Well life as we know it has ceased. The apocalypse is surely upon us. My uncle Ben’s trick knee has been throbbing like a son-of-a-gun, and if that doesn’t mean the end of the world, I don’t know what does. Sure, the kids are home from school and the NBA has suspended all games, but you know things are serious when Giorgio Armani cancels fashion week! Yes folks, I saw it in the news. So, we all just may as well just dig a hole right now, get in, and wait. It’s all over. NOT!!
You might be wondering where this all came from, and that would be very astute of you. If I were next to you, I would pat you on the back and say, “Good Job” But alas it is not meant to be. I am here, you are there, and even if I were there my arms are not six feet long. So, no back pat for you, but the thought was there. Now, where was I?
Oh yes, fashion week cancelled, and I need to tell you about my little sister. She sews as a hobby. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially when you’re inside quarantined. The thing is, she’s a little weird about it. We were talking the other day and she was very upset. I did what I’m supposed to do and asked her, “What’s wrong?” Admittedly, I really didn’t care, but she’s my sister and all that, Blah blah blah. Well she actually started crying and informed me of this horrific news.
I was taken aback. Everyone I know wears jeans and T-shirts, and fashion, in general, eludes me. I saw a Milan fashion show once and did not even come close to understanding it. It was nothing more than a parade of emaciated women wearing weird clothes. My only thought was I wanted to get those girls to a buffet to get some meat on their bones. I mentioned this to the girl I was dating at the time and she got angry and told me they can’t all be the Victoria’s Secret show.
Let me take a side trip here and explain the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. Imagine if you will a parade of extra-large chested women wearing underwear. I’m sure this would have been exciting when I was in puberty. But now? Not so much now. Then add to it an announcer introducing each girl. “Here’s Natalia, wearing a bra and panties, Lovely”. Applause. “Next, we see Janine, wearing a lovely bra and panty set. Sweet.” Applause. “Now the exotic Yvonne showing off the skimpy bra and panties. Oooo, Yvonne” Applause… And so on for two and a half hours. Just to break up the monotony I would love to hear the lady say, “And now we have Ralph wearing a sensual bra and panty ensemble… Wait a minute. Security get that weird guy off the stage.” At least this would have added something different to break it up.
Another thing is, none of the models in a fashion show will ever be named Mary or Anne. It’s like a conspiracy. Normally named people need not apply. I can just imagine the agent’s office; “Yes Miss Mansfield, you’ve got a great figure, wonderful legs and your head-shots are beautiful, but I’m sorry we can’t represent you because your name is Jane. If you consider changing it to Cleopatra, then we’ll talk.”
Well, you know how it is. My sister kept talking and my mind started wandering. I looked around the room at my family and kept hearing the word fashion in my mind. That’s when it happened. I didn’t want it to happen but it did, and since it happened to me, I’m going to share it with you. You’re going to have to use your imagination for this. Picture in your mind a theatre full of the elite people. There is a runway jutting forward from the stage into the ravenous crowd. Cameras start flashing everywhere as a man in a tuxedo walks up to the mike and announces, “Ladies, and Gentlemen Benvenuto, if you’re in Milan, Bienvenu, if you’re in Paris, Welcome, if you’re in New York, or Hey Dude, if you’re in Las Angeles. This is the 2020 Corona Quarantine Fashion Show sponsored by Mr. Ohh!” The crowd erupts into thunderous applause.
The man waits for the audience to quiet and continues, “Thank you all for coming. So, let’s get this started with your hosts the ravishing Gloriana McTavish, and lifestyle guru Alfred Quark.” More applause as the two come through the curtain. Gloriana is wearing a lime sequined, off the shoulder gown, and Alfred has on a black and white striped jacket and neon orange pants which match three spikes in his hair perfectly. The fourth spike matches Gloriana’s dress. After five minutes of banter of them saying how excited they are to be here they move to the side of the stage and start the show.
Alfred says, “Well darlings we have been quarantined for a month now but no worries we still can be on the cutting edge.”
“Of course, Alfred. Why take a look at our first model. This is Barbara. She is our work at home girl. Notice her blouse and blazer clash perfectly with the running shorts she decided to throw on.
“And Glory, look how her hair is perfect but she hasn’t shaved her legs in at least a week. Perfect for the work-at-home, video-conference look. You keep rocking it Barb. And remember to keep that wineglass away from the camera.”
“The fuzzy slippers make it stand out as well.” The crowd cheers as Barbara struts the catwalk and turns to leave. Gloriana continues. “Now we have Miriam. Miriam takes the saying All dressed up with no place to go to a new level. She’s looking great in flannel. Flannel pants, flannel shirt, just good old soft flannel.”
“Oh, Glory I love this look. It just screams maximum comfort and minimum movement. And this look is fearless. She owns the bedroom; she doesn’t need a man to make her happy.”
“Alfred, you didn’t mention the hair. That hairdo just screams, ‘I haven’t been brushed in a month and I don’t care’.”
“True, oh so true. Also look at those lines. Totally unhampered by restrictive undergarments. She’s not going out so why put on a nasty old bra.”
Miriam does her turn and struts back down the runway with cameras flashing. “Next up is the lovely Veronica. This is a look that has really gained popularity in recent months. A tie-dye t-shirt and fleece pants both several sizes too small.”
“Goodness if there was ever a quarantine look this is it, and Veronica sets it off so well. Lets, start with the duckies on those pants. Those haven’t been out of the drawer since she was ten, and that shirt, so retro, she really scraped the bottom of the dresser drawer for those. I’d say someone’s not doing laundry and loving it. You go girl!”
“And look at those stains. Do I detect a distinct lack of showering? For this girl and many others, Quarantine means no clean and that’s her scene.”
About that time, I remembered my sister. So, I made some staticy noises in my throat, complained I couldn’t hear her, and hung up. That ended that.
Well, what would you do?
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