been contemplating all those pictures of Jessica Simpson while waiting in line at the grocery store and I've been racking my brain trying to think of who she reminds me of. Suddenly last night as I was cleaning one of the childrens' rooms it hit me. Seriously, If you got My Little Pony some cosmetic dentistry and a little time in a spray-on tanning booth, Jessica Simpson would have a new stand in.

But I digress. So I resisted the urge to respond to the "Is that what you're wearing?" question with, "Ha! Ha! No. This was just a clever ruse to make you THINK this is what I'm wearing. In fact I have a much cooler ensemble hidden under this one, which I will reveal at the last possible moment." and instead cut him some slack for wanting to put his best foot forward at a new job and removed the hat. The things we do for love.

Exhibit A: I collect old magazines from the 1940s such as True Romance, Modern Romance, etc. While flipping through a copy of Modern Romance I found this add for Lysol Disinfectant.
I know the print's probably too small to read, but it's explaining to lonely housewives why their husbands are staying away. It's because they should be using Lysol Disinfectant for feminine hygiene of course. I almost fell off my chair when I saw this. Did women really do this? The advert assures me that, "More women should use Lysol regularly for intimate bodily daintiness." so I'm guessing at least a few did. And if you did this would it leave your nether regions smelling like a pine forest? And however it smelled would this then trigger some kind of Pavlovian response in your spouse everytime you mopped the floor? I picture all these germ free housewives being chased around the coffee table whenever they try to get a little light housekeeping done. Maybe the slight against my hat wasn't such a big deal after all.