Close only counts in…
Bob has a habit of getting involved whenever the girls and I are having a fashion discussion. And it never goes well for him. Today we all went out to Panera Bread and there was a shoe store next door. “OOOHH, I need sneakers” Jill said. Now, I know that this is her way of getting me into the store because if she said let’s go check out the 6 inch heel sandals I would have said no. She is the youngest of three girls, she knows how to work the system. So in we go, we get the sneakers and then of course comes the high heel sandal question. “Please can I have them, they are so pretty, please, please please”. I take one look at the shoes and have no problem saying a resounding “NO”. They look like hooker shoes. I tell her they look like hooker shoes and get insults hurled at me about being old fashioned, having no fashion sense and being fashion-less. I am OK with this. I wear black pants, a black cashmere sweater and a white T shirt most days. I am not a very snazzy dresser but I have never been confused with a prostitute, perhaps a nun or someone Amish but never a hooker. We leave the store because Barbi has arrived to join us for lunch and I think I have dodged the bullet. We order our food and I look over at Jill and the tears are streaming down her face. “AHHH, what is wrong” I ask, knowing full well that I am about to get an earful of drama. “You treat me like a five year old, you don’t know what kids my age (14) wear because you never do anything with me plus, I lost my boyfriend to a girl who has shoes like that, I lost my boyfriend because I have a mother who won’t let her daughter wear anything from this century, you treat me like a baby”. This is one giant run on sentence punctuated by tears and snot running down her face. Barbi is brought into the fray as Jill asks her “you would let me buy shoes that all the girls wear wouldn’t you? Even if you didn’t like them for yourself because you a good mother, aren’t you?”. Barbi has two boys, what does she know about teenage girls and shoes. She does have the good sense to say “I have to see them first”. Becca chimes in that after lunch we can all go to see them and make up our collective minds. Bob is surprisingly and appropriately quite. We finish up lunch and start to make our way to the shoe store when Bob asks ” Where are we going?” Barbi replies ” We are going to look at Jill’s shoes. You know, the whore’s shoes”. He stands there completely confused. You can see the little wheels spinning in his head. And instead of just saying ok, Bob gets involved in a fashion question. “I didn’t know that they sold horse shoes at Famous Footwear. When did they start selling sporting goods?”
Be quiet Bob. For god’s sake, be quiet and just follow us around, say nothing and have your credit card ready. Please, for the sake of our marriage, our children’s self esteem and the respect of our friends say nothing about fashion out loud to anyone, ever again.
PS. We didn’t get the whore’s shoes, Barbi convinced her they were too fancy for jeans. I owe you one Barbi, and I’ll even throw in a badminton set!