It’s Fleet Week in New York, and I’ve noticed that anyone wearing a sailor suit, the kind with the wide collar and the bellbottoms, looks like they’re in a musical.
I saw An American in Paris last night, which was terrific, and all of the dancers are in such amazing shape that even their bulky hidden mic packs can’t make them look fat.
Whenever I hear tourists speaking another language, I immediately re-evaluate their outfits. Especially if they’re speaking French or Italian – I expect more.
When children get all dressed up, they look frumpy.
My new favorite phrase, from a fashion blog, involves a man wearing “a statement blazer.”
On the home shopping channels, when the hosts are hawking, say, a poylester cardigan, they’ll say things like, “This is perfect for just running around town, or brunch at the country club.”
In Times Square I saw a man wearing a bright red velvet graduation gown and a mortar board, posing for a photo with his arms around two women. I couldn’t tell if he’d just graduated from a somewhat flamboyant school, or if there’s a superhero I’ve never heard of who dresses that way. What’s his super power – the ability to snare an entry level job and start paying off his student loans?
