You know how sometimes you see something that's just not
right, like it's completely and totally whacked, but you just cannot look
away? Like a train wreck or a brutal facial
laceration or a kid eating a huge snot off the end of his finger, and no matter how
many times you tell yourself not to look, you just have to, as if you're
possessed or something.
That happened to me last night.
Honest to God, I was shopping at Kohls with a good friend,
so she can verify that this is mostly the truth as it will be forever known, when
I noticed something that just wasn't right. I rounded a corner, pushing the mini-carriage
in front of me as I searched for little kids' t-shirts to complete my friend's
shopping list. We were tag-teaming the
carriage because our coats were in it (not much else), and because we didn't want
anyone to walk off it with the carriage as we had just done when we found it
mostly abandoned behind a clearance display. I spun the carriage around the tile floor and
looked straight ahead to … to … What the frig …
Kids, I understand your youthful fashion statements are
meant to protest your pimple-faced angst, but can we please cut the shit with
you showing your boxers off to the entire world? Do we really need to see your flimsy, hairy
ass cheeks through your flimsy, filthy undies? Just pull your damn pants up and stop sending
out invitations to join the party that you sincerely believe exists in the
backside of your pants.
That is just so nineties.
And more than slightly creepy.
You wanna know who else is creepy? Me, that's who. I am creepy because I stopped the Kohl's
carriage, stared at the mannequin, then immediately grabbed my cell phone, all
the while thinking, "Must have photo. MUST HAVE PHOTO!"
If you're struggling with what to get your nephew/brother/uncle/neighbor/teacher/coworker
this holiday, consider the style rocked by the department store mannequin.
Like the ass it's meant to expose, this look cracked me
up. 