My grocery store attracts a boring, mostly nondescript crowd. Still a diverse collection of shoppers but not so much so that anyone will start a website about them. I include myself in that boring, nondescript bunch and don’t mean it as an insult so much as a way to set the scene for you.
I notice clothes. I write about clothes. I feel it’s important to get dressed on purpose, whether you are going to work or the grocery store or the gym. So it was hard for me to ignore the woman in her mid-30s wearing a Winnie-the-Pooh dress.
I will now list when it is OK to wear a pale yellow, floral print, barely knee length dress with a Winnie-the-Pooh patch on the chest:
2. When you are a newborn and you spit up on your clothes and you must resort to the emergency outfit in the bottom of the diaper bag
But this woman somehow slipped through the cracks. She was unaware of these rules. I do not know this woman, but I feel responsible for her and her mishap. All I can do at this point is get this conversation started:
Friends don’t let friends wear Pooh.
I hope this woman’s friends are able to reach out to her on this issue before she has a chance to wear that dress again. Or her mom. She might still live with her mom. But I’m sure it’s mutually beneficial – they keep each other company and watch NCIS together (“Isn’t that Mark Harmon a cutie?” they say to each other every episode.)
Is NCIS the Mark Harmon show? I don’t watch it. I don’t know. I remember when he was on St. Elsewhere, though. Because I’m old. Old enough to know that even when it was OK to wear Pooh on your clothes it wasn’t really OK. And now? It is really not OK.