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March 09, 2006:    What was she thinking? ( A young woman dresses for an outing with friends.)

I had to say it, standing, as I was, behind a young woman of about 21, give or take, "What was she thinking?" I said this to my companion as an honest question, and I was disturbed.

Let me explain:

There she was, the young girl and her young friend, dressed pretty much alike, T's, studded belts, jeans, (low cut,) and hair that was so processed it looked like wheat.

Mind you, I never am really outraged by what I see other's wearing, I have a high threshold for "ugly." I accept those overweight, in fact, I find it much more attractive, even cute, to see extra pounds on any woman. It makes a woman more beautiful, in my own opinion, not to look like an advertisement for feeding the hungry!

But these girls, the one right in front of me on line at the café', was a really frightening thing.

Let me start with the shoes. (Take care of the shoes, the hair and the jacket and the rest will fall into place.) She was wearing high top tennies, you know, we all love them, we coveted them greatly when in highschool and we even wear them far into our thirties, although after 40, it's my opinion that one needs an attitude to pull these babies off! HER tennis shoes were untied, the high tops folded down and the shoestrings very carefully loosened evenly from top to bottom. The look was something like a ducks foot, and the shoes were dirty and not "cute dirty," more like running from the law perfect.

She DID plan this outfit; her friend was right in line with the same look.

Her "sausage jeans" were as expected, tight, wrapped around a lot of baby fat, and holding her butt in, which is what I am told these jeans are supposed to do: make your butt look wonderful. With this young woman, her HIPS were much more prominent than her butt was by far. Her butt had been taken over by her hips. Both of them were about 5'1", not the best height to carry off "sexy butt looks,"

The beat-up studded belt was the requisite "vintage," found in stores that still have our fashion accidents of the '80's. The problem with these vintage items is that many of them are really cheaply made…they were cheap the first time and they look cheaper this round! This belt, as well as the one her twin wore was very bad studded belts that lost their original color many, many years ago. Wrapped tight, as tight as the belt could be tightened, they protected the young girl's back side from making us all very ill by showing something that I cannot begin to imagine, and would no want to try!

On top of all this were T-shirts, also "vintage," meaning bought to look like they were old, but were, in fact, new versions of bad T-shirts. They were tucked into the belts so as to show us all the great studded belts. They both had shirts over the T-shirts that were busting at the buttons to let other's know, and I'm guessing here, their bust size.

Here I am lost in fashion action for youth. When I was their age I had too big of breasts in my "high fashion," obsession and hated that. Because of this, I tried very hard to minimize them and not to attract attention to them. I was somewhat warped by the reputation my too-large breasts had and embarrassed. I had to prove they were real, actually, because they sprouted so fast over the summer that I had to be taken into the girl's room at school and prove they were mine. Indeed, the girl came out and declared my breasts all mine. From then on, they were the interest of every young man and woman around me all of the time. I ran from probable molester's that were old as my father and many times my grandfather. My father put me under surveillance, and I was miserable until I grew into them. Mercifully, my breasts changed as I grew and I sported a more sane size fairly quickly when I had a child. I felt blessed, but I digress.

This girl and her friend were most definitely advertising those breasts of perhaps a "B," size, right along with the jeans meant to give "great butt." I could not look anymore because as I mentioned to my husband who was with me in line to get a coffee, the girls in front of us, he said, "Look at those elbows!"

He was right; those elbows were a gray mess and dirty. It was the end of my fascination.

Just just removing the offending pieces of fabric, or shaving your head can change all fashion accidents, but then there is cleanliness. Elbows, even on cute, "still in baby fat," young girls that are filthy are the be all, end all for some people.

Scrub those elbows people, they are a "deal breaker."