Yes, I know I look like something the cat left on the stoop. I am in sweats and a loose-fitting blouse and flip flops. It’s summer, I’m recovering from some painful surgery and pick another excuse.
You, on the other hand took the time to dress yourself in nice hiphugger jeans and a cute baby pink midriff-baring t-shirt with a cartoon character on it. Your shiny blond hair was pulled back nicely in a perky little ponytail. Your keds and baby pink anklets were also a nice touch that pulled the ensemble together well.
But, honey, YOU ARE AT LEAST 40. The clothes you had on were ideal for a sorority girl from Vandy. On her mother they look ridiculous.
I’m well aware of the stupidity slash irony for me to criticise your clothes when mine were a jumbled mess. But I just wanted to let you know my rule of thumb. If your pants show off your c-section scar, choose another pair.