We have to talk about something.
It’s that photograph to your left. See?
Yeah, that one.
I want you to know I would never actually wear that outfit.
I realize my credibility is undercut here by the fact that there is a picture of me wearing it right there – a picture which I myself put up on the Internet.
What happened was – well, first imagine you haven’t slept more than three hours a night for – how old is W. there? – say, 18 months. So your judgment is impaired. Then, let’s just say you had a baby or something, and your clothes didn’t fit, and the only pants retail could offer you that did fit were made by Gloria Vanderbilt, so you have to swallow an enormous amount of your fashion pride just to make the purchase; it’s no surprise that you accidentally swallow a little too much and buy all the colors, even beige, a color you are on the record as categorically opposing.
Then one morning, in a stupor, you throw on the beige pants and a pastelly top and go to the zoo, and your good friend, say her name is Jodi, takes a really cute picture of you and your kid, and pfft! Years of fabulousness down the drain.
(I sleep now, just for the record. I’m much more vigilant now.)