Old-Fashioned Fruitcake
I have been doing a bit of clothes shopping lately, and this has inspired a rant. Or, more accurately, a collection of related mini-rants, which – as I do not have a hotline to garment industrialists worldwide – I present here.
In the first place, there seems to be considerable confusion about the significance of length. If the wearer cannot bend over in a certain garment without flashing passersby, it is a top. Kindly stop charging extra for it under the pretence that it is a dress.
“What, already?!” I hear you ask, a note of panic in your voice. Today marks two months until Christmas, which means that Christmassy stuff is already showing up in advertizing, and it is probably only a matter of time before they start playing Christmas (or should that be Xmas?) music in the shops.
In fact, I have heard that in the Philippines they have been playing Christmas music for at least a month now. But before we rush to judge, let us remember that they are living under a Marcos/Duterte government, and therefore are in need of all the jollity they can muster.
It has to be said, though, that generally speaking, Christmas shopping music is not an evoker of jollity. Particularly for those poor souls working in retail who spend their days hearing the same Xmassy album or two over and over and over again – something which should probably be covered by the Geneva Convention.
Which leads one to wonder: how much of the usual stuff done at this time of the year is actually being enjoyed by those who do it?
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When I see old movies with women in floor-length dressing gowns, or when they’re going to the store and they’ve got a pillbox hat with a net over the eyes and white gloves, I’m offended that I can’t go to the store like that.
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