Most of the people who know me know that I have no fashion sense.
I don’t know what matches, what doesn’t match, what looks good together or what doesn’t go together.
Ask any girl I’ve dated. When I ever need to go clothes shopping, I would always drag them along. My excuse, besides, of course, wanting to spend quality time with my significant other, was I would come home with stuff I would never wear.
I would try something on in the store, come out of the dressing room to show the girlfriend and wait for her to either nod in approval or shake her head in disgust. Usually, she would just shake her head as I would parade out wearing what I thought was a hot look.
And, when I would go shopping by myself – insert suspenseful music here – I would take a photo with my cell phone of my latest look and send it – now don’t think I’m weird here - to all the females in my contacts list.
The text conversations would usually go like this:
Me: What do you think of this? Does it go together?
Girl: No, not really.
Me: Any suggestions on what would look good with this sweater?
Girl: Yeah, just stop shopping now and go home.
My awesome fashion sense – yes, I did, at one time, own a pair of “skinny jeans” – recently came to the forefront of my mind.
One day last week, one of the delivery drivers who carts our newspapers around stopped into my office to drop off our bundles of papers for the week. She came up to my desk and plopped a plastic bag down. In it were two shirts, and she was giving them to me in an effort to get rid of them.
I opened the bag, not expecting what I would find. Inside were two shirts, including a blue one and a weird, multicolored combination – I don’t know what else to call it. You’ll see that shirt, along with me striking a pose (watch out, modeling world) in the picture included with this column.
I know what you’re thinking: hot stuff. Yeah, I already know that.
But, don’t worry, I have no intentions of wearing that travesty of a shirt at all. I’m sure, because I said that, I’ll get hate mail from the company who made the shirt. Oh well.
Still, I’m not afraid to admit that I don’t know the latest fashion trends or what goes with what. I don’t watch all the style t.v. shows to see what the celebrities are wearing. I really could care less.
Instead, I’ll be sure to wear whatever I feel like wearing. So, to all the girls in my contacts list on my cell phone, you’ve been warned.
Now, loyal readers, you can’t tell me this shirt isn’t fashionable. Oh, wait. It is.