Fashion Police

Okay, I admit it, sometimes I am a hideously awful bitch. I gossip and talk about other people behind their backs...but only when I don't know them! So last week I was sitting in the dentist's office waiting for Spencer, and I saw the most fascinating thing. I mean, I was MESMERIZED. Here is the rundown, starting from the feet:

*Black Reebok tennis shoes, circa 1984
*Ankle socks with little bow-tied teddy bears all over them
*Jeans (too short, of course), the kind with no pockets in front or back and an elastic waistband ("stretch")
*(this is the BEST) a concert t-shirt, red, with MEATLOAF 2002 in huge black letters
*(wait, maybe THIS is the best) a dog collar, not the punk kind but the nylon kind, with a bone-shaped real dog tag hanging from it (not a military dog tag, either)
*Metal barrettes holding back the ponytail hair escapees

I was trying really hard not to let her see me stare. I know -- I just KNOW -- that dog tag is from her beloved little Fluffy, who died tragically while choking on a pair of her underwear, no doubt.

When her man came out from the examining room, I was both pleasurably horrified and slightly queasy upon noting that he was sporting a most killer mullet and wore black stone-washed jeans.